Yesterday was the first meeting of the Social Walking Group with Walking for Wellbeing. Less of a group walk, more of a pair.
I invited thirty people, half of whom were unlikely targets in the first place. Of the rest, six people confirmed attendance on Facebook and I went to the meeting point excited at what I'd managed to put together. I dragged daughter and her friend along to make up the numbers and there'd be nine of us wandering the countryside.
Waiting outside the pub, one by one the text messages came through. Sorry, hung-over. Sorry, can't make it. I had to phone two of my good friends fifteen minutes after meeting time to find out where they were - tired and hung-over and ultimately forgotten all about it. Once I realised it'd just be me and the one friend who turned up, I gave daughter and her mate the choice of coming with us or heading home. Off she went leaving the pair of us to enjoy a lovely walk and a good chat.
I still feel very disappointed. Many of these people are friends who know how much this project means to me; people who, with a little bit of thought, would know I'd be really disappointed they weren't coming to share this experience with me. The start of my walking group! How exciting! Come along and support my endeavour to get folks interested in walking, meet new people and share the great outdoors! If this had been a party I was throwing I'd be devastated.
I'm trying so hard not to let my disappointment affect my enthusiasm for this part of the project but christ, that's hard. What's not to say every walk will be like this, I'll make big plans, get my hopes up and be let down again? Possibly. But I really like the idea of group walks locally and hopefully I'll be able to get some momentum going with some updated posters around the town and continued publicity on Facebook.
A little reading online is telling me not to blame others for my disappointment and accept that the feeling comes from within, feel it and move past it. I really hope that's possible because at the moment I feel like shit.
Yesterday I got home after the walk and pretty much stuffed my face with banana bread. A paragraph of the text I read earlier said 'You may go back to tried and tested coping mechanisms such as pigging out or drowning your sorrows with alcohol.' Hence the title of this post and the realisation that food and comfort eating were a big part of my life until I changed my diet for the better.
I was going to write more but my phone's dicking about and I'm just getting more and more aggravated and wound up, so I'll finish this off another time before I punch my fucking knuckles off or destroy my phone.
Ok. I was stewing for an hour after writing this then spent the rest of the day in a reasonably good mood. I think writing it out was very useful and I understand it's not their fault I felt that way, it was mine. They might have been the trigger, but the sheer scale of the feeling came from within me. I didn't appear to have any control over that and it spiralled out of control.
It's comforting to me that the 'banana bread incident' was the first time I've binged on any kind of food - or alcohol - for around a month. I've lost a whole bunch of weight and want to keep up the momentum to lose all my body fat and buff up. I've got plenty to be happy about at the moment, but considering my past it's no surprise I have the occasional blip, which I see as an opportunity to learn about my emotions and how to improve my mental toolset to help me cope better in future.
Also, I've ordered a second-hand Palm Pre to replace this frustrating phone. It should arrive in the next few days and I'm rather excited about it, although not too excited - I wouldn't want to end up disappointed.
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