Willpower, Girl Scout Cookies and Exercise

Willpower? What willpower? So I'm the cookie mom for our Girl Scout troop and to make life easier on myself, and because I am truly mathematically challenged, I went ahead and ordered cookies for our family based on how many boxes the troop needed to make up a complete case. (I hate extras and since my husband is working several states away, I can't make him take extra boxes into the office to sell so the troop doesn't get stuck with them like I did last year.) But do you think that I even once considered the fact that I would end up with a stinkin' boatload of cookies I can't keep my lips off of? Oh no. That never crossed my mind. Nevermind that I've been working really hard on my weight for over a year now and have been at the same (too high) plateau for 6 months now. No, making the cases complete is far more important than my lack of willpower or my waistline or even my sense of satisfaction with myself (plowing through a box at a time does not help me feel good--full, yes; good, no).

My garage is back to normal since I finally got everyone to pick up their cookies and I'm only left with the towering stack that belongs to my family. Funny how many cookies are left. It's been this way for a few days now and I was being pretty good about the temptation. I don't even think about the cookies before everyone has picked them up because I'm too afraid to take a box and mess up my count (one family thinks my count was off this year but that's another story--funny how everyone else got exactly the correct number of cookies). But now that it's just our cookies, well it's gotten harder. And two nights ago I gave in. I absolutely inhaled an entire box of Peanut Butter Patties (Tag-Alongs to those of you using the other GS bakery). I ate those suckers so fast I think the square footage of the house decreased from the suction. I ate like I thought someone was likely to come along and take them away from me. I ate them at 10 o'clock at night so my kids wouldn't see me being a complete glutton. Ask me how proud of myself I am.

Now ask me how guilty I felt. (Can Catholic guilt rub off? I think I've gained a good measure of it just by sending the kids to Catholic school.) I actually hauled my sorry butt out into practically knee deep slush and freezing water to run 6 miles in an effort to reverse the GS dimples already forming on my butt and thighs. Somehow I don't think it worked, which means I got soaked and nasty for nothing. Was that box of cookies worth an hour's unpleasant run? Well, they were pretty tasty but I'm not sure anything is worth the dead white, shriveled, wet feet I sported after finishing. And until my shoes dry out (they are seriously still wet more than 24 hours later), I guess I'd better stay away from the Thin Mints!