Thirty Days

Thirty days. Actually, 31.

I can't remember (and nor, shame on me, does my blog actually document) the last time I hit that amount of binge-free days. I think it must have been in March, because I had a long stretch abroad.

It hasn't been easy, and – unlike, say, the 100 pushups challenge – it's not over when I hit the goal. (OK, ok – I never actually finished that one. But you get the idea). I just have to keep going. Actually, the goal of trying not to binge is an awful lot like maintaining weight loss -- the rewards aren't tangible, and they aren't visible to anyone but me. Nor will I ever meet the goal and cross it off the list for good – it will be there every single day.

Worrying about my food has caused me plenty of problems this month, but I've also had a good amount of success. I've managed to be more flexible than I have been in a while, and I feel like I'm edging – slowly, slowly -- toward a detente with food, as opposed to war. Yesterday I tried a bite of a friend's fish and chips and another of cauliflower cheese.

That may not sound like much of a victory to you, but one of the iron-clad rules I got from binge-eating treatment was to eat one plate of food, and not to sample anyone else's. I like rules. I can follow rules. I'd be delighted if someone told me exactly what to eat every day – that's part of why I find some spas the best vacation ever. (Yes, the massages are fantastic, but the total vacation from food and worrying about it is what makes it bliss for me. ) But although I like rules, too many of them – too many ways to strain to be perfect (because, like many people who binge eat, I am a perfectionist) and to fail – is also a binge trigger. So I'm trying to teach myself that a bit of rule-breaking is good for the soul. It doesn't mean I'm going to binge every day. It doesn't mean I'm going to put on 93 pounds. In this case, it just means I get a taste of something delicious I wouldn't have otherwise.

(For the record, I nearly ordered the fish & chips myself. I didn't say no because of calories – I said no because I genuinely didn't think my stomach was up to handling that amount of fried stuff, and because the chips I saw being served to other diners looked lacklustre. Plus, I really wanted a burger.)

Just after we'd ordered we realized we hadn't put enough money in the parking meter, and my friend who was driving has the world's worst parking karma. One minute over and no doubt we'd get a £60 fine. So I volunteered to walk the four blocks to the car and top up.

I walked down the street, automatically scanning for food shops that were still open. I could binge, I thought gleefully. That lasted about a second. Then I thought: But I don't have to, and for tonight, I don't want to.