It's been eight weeks.

March 7 Supper is in the Crockpot -- Roast, Garlic, Red Wine, a Bit of EVOO, Onion,
Crushed Peppercorns, & Bay Leaves

It's been eight weeks since I've:

• Eaten a cookie, cupcake, or piece of bread.
• Tasted the cold, creamy sweetness of ice cream.
• Sipped a latte, a martini, a vodka tonic, or even a beloved Izze.
• Noshed on a bagel, kernel of rice, a plate of pasta, or a warm cheesy slice of pizza.
• Crunched a Cheeto, pretzel M&M, or a boxful of Triscuits with hummus while cooking dinner.

But, please, please don't feel sorry for me!


Because it's been eight weeks since I've:

• Felt the shaky mood swings, anxiety, and energy crashes that were brought on by former food choices.
• Battled blemishes on my forehead.
• Squeezed into my too-small jeans and pants.
• Cramped and become panicked to find a bathroom while running any distance more than 3+ miles.  (Sorry if that's TMI people, but it's true.)
• Used food for a reward -- not fuel.

And, I'm pretty darn proud.


jpq


P.S.  To the A++++Wow!!! employee at Whole Foods:  Thanks for remembering me and asking, "How is Paleo going?" each time you see me.