I’m sitting here waiting for my breakfast to digest before I hit the pavement again today. I hate running and regurgitating food at the same time, but I also can’t handle running on an empty stomach. I know some people can get right out of bed and into their sneakers, but I’m not one of those guys. Too many moments of dry-heaves after mile three or four have reminded me of this fact.

It wasn’t long ago, though, that I would have just skipped breakfast. I would have maybe slogged my way to get coffee, but that would be all I’d have until later in the day. Then, when my body did finally register that it was STARVING from not having any food in it for umpteen hours, I’d reach for whatever was most handy, most convenient, and usually that ended up being the worst for me. Sugar, fat, and any combination of those two things, were pretty much all I knew. Vegetables and fruit were not my enemies, but the texture of having them in my mouth was a rarity.

All that has changed. Now, I try to eat a solid breakfast every day. I have looked into doing the “paleo-diet” and have tried that to some degree of success. It’s not easy, though, and for now, it just doesn’t suit me. Maybe I’m just not happy about cutting out some things I enjoy. Maybe I’m just not tough enough. Or, rather, maybe I’m just busy listening to what my body actually wants, and reacting accordingly.

Today was eggs, kale, a bit of shredded cheddar, and some grape tomatoes. Coffee on the side. In a bit, I’ll feel that familiar course of energy in my body, and in response, I’ll tie my house key to my shoelaces, and out the door I’ll go. This has now become a regular thing for me.

And I prefer it this way.

I was talking to Caleb about this not long ago, and his comment was that I could do all of this because I wasn’t at work. It’s the truth – I have been out of work since March – and he’s right. I’m not tied to choices presented to me at a food court in a mall, or something quick and easy to throw into my gullet because I’m strapped for time. Still, when I do finally land a gig, I have a taste for better food. I have the knowledge to plan my meals accordingly. I can make the healthy choices I need to because, finally, I’m treating my body with the respect it deserves.


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