"I'm not hungry."

Well, I did get to use the "I'm not hungry" line, although it was only to myself.

I was heading to work after my previously post-poned doctor's appointment, which ended up going okay. Although I had lost and regained weight between the yearly appointments, it actually appeared that I had stayed the same. My doctor must think I'm completely pitiful when it comes to controlling my eating and losing weight and exercising. As I was talking about my seemingly life-long struggle with food, I felt my voice crack and hoped that he didn't notice.

Some advice he offered (keep in mind that my doctor is young and very fit) that he stated works for him is planning on running in a particular marathon, which forces him to train. A marathon? Me? Is he nuts?

I've noticed that when I plan a goal for some future time, like wanting to fit in a bridesmaid dress by my friend's wedding date (I ended up having to have the dress let out), or wearing a certain size jeans by June 1 (which was a goal I made this past January), or whatever, I hardly EVER achieve the goal. I don't know what it is, I just end up sabotaging myself or rationalizing that "I have time, I can eat this." and I fail almost every time. What is that about? I can always visualize myself meeting the goal ... maybe part of the problem is that I put too many expectations on losing weight. Like, not only will I simply fit into my jeans or the bridesmaid dress, but I'll be successful and rich and surrounded by friends and admirers, have that beautiful kitchen I've always wanted ... so on.

Anyway, totally off the "I'm not hungry" subject.

I'm driving to work after the "not as humiliating as I thought it would be" appointment and I see a McDonald's in the distance.

"Mmm, I think I'll stop and get a double cheeseburger and small fries," I think to myself.

The gluttony, super-fat, rationalizing part of my brain says, "No ... get a Quarter Pounder with cheese meal. Yum!"

After considering it briefly ... "No," I reply. "Money's tight until payday. I'd rather spend $2 than $6."

"Okay ... a double cheeseburger and fries will still be good."

Suddenly, I realize ... I'M NOT HUNGRY.

"On second thought," I say, "I'm not even hungry."

"So?" Glutton brain says. "That's hardly ever stopped you before. It'll be tasty ..." it taunts.

"Yeah, it will be tasty," I acknowledge. Then I come to my senses. "But I'm really not hungry."

Glutton-brain panics. "Yeah. Well ..." Thinking fast, it rationalizes, "But you'll be hungry later and you won't be able to go out then. Might as well eat now to head it off later."

"Isn't that a little dumb to eat NOW because I might be hungry LATER?" I say. "Besides, I've been trying to prove to myself for days that hunger won't kill me. If I get hungry later, I'll be fine."

Glutton-brain notices that the McD's is coming up quickly. "But, but ... McD fries are SO good!", it whines, and attempts to send signals to my hands and arms to put the turn signal on and get into the center turning lane. My hands twitch on the steering wheel, but I'm able to thwart the signal and get into the far right lane as we zoom by the restaurant.

"#*&@#!" Glutton-brain mumbles.

I was pretty proud of myself for really listening to my body. And I was fine throughout the afternoon.