The First-Book Fifteen

--by Sara

Something has to be done. I love food and I don't really care for exercise. I'm also an emotional eater. I eat when I am sad, depressed, anxious, excited, and happy.

After all, we can't survive without food. Right?

Apparently, I also can't write without food.

I celebrate with food (contract, yay!), I wait with food (no news on submission, fear!), and I mourn with food (no sale this time, boo!).

And you know what? An apple with peanut butter just isn't the same as a bowl of M&M peanuts. Carrots, while orange, cannot replace Doritos. Water, coffee, and tea do nothing to keep me alert compared to a white mocha from Starbucks (with whipped cream, thank you very much - do they really need to ask?).

My scale (and my favorite jeans that refuse to button) liken this phase of my life to the first year of college (Freshman Fifteen) and the first year of marriage (Post Gown Fitting Fifteen) and the first year of parenting (First-Kid Fifteen).

I'm calling these new pounds the First-Book Fifteen, and while they have been very comforting to me, I think it's time to let them go. Preferably before I have to squeeze into a bathing suit, which will be quite soon, since I live in Houston and it's already approaching the 80s with approximately 300% humidity. We skip spring here and go directly from a handful of deep freezes to six months of brutal summer. But I digress.

To combat the First-Book Fifteen, I took the first step of setting myself up with regular running buddies three days a week. My neighbor will run 4 miles with me one day, my oldest son will run 2 miles with me another day, and my can of mace and one of the mutts will join me for 3 miles on a third day.  I realize the running doesn't exactly address the eating, but baby steps and all that.

Anyone else struggle with writing-induced bad habits?

*This post is also over at www.sarakparker.com