Small Slice

I cannot explain exactly what the heck is going on with my body.  I'm on day four of fruit.  Fruit fruit fruit fruit fruit. 

And aside from my utter loathing of papaya, which has not lessened despite my repeated consumption of it over the last three days, I'm onto an all-watermelon day, and I'm feeling rather zippy.

I assumed that by day four, I would be ready to put my fist through a plate-glass window, that is, if I was able to even lift a fist.  Instead, I'm rocketing around the house, feeling clear-headed and balanced.  How weird is that? 

Since my body is apparently enjoying all the vitamins, fiber and extra hydration, I'm going to get in a five-mile fast walk while the older kids are in school.  My preschooler isn't feeling at the top of her game, so she should sit quietly in her stroller while I haul my buns around the neighborhood. 

The best part of this exercise in learning to embrace my nemesis, the frigging papaya, is that I'm relearning an important lesson. 

Just because there is food available doesn't mean you need to eat it.

and also:

Food isn't entertainment.  It isn't a substitute for being productive, or being restful, or being happy.  It is fuel.  Pleasurable fuel, to be enjoyed...but only to meet the body's requirements, not to singlehandedly assure that cheesecake manufacturers don't go out of business.

I feel empowered.  I feel like I am finally relearning to recognize my body's hunger signals, and my full signals as well.  I'm staying on top of myself, and it feels good to recognize that I DO have control.  I CAN choose to eat less.  I CAN feel my body ridding itself of some of the toxins that have been collecting since the last round of halloween candy madness.

And when this whole fruit insanity is over with, I can return to a diet rich with healthy foods in moderation, and continue listening to what my body needs, instead of what my eyeballs want.