So, here’s the deal.
I don’t celebrate Lent, mostly because I don’t belong to a faith group that celebrates it. I think those who make a big deal about giving up chocolate for Jesus are ridiculous and need to move to Uganda for a few years to see what it’s like to actually have issue and need G-d. I also think these people need to read scripture a bit more closely and read the parts where Jesus tells his followers not to let everyone know when you’re fasting. That would be way more productive than giving up McDonalds for 40 days.
I think I mentioned in my last post that I was going to be trying to post every day for the next 40 days. I’m only using the 40 days of Lent because, well, I know when it’s over. (Easter, right? Or is it Good Friday? I’m the worst lapsed Catholic ever.) I’m not doing anything out of the ordinary for Lent.
I am, for my 40 days (which I think I’m going to call “Sierra’s Month+10 of Awesome) attempting to eat healthier and workout more so that I can feel better. I’m sick of feeling sick all the time.
I’ve already gone a week and a few days without fast food, which has been pretty good for me.
My friend Meredith (whom I miss so badly that I cry myself to sleep at night) wrote up a neat little manifesto about how food is fuel and should be seen as such. She uses this little analogy (and I hope she doesn’t mind me using it here. I’m citing my sources!)
You’re late for class. 7:48AM already? You spend five more minutes curling your hair, then you sprint out the door toward your car. But you suddenly remember: the gas tank is on E. As in completely and totally empty. Mild profanity ensues. You don’t have time to stop for gas. There is some big important test, or a guy waiting to say good morning before some big important test.
So you fill your car’s tank up with hairspray instead. Oh, and the last of your red nail polish. That should be enough to get you there, right? You start the car. It coughs and sputters, moving only a few feet. Then it explodes and you die in the flames.
This is a ridiculous scenario, but it points to a very real truth. We very often fill our bodies with toxins, and then expect to make it through the day without crashing. We forego proper upkeep, but somehow expect to function. You can’t do that with a car; similarly, you can’t do that with the human body (for very long, anyway).
This is a perfect way of looking at it.
My plan at this point is to eat six smaller meals instead of three-ish big meals. The whole eating whatever breakfast I can put together, starving until lunch, eating whatever small lunch I end up bringing, starving until dinner, and omgstuffingmyself at dinner is getting old and I feel like shit.
I need to find my 30 Day Shred dvd. Jillian is a bitch and I hate her and I hate how much I hate her when I’m doing the workout, but I love how I feel afterward.
In other news, one of my friends is forcing me to read Captivating. I’ve only read the introduction and I already feel that this is going to kick the feminist movement back to the 50s. All women need a man, everyone. EVERY WOMAN this woman has met has issues with self esteem.
Fuck that. I’m still the queen of this rodeo.
Okay. End scene. I’m going to go figure out my food for the next few days and maybe even find my 30DS.