I have sinned.
This afternoon, under a crisp midday sun, tempted, I took the elevator down to Stuart Street, walked into Starbucks, and ordered an iced black-eye. And drank it. Not my first Starbucks, but my official first workday-purchased coffee since April 11. Since I had vowed not to purchase coffee during the workdays until next April 11.
This evening -- albeit after a day that included a walk, weights class, running and about 12 miles on the bike -- I ate enough baked fish, curry and naan bread (plus most of a bag of BBQ-style potato chips, french vanilla ice cream, fresh blueberries and strawberries and pineapple and mangoes, after drinking several pints of Berkshire Steel Rail Extra Pale Ale) to fulfill the daily nutritional needs of several grown adults. Despite tomorrow being the weekly Bikini weigh-in and only 2 weeks to D-Day.
I try to make myself feel better by hoping that no one cares about either of these sins except me. That I'm only writing about them because, at arbitrary points in the last 2 months, I was overwhelmed by self-improvement urges. Which aren't bad in and of themselves .... and I've been about 95% faithful to both.
But for which I'm obviously feeling enough guilt tonight that I have to confess. To you. Who do not (and need not) care.
Well. Some days -- like picture-perfect Tuesdays, at the end of which folks offer to construct masterful skillets full of Indian hotdish and offer their home and company, for which I needed a mini-caffeine boost to stay awake for enough to survive the bike ride home through an ensuing food coma ....
(Got all that logic?)
Damn. I've just got to admit that it was worth ditching the diet(s) today. Totally.