By this time I had ran/walked/ran 6.32 miles in the run and attempted some weight lifting and had a "good" meal. (Veggies/protein/carbs/fruit.) I'd made brown rice for Hubby's dinner and had a nice steak marinating in rubbing spices for him.
Followers of this journey will remember that I have a Clif Bar issue. It's really weird. I KNOW they don't taste that good. I know they are in no way "Protein" or "Healthy" and if you look at one and compare they calorie count, they are absolutely miniscule for the amount of calories (240-280). And yet...and yet...I got hungry, I could feel ye olde blood sugar crashing, and the back of my head getting fuzzy and damn it, I wanted a Clif Bar.
Rotation at the Mint was getting long and I knew I had at least 45 minutes between songs and some stuff to pick up at Safeway---where my devious disease KNEW I could get a Clif Bar at check-out.
So I got my stuff AND a nice 100 calorie Chobani Yogurt, plus some fruit and headed for check out to see what Clif Bars were there---OMG CHOCOLATE BROWNIE---NUM NUM NUM.
The argument between 230 Calories and I WANT CLIF BAR went on and on and on. I had the bar on the conveyer belt heading toward the cash register. CUE O FORTUNA with close-up on Clif Bar and calorie count/scale god/fat me images in my head.
Last possible second----pulled the bar off the belt and put it back in the box with its evil compadres.
Went to Mint and ate yogurt and apple. Almost same calorie count and some sugar, but not giving in to my particular demon.
I'm calling it a victory although I had a LOT of anger/hunger pangs over it through the rest of the day and ate a lot of fruit. But still.
Besides-I still had the spector of the DREADED BIRTHDAY DINNER hanging over me, and a close encounter with the