In which it's a Happy Birthday to me

Tomorrow is my birthday, and as you can see I've already filled out my Journal in advance.

Yes, it's Eat Whatever I Want Day. No tracking, no Points, no rules.

Sept. 17 is the one day all year when I allow myself to eat whatever I want. I didn't do this last year as I was at the very beginning of the weight-loss process and the thought of eat-whatever-you-want was not enticing because I had been doing that for about 6 years straight.

But this year I figured one day of Everything-Is-0-Points is a reasonable indulgence. As long as I keep it to one day.

The temptation to stretch it out into some All-You-Can-Eat Hanukah has been stronger than I expected. My husband was away all week on business, leaving me a tad more stressed and tired than normal. I thought about indulging in a treat here or there in anticipation of the big deal, but I resisted.

Then today I was grocery shopping and not feeling awesome due to my recent "injury."

As I'm navigating the aisles I see all sorts of delicious crap, and then I hear it:

You know, if you're going to eat whatever you want tomorrow, why not just start today?


Ah, tricky evil voice, you're never really far away, are you? Defenses down, it pops up. And I thought about it. I really, really did.

And then I went straight to checkout and got the hell out of the store.

I know where this thinking leads. Two days turns into the whole weekend, which can then extend in the next week, month, etc. And then I'm really not feeling good about myself and the ensuing weight gain. Downward spiral for one, please.

For a person with food issues, is it wise to celebrate my birthday by eating whatever I want - and let's be honest, overeating? Probably not. But I will do it, anyway. And most likely I will feel like complete and utter shit on Sunday. But, you play, you pay.

Anyway, back to the birthday. Tomorrow I turn 41 and I am exceedingly grateful. I enter this year in the best shape of my life, super happy, super healthy, super kick-ass. And, you know, super humble as always.

I was never a milestone birthday person, other than 16.5 (driver's license) and 21. Every other one was just another day to eat cake. Even turning 40 last year was not a reason to freak out.

I am a firm believer that it's absolutely stupid to get freaked out and depressed about birthdays. If you stop having birthdays, then, yeah, freak out because you're dead. Otherwise, what is your problem?

Turning 40 had nothing to do with my decision to lose weight. I could have been turning 41, 46 or even, 50. The impetus was:

Do not waste another day, another month, another birthday. Get this done now.

So I did.

Here's to another great year.