Yesterday went great. I got all my exercises in, I stayed within my calorie budget, I walked a little over 5.5 Miles, and generally I feel… well, I actually feel pretty tired and a little sore. I also feel pretty good, but definitely sore and tired. It’s been a while, you know?
I did make one modification to my regiment, though. This week, I’m only doing two sets of ten reps with the dumbbells. After yesterday, when I decided to cancel the third set because everything was aching, it’s clear that I need to ease back into things. Not to the degree that I need to go back to the five pound weights, mind, but enough that I don’t want to accidentally injure myself. That would be bad.
So. What does this have to do with “boredom”? Nothing. Nothing at all. No, the title of this post comes from a realization I had a few minutes before I was writing. I was contemplating digging into my stash of dried fruit (my emergency “I need to eat something” stash), and I asked myself why I was considering that. I wasn’t actually hungry, after all.
No. It turns out that I wanted to eat because I was feeling bored. Which is a ridiculous thing, once I realized it. I just wanted something to do, and immediately thought of food. And even now, having realized it, part of me is still wanting to eat something. Not because I’m hungry. Not because I really want the taste of something. Just because it’s something to do.
I knew I ate when stressed. I never thought I’d eat because of boredom. Strange.