Fast food hangovers and why I can't feel like that again

Yea verily, I have sinned.

On Wednesday, I took the day off from the gym, as I do every week. I caved in and ate a cheeseburger on lunch break; it just sounded so good! I counted my little calories, scolded myself, and promised to do better.

I should know better than to trust that voice. Sometimes, it's just a little too conciliatory.

Thursday, this week masquerading as Thanksgiving, was another work day for me. I like to volunteer for holidays, since my family does our celebrating on the weekend following. Nevertheless, I was in holiday mode, and I made my first bad choice of the day when I elected to buy a Mountain Dew from the vending machine. I knew better. I really did. But I promised to do better, later.

On the way home at the end of the day, I thought I might grab a few groceries and made the move to turn into the local big box on my way home. The parking lot was packed, in anticipation of the Black Friday sales. I aborted the mission and instead, sighing, turned into McDonald's to get some dinner. I was hungry, it was fast, and besides, they have salads.

And then I ordered a cheeseburger.

I'm not sure what I was thinking and I can only assume that I simply wasn't thinking. The gym had closed mid-day, due to the holiday, and I knew the deck was already stacked against me. So what did I do? Gave myself a 650-calorie pile of grease on a bun. Good choice.

When the feeling of sickness came on, I thought maybe I was just cranky. It had been a long day - long week, actually - and I felt very disordered. I was out-of-sorts from not having the chance to go to the gym. But the feeling got worse.

It wasn't a stomach ache, exactly. More of a fuzzy, nauseous feeling. I felt flushed, a little dizzy, a bit like my mind just wasn't processing things normally. Five hours after that cheeseburger, it was still sitting like a rock in my stomach, and I felt like I'd been hit by a bus. It was the most miserable feeling of recent memory.

My trainer had mentioned the "fast food hangover" to me, as something he feels if he tries to get away with eating garbage foods, and I chuckled at the terminology. I figured he was exaggerating.

No, he wasn't.

Half a gallon of Powerade and nearly half a gallon of water later, I was feeling closer to human. But that vaguely-wrong "hangover" feeling stuck with me all day today. By mid-afternoon, I was desperate for the gym. Desperate.

Now at home, gymmed and fed with food that wasn't a cheeseburger, I can reflect on what happened. Two days in a row without the gym and with garbage for food. I made bad choices, yes. Do I forgive myself? Of course.

But was it okay? Not really. I knew better, and I know from previous experience that when I become to permissive about my own bad behavior, it gets worse. See: this whole entry.

What I'm saying is that I am a petulant child. It's true.

So I fell off the wagon this week. It's going to happen plenty of times in this journey. But today was a new day, tomorrow is another new one, and every day I have a new chance to do things right.

And I will.