The Wagon

Last night I spent a second on or off the wagon, depending on how you look at it.  If the wagon is the old, fun Aryn--I had the pleasure of riding in the passenger seat for a moment; if the wagon is the fit-ish, boring Aryn--my feet touched the ground.

Now, before I set myself up for a barrage of hate mail, lemme assure you that this was a well thought out mission.  Weight Watchers points ingested were triangulated with those allotted, in advance.  I did some damage, but nothing to put me in the penalty box.

One of my promises to myself in starting this blog is that I would be utterly upfront and honest, both with myself and my readers (God it's weird to say "my readers").   Here goes.

Last night I had a blast.  I rounded up some cohorts, prettied myself up, and hit a few watering holes.  I gabbed a lot, listened a bunch, laughed a ton, drank a bit, and late nite ate.  Truly like old times.

So far this journey has made me more alive in many ways, yet less so in others.  I genuinely miss my nights of somewhat-reckless abandon.   I am fully aware that I gave them up for a very important reason--and I'm mostly ok with it.  But I'd be a total faker if I pretended that putting that part of me on hiatus has not dulled me a bit--it totally has.  

I know, I know my focus on fitness doesn't mean I have to be a hermit.  But it does mean that I can't go out on the town with the gusto that I'm accustomed to.  For some, giving this up is no big deal.  For me, it's huge.

Clearly tweaking this part of me is a growth area.  I am eager to learn how the vibrant, dynamic Aryn can flourish within my new system.  I'm not there yet.

Maybe last night was a set back; maybe it wasn't.  I don't have enough perspective on my new way of being yet to fully determine.  The good news is, I'm working on it.  Working harder than I can adequately express.