"You know, these are some nice Grandmas you've got here." - Aaron Baker, pointing to my five generation maternal line picture on the wall

I started a food journal this past week. I thought maybe that it would help me to figure out why I eat. But, I was thinking about it. I know why I eat. Because it is FUN, it tastes yummy, sometimes I am bored, because everyone else is eating, because I am on the phone with Happiness, because it is in the fridge etc, etc, etc. Pretty much, if I am breathing, I am thinking about what next to eat. Over the weekend I made and then ate an entire fresh peach pie....and then at least half of a large Papa Murphy's pepperoni pizza. Granted, it was dang good. But really, I have a serious problem. We're talking "shift the whole focus of my life" problem. But, I am determined to overcome. I actually look at biscuits and cookies and say outloud to myself "Skinny girls don't eat you. I won't let you ruin my diet. I won't let you keep me from fitting into my white Banana Republic pants next summer."

This little psychological exercise only works about 20% of the time, unfortunately. I just keep giving myself reasons to break the diet. "It's Sunday." "It's Friday." "I have guests over." "I need to make something 'fun' with these peaches." "I should make a treat for the neighbors." "I need to make something 'fun' for Aaron." "It's Saturday." "We need a treat for Family Home Evening." "It's mutual night."

So, anyway, Mom and I moved her treadmill over to my house last Friday. It is now in my basement and I have actually used it several times. I sincerely enjoy exercising--that is not my problem. My problem comes in the over-indulging in eating. I mean, probably 'one piece' of peach pie would have been fine. But no. I have to eat the whole thing.

I am trying to learn to replace eating with something else...