What Goes Up Must Come Down

It’s been 12 days since I’ve binged and the difference – how I look (or how I think I look) and how I feel – is marked.

I feel more in control. I feel thinner. I am thinner (weight two days ago: 11 stone 11, or 165.) It’s 9 pounds above my lowest weight ever, which sounds like a manageable amount to lose. It’s certainly a lot more manageable than the 19 I was thinking about when I saw that 12 stone 7 a week and a half ago. (19! That’s nearly 20! I was thinking).

It hasn’t been an easy time to get a handle on my food. Besides the attempted breakup and its fallout, there’s been a slew of long work-related restaurant lunches -- a challenge even when I’m feeling at my strongest. Oh – and a cold and its fallout, which has meant very little exercise.

Oh -- and I’m off on Monday to a remote chateau in the Loire Valley.

“It’ll be stress-free,” says a friend gleefully. Well, not exactly, when you consider that most people go to France for the food. My goal is to get some exercise (apparently there’s a running trail) and not to binge. Wish me luck.

In the meantime, I’m off this afternoon to see a nutritionist. Yes, a nutritionist. I realized recently that although I feel like this is a subject about which I know a lot – and which friends come to me for advice – I’m at a loss when it comes to applying my knowledge to myself. My body has changed a lot in recent years – what should I be putting in it, and (the million dollar question) how much?