Knock on wood, the pup will be okay; and an epiphany!

Schmart Dog was 500% better when I got home from work last night.  She was able to get up on her own, she wanted to walk around outside when I took her out, she had a good appetite, and then -- this was when my heart sang -- she went to her toy box, pulled out a toy and demanded I play with her.  She was even better this morning.  Whew.  I know the day will still come, sooner rather than later, that I will have to make the hard choice for her but it won't be today. 

In typical CBS style, ironically it wasn't Schmart Dog who was the reason for the pee I smelled when I got home last night.  No, that would be from CBS who let loose in her crate (meaning she forgot to do her business the second time I let her out that morning) and was soaked, simply SOAKED, chest to tail in dog pee.  So after reasurring myself that Schmart Dog was doing better, CBS got tossed into the tub for clean up (a wet washcloth wasn't going to cut it, I nearly yakked trying to clean her off with that).  Now she smells like oatmeal and I am again the daily and nightly pee warden. 

Now, on to excuses and rationalizations.  A huge, huge, HUGE weight came off my shoulders last night and a bit more came off this morning when I realized my dog was getting better.  I went to bed last night weak with relief, and also with a sore left ankle (that's new) and a tight right hip flexor from yesterday's run.  I woke up at gym time but after finding out that (A) the dog was still doing good and (B) my right bum cheek was like a rock (and not in the good way) I decided to skip the gym and get more sleep.  I will be spending some quality time with the foam roller tonight.  And hmm, that sounded just as dirty in my head.

I think the aches were from the slant of the indoor track at the corners.  Must be why they switch off clockwise and counterclockwise directions, depending on the day.  I could see where going the opposite direction would feel pretty good right about now.  Tomorrow is supposed to be my rest day, but the plan is to roll out my ass tonight and then hit the gym tomorrow instead.  I've already made an appointment for after work to do the paperwork for membership.  I am hoping I can schedule one of my complimentary personal trainer visits soon to get a training plan back together.  I hope to work on that on my end today.  I have to put in some work hours on Saturday, but I also hope to have some up close and personal time with the gym's steam room before I have to come in.

So, I had an epiphany of sorts last night as I was preparing to head home from the office.  As you recall, I made this scrumptiously delicious sweet potato and butternut gratin on Tuesday.  My stomach is growing now, just thinking about it.  I was looking forward to having some for dinner all day yesterday.  I had taken out some nice, big sea scallops (which I LOVE) to defrost and I was going to have those as well.  I figured it would take me 15 minutes, max, to get dinner together and most of that would involve sauteeing/poaching the scallops.

Yet about 30 minutes before I left, I thought about stopping at Subway on the way home and picking up dinner.  I really, really wanted to do that.  Immediately after that thought, I asked myself why?  Why did I want to stop and spend money I don't really have to spare on an ordinary, albeit healthy and tasty, dinner when I basically had one waiting at home for me?  I realized the answer was:  Because it wasn't going to be waiting at home for me.  Even though preparing it would be quick and easy, and the dinner would be delicious and healthy, I was the one who had to do it.  No one else.  Just like every other single night.  And day.  And in between.

See, I realized that what I really wanted was someone else to do it.  In other words, I wanted someone else to take care of me.  I wanted to come home and have dinner ready to eat, and by the way whoever had dinner waiting had also done the laundry, fed the dogs, taken them out, vacuumed, made my lunch for me for tomorrow and ran me a hot bath.  Except until age eight and for an eight month period or so back in -- sheesh, what year was that? -- hmm, late 2005, I haven't had anybody who even remotely would do that.  Age eight, people.  Growing up, if I didn't feed me then I wouldn't be getting any dinner until past eight o'clock in the evening after my parents got home and made it.  Oh, and usually made stuff that I didn't like and/or that would make me ill if I did eat it (me and onions do not get along). 

Isn't that amazing?  It's not really the food itself I want, or even the good feelings that come from the taste of food you're craving.  I just want someone else to do it.  Feed me a salad, it doesn't make a difference, as long as I didn't have to make it. 

Now I'm going to ask myself, what do I want more?  Do I want to spend time and money, and more often than not make a poor nutritional choice, to get food simply because I didn't have to make it, or do I want to be healthy and fit and lose weight?  Oh, and not have that horrible feeling later of being overstuffed  -- at Arby's?  I will order two sandwiches and two sides and often a shake to eat by myself in one sitting -- and then sleeping badly because my acid reflux is raging.  This is what has been going through my head in the past, and I can't believe it took me nearly 40 years to realize that.  I usually understand why I do most things (whether I give a crap is another story, but I do understand), but this has completely escaped me.   Some days it may be a challenge to answer with that I want to be healthy and fit and lose weight, but at least I will understand why I've made the choices I have in the past and can work towards making better ones in the future.

Wow.  Yay me!

Cheers (and I'm ready for lunch now -- which I got up early this morning to make since I blew that off last night),
the CilleyGirl