Last week Thursday, Jon accompanied me to my personal training session at 6:45AM so he could continue working on stretching his hip flexors. (Just ask him about “groiners”; he loves ’em.) He and I hadn’t had our usual Saturday sessions where we go together and I take the first forty-five minutes and he takes the second because Carley, our mustache-man trainer, had competitions to attend for the previous few Saturdays. Since this was the first time he got to see both of us at once, it was an opportunity to confront us about our obviously atrocious eating habits.

We had had such a good September and had seen early results . . . and then I think we got excited in October and decided to eat pizza. Often. And drink beer. And eat doughnuts.

We have a love-hate relationship with Paula's Doughnuts.

We have a love-hate relationship with Paula’s Doughnuts.

Of course Carley noticed. Whether it was how sluggish we were, how our workout clothes were fitting (or not fitting, rather), the booze on our breath from the night before, or some combination of these, we were not fooling him. He told us we needed to get our diets in check, and he wasn’t telling us this because he thought we looked fat. He knows how much nutrition affects even a single workout, so if we’re lagging or struggling because we have no energy or don’t feel well, we’re wasting everyone’s time. I mean, honestly, we’re paying him to help make us stronger and faster. So he wants us to get as much out of our sessions as we possibly can. He needs us to do the “homework” of three days at our gym (push day, pull day, leg day) and then our two days with him. If we don’t, why even bother going?

He didn’t lecture us like that, but Jon and I lectured ourselves on the way home. We know what we need to do (which is something Carley said), we just have to decide which we want more: tasty doughnuts and pizza that will make our stomachs hurt for hours after . . . or a PR for our next half marathon. It’s silly how difficult it can be to say “No!!” to treats, even though the pleasure from eating them lasts for only a few moments. I’d like to think the joy of an awesome half marathon time would last longer than the joy from fun-size Twizzlers Pull-and-Peel candies . . .

Get out of here, candy! You're ruining things!

Get out of here, candy! You’re ruining things!

After our chat with Carley, Jon and I revamped our approach to our diets. We bought mostly veggies, protein, and some dairy, avoiding most processed foods (sandwich thins and Stacey’s pita chips made it into the basket). We’ve started packing lunches the night before, which is a HUGE help in the mornings. We made a big pot of veggie chili on Sunday that was our dinner on Monday and for most of our lunches the rest of the week. (Side note: sweet potato in chili is kind of the best idea we’ve had in a long time. Amazing.) And we’ve been waking up earlier to hit the gym, which tires us out so we are in bed by about eleven o’clock. My sincere hope is that November isn’t just another phase like September was. I don’t think I could handle the yo-yo cycle of one month on, one month off. If nothing else, the sound of disappointment in Carley’s voice was near soul crushing, so I don’t want to hear that again. We’re off to a good start, and with Thanksgiving coming up, it will certainly be a test. Here’s hoping we pass!!