A very crappy meeting today had me stressed out and ready to eat my way calm when I walked through the door tonight. I paced while whining to Megan and swallowing a nectarine whole like a snake, pit intact. As the small lump slowly slid visibly though my throat, I refused to give in and instead threw on running stuff and headed to the new, spongy crimson track at Fitchburg State College.

About ten trodden steps into only my second quarter mile, I pulled the calf muscle in my right leg. The sad fact is my calves can’t take the pounding at my current weight. Whatever. I proceeded to walk 11 more laps at a strong pace, went home and ate a small meal. I won this battle, but there will be many more. I also cared much less about the whole work thing.

It’s not heroin, booze or crack, but food consumption can me a mother… to control, but if I’m going to have a healthy “back nine” to a century, I’ve got to. There are already benefits. A pain in my side has disappeared, clothes are getting looser, and I can almost see my… OK, I’m kidding about that. I’ve always been able to see my feet. Oh, and the nectarine… I took some bites.