Chocolate Indiscretion

I don't know why I ate the chocolate cake.

I wasn't hungry. I didn't want it.

But it kept calling my name like a long lost lover who reaches out to you across the internet - someone you haven't seen in a while, but their memory is all too familiar. You know the ones, the toxic ones. The ones you've distanced yourself from because they're not good for you. Oh, they're not necessarily toxic within themselves. They're just not for YOU.

"Shea," it whispered. "Shea, I'm here."

"I know you're there, and I don't want you. I don't need you. I don't even like you anymore. Go away."

"But it's been so long. Come on. Remember the good times. Remember how good I am... so creamy. So rich."

To be honest, it hadn't been a long time. I'd had chocolate the day before... okay, okay, I admit it, and the day before that as well.

"Shea, honey, come on." I loved the way it said my name. I felt a strange drawing. An uncomfortable attraction.

I was tired. I was thirsty. I'd watched a sad moie, and read a sad story for my World Lit class later this week. I'd foolishly changed my phone number (It was a deal! I saved ten bucks when I got my new phone, but no one had my new number and I hadn't talked to my closest friends in a few days.) I was prime for an illicit relationship with unhealthy food.

I confess... I ate it. Forget the fact that I had to go to my neighbor's house to get it. We'd stored it in her freezer... uh, so I wouldn't eat it. Forget the fact that I had to put on my clothes after already being in my pajamas to go next door and that I ate it half frozen.

When old lover's call our minds make excuses to get what we want. The moment reigns supreme. High callings, commitments, goals and dreams become fuzzy and sometimes disappear all together... for a few moments.

It was smooth and creamy. And I didn't eat only one piece, I ate two. Creamy icing glided over my lips. This was comfort? It was moist and soft.

But really, how much chocolate cake can you enjoy when there is a motivation sticker calendar on your fridge - Big stars mark my gym days and small stars mark my walking days. I'm proud of my work-out calendar. I love the satisfaction of putting up my star for the day. Sometimes, if I cannot make it to the gym in the morning, I will put the big star up before I go to work. When I get home, there it is, and tired or not, I heft this big bottom over to the elliptical and do my thing. No taking down stickers! It's kind of like the picture of the family in the wallet or on the desk - helps keep me honest. Reminds me of the hard work put in and good times still to come.

Sunday is my "free day", my funday. I can eat what I want... within bounds. I find that by not denying myself, I don't crave what I "cannot" have. I can have what I want - but that doesn't mean it's good for me, or best for me. Whatever I choose, I will have to deal with the consequences.

Some consequences just aren't worth it.

The cake? An indescretion I regret. It's why I couldn't sleep at four this morning. It's why I awoke asking for forgiveness - from God, from my body. It's one more memory of "it's just not worth it."

It's one more reason to get back on track.

The gym is on holiday hours today. The big star is already on the calendar. Some would say it's my penance. I prefer to see it as mistake made, forgiveness granted, new day begun.

Oh, and the cake? What's left (at my neighbor's house, in the freezer so I won't eat it?) is going in the trash can. Sometimes we must deal radically with the temptation instead of expecting to be strong. I have no doubt... no doubt, it will call to me again tonight if I do not silence it while I have my wits about me.

Happy Labor day MFP co-laborers.