And it really has. This whole exercise thing I mean. Yesterday, I (and I'm not sure if the guy was joking or not) was mistaken for an anorexic. As in the eating disorder. Me. This was a day after I consumed my second several thousand calorie meal in a week. Me.
I guess I could quit doing this running thing. (Not happening, I, for some reason, love it.) Or I could break my years old practice, and have a glass of pop with dinner and ice cream afterwards. Oh boy, I feel positively decadent.
(Is is odd the way that someone insinuated that I have an eating disorder, and that gives me a happy feeling. I think that it's okay, at least I realize that it's a little odd, and a little unhealthy, but I don't really care. Thin!)
I really just love the way that I feel healthy now. For the first time I feel healthy and happy. And that doesn't really matter about your weight, it's more of a state of mind. And I'm in it! Sweet! Like this morning, I was running, in the rain, huffing and puffing, thinking I was going to die, but I was blissed while doing it. Don't think about that to much, it could cause an aneurysm.