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I woke up in a foul mood today.  My brain tried to find a reason or at least a way to jolly myself out of it. I tried to get over it by praying, watching cartoons with Ruby while in our pajamas, and doing laundry. Nothing seemed to work.  I peeked outside.  The sun reflected off a pale, clear sky. Eureka!  I could go running outside.  It had been awhile.

The high winds of Saturday left tree debris everywhere.  Little prickly green tree fingers spangled the ground. I dodged downed pinecones, dark deposits against the shiny pavement. Sometimes, whole Douglas fir tree hands spanned the asphalt.  It was as if the trees had a most triumphant party and forgot to invite us humans.  Their piny dropped appendages seemed an attempt to make amends by shaking hands, albeit after the fact.

As I moved along, the sun shone down on me.  My back warmed up. I was glad I left my coat behind. I almost always get too warm with it on, anyway, plus I figured the more Vitamin D my skin could suck up, the better. I let the funky Kirk Franklin praise songs wash over me. I didn’t think of much except to keep moving forward.

And then, all of a sudden, I was okay. I only ran 3 miles but it was enough.  I realized I had been feeling sorry for myself on this 3-week junk food fast.  “Everyone else gets to eat tasty food, and I don’t! Poor me.” Wow, Susan. Like eating food that fuels your body well is some kind of punishment. I have a few more days to go.  I want to be mindful of the time left on this quest, enjoy the foods I get to eat and thank God for them. I’m breaking free of emotional eating and making better choices.  It’s worth it.

May the words of my mouth
    and the meditation of my heart
be pleasing to you,
    O Lord, my rock and my redeemer. – Psalm 19:14

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