So I did it. I sat in a car and a ferry and then a damn car again for a total of nine seemingly endless hours. Was it easy? No. Did I enjoy it? Not one bit. But I survived and I realized something amazing; somehow even though I was basically sedentary for the duration of the trip, my shirts still fit the same and I suddenly didn’t develop love handles when I slipped my pants on. “How could this possibly be?” I remember thinking to myself. “How could one do absolutely no exercise for a day and not spontaneously turn into a lardaceous mass?”
I’ll tell you why. Because the thought that you can “get fat” from traveling for a day is totally flawed. You see that ludicrous belief wasn’t formed by me. It was created by my eating disorder and I am finding more and more often that pretty much all the shit my eating disorder says to me is a bunch of bull. I know that challenging what my eating disorder tells me is going to be hard, but the more I do it, the sooner I will be able to free myself from my its merciless grip. I already proved to myself that becoming fat from not doing exercise all day won’t happen. If I can prove that wrong, I can prove anything my eating disorder says to me wrong. It’s just going to take some effort. It’s just going to take some willpower. And hey, it’s just going to take a lot of me!