Spring break not end of diet hiatus

Not again. Another weight loss column? Here, I can save you some time: it hasn't gone well.

My intent was to jump right back on the horse after blasting my diet to pieces over spring break, but apparently my stomach had other plans. Over the last two weeks, every time lunch came around, my head was saying, "Okay, time for a salad" and my stomach heard that as "Pizza? We're getting pizza, right?"

My eating habits and personal willpower have completely evaporated and the reasons why are the same reasons I've failed dieting before. I won't bore you with a long sob story, but demands from school, work and home have piled up, and when I've found myself with an hour of time to myself, I've turned to fast food and terrible-for-me sandwiches as a release, a kind of relaxation through burgers and fries.

In some ways, I've viewed eating as one of the few things I can control when my life is spinning out of control. I would look at the milkshake I would drink in the afternoon as the only thing that would get me through the day; the only time I had just for me.

The realization I've made in the past (and quite obviously need to take to heart again) is that while the idea of looking forward to meals and rewarding myself for a hard day's work is not in itself a terrible idea, the thing that makes it enjoyable is the break itself, not cramming chicken sandwiches down my throat at the same time.

Yes, there's a perverse kind of satisfaction in chowing down on food you know you're not supposed to eat. I'd imagine it's the same kind of thrill you might get from taking some kind of drug or shoplifting: you feel like you're getting away with something you're not supposed to. The problem with this is, with food, you carry your sins with you afterward, and the damage you do to yourself quite literally weighs you down.

However, as long as I'm still breathing, it's not too late to change. Perhaps I needed to bottom out like this (and I have noticed more padding when I sit down) to shock me into taking this more seriously. Perhaps I needed the bitter sting of failure one more time to realize how important it is to me to succeed. Because, despite how badly this has gone, I am still here, still willing to put up a fight, still daring myself to make this work. Though the horse has proven much more difficult to jump back on (as anyone who has seen YouTube videos of fat people on horses can attest to), I will ride it and I will beat it, not for this column, but just for me.