Food yesterday went excellently well. It’s nice to see that I can actually apply willpower to this and have it work out. There were times, and I know this sounds crazy, that I actually whispered to myself. Free sandwiches in the break room following a catered lunch for a guest speaker. I saw them. I whispered “February Sprint” and moved on. Got home from work, opened the fridge to get dinner out, saw a perfect snack-size portion of nuts in a little Tupperware. Whispered “February Sprint” and moved on. Sat with my wife later in the evening while she snacked on apples and peanut butter. Whispered “February Sprint” and went upstairs.
Hey, man, whatever works.
I feel good today. On the right track good. Probably there’s some medical thing where I’m on some sort of goofy high because I’m burning ketones or something. But it’s nice to feel this way.
I’m reconciled to the fact that I’m going to feel hungry and uncomfortable a lot in the coming weeks. That’s the idea of the “sprint,” right? 22 days left to go. I can do 22 days of mild hunger. It’s not real hunger. It’s “hungry” like white guys in business school spend a month living on $1 a day and say “you can do it too!” It doesn’t count if you can opt out at any time.
So I’m not really hungry. I’m inconvenienced. There are lots of people out there who are really hungry, and when my tummy rumbles, I need to remind myself that there are people that aren’t doing this as a self-improvement program, and get over my little hangry.