One of Those Moments (Or, Sam Ate a Hot Dog)

This morning I had one of "those" moments, the ones that happen to newly healthy people when they realize something in their brain/stomach has changed for the better. Luckily I have this moment recorded via text message because I shared it with Sam as it was happening, so now I can share it with you. This conversation has not been edited except where keyboard-related spelling and punctuation errors occured (or at least that's what we're going to call them for Sam's sake).
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Scene: 10am. Jenny and Sam are both at their respective work locations.

Sam: I'm admitting I got a hot dog. I'm starving and the fruit at the eleven looked bad.. (Note from Jenny: She's referring to 7 Eleven.)

Jenny: Haha ok. (Note from Jenny: I mean, really, what was I going to say? Shame on you for ingesting a nitrate-laden meat stick of doom? ...damn it, that's good. I should have said that.)

Sam: It was a bad decision...I let my stomach do the picking. (Note from Jenny: Good thing I didn't throw the meat stick line at her...she already feels bad.)

Jenny: 

This was delivered to my office this morning and I'm honestly not even interested in it.

Sam: Great job!

Jenny: I mean I wouldn't eat it even if I was but my stomach at no point was like "Ooooooh, chocolate eggs!"

Jenny: Probably because cheap Easter chocolate tastes like shit.

Sam: Hahaha it's Easter....I would allow a piece....I had a hot dog in the name of Easter. (Note from Jenny: It's not Easter. Homegirl is clearly confused.)

Sam: True it does. (Note from Jenny: She's replying to the shitty chocolate text above...homegirl's a little behind.)

Jenny: Yeah, it's Easter (it's not, but I didn't want to confuse her further) but what I'm saying is I don't want it. That's the point. I preferred my oatmeal with mashed up banana. It was good. Better than a grocery store cinnamon bun cake thing would be. Get what I'm saying?

Jenny: And besides, Easter doesn't care what I weigh, so I'll have to do the caring myself.

Sam: Yes I do. (Note from Jenny: She's replying to the oatmeal over cinnamon bun cake thing text above...homegirl clearly can't keep up with my lightning quick texting skills.)

Jenny: Baked "fried" pickles for Easter. It's happening.

Sam: Sounds good.
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Okay, the end of the conversation went off track a little there, but the point is I legit wanted the oatmeal over the baked good thing (after someone cut in to it, it appears to be a fruitcake-like pastry with icing crosses on top?). Fatso Jenny of pre-August 2011/the blog/The Plan days would have eaten a big piece of it just because it was there. And several of those foil-wrapped eggs, too. And then a few more when no one was paying attention. And then some for lunch because "it's lunch." And she wouldn't have felt bad because "it's Easter." Current Jenny (that's me- hi!) heard of food and her first thought was "Something healthy?" And when she saw that it certainly was not (as she suspected because it never is), she thought "Meh. Gross."

That is growth, people. And not expanding waistline growth, but the good kind that comes after months of training my sugar-ruined body and brain to prefer healthy food. Yes, I still desire and eat bad-for-you food (pizza). But I do it occasionally and when I really, really want something. Not because "it's lunch/Easter/Friday/whatever." I honestly never expected that type of change from myself. I thought I was destined to fight my brain and stomach to the very end just to be healthy. And I was willing to do it. Now I realize I don't have to fight. My brain and stomach are my friends! They're helping me! I'm helping them! It's all good under my hood! And that is such a wonderful thing to realize.

Note from Jenny: No offense if you eat hot dogs. I miss them, I really do.