Day 1: On the Road to Binge-Eating Recovery

I always, always say “I’ll start tomorrow” when I look at old photos of when I was more fit. I’ve really let my health & fitness go since I started working and moving minimally throughout the day and I’ve started to feel really blah when I try on clothes. Last night I signed up for a gym one-block down the street, telling myself that “I’ll start tomorrow” as I left to go home and scroll through Tumblr all night. Starting today, I forbid myself to use that phrase and will answer all tasks with “I’ll start today.” Let’s see how long this lasts — I’ll probably be eating macarons on my bed tomorrow. #100healthydays

Today, I actually followed through with step one of my plan to return to my fitness days. I stayed at work later than usual because today was just a day packed-full of deliverables that I had to get out all in one day. I managed to catch the limited express train into the city and made it there around 7 ish. Upon arriving, I wanted to complete my 5-star over 6 day Starbucks challenge (you get 8 bonus stars if you make it). I walked over to the one on 4th and King, battling my way through the stream of ‘Yonce-crazed fans on their way to the Jay-Z/Beyonce concert. When I walked out of the cafe, I saw a good looking guy sitting outside but just kept walking because it’s San Francisco — what else is new? Then I heard his laugh. It was a distinct laugh that I remember hearing from the 7th Grade up until my senior year of high school.

“Michael Jones?” I asked, turning around before I could even see his face.
“Dustin?!” he said, surprised. He was talking to two girls so I waited until he was done.

Apparently he had just landed a job in the city and was on his way to look at an apartment. But his phone died after 2.5 hours of traveling into the city and he was completely lost. I walked him to where we thought his apartment was and along the way we got to catch up on five years of missed interaction. I mean, the whole time I was just thinking, ‘Wow, what an effing small world.’ That thought repeated in my head over and over. He had driven into the city and parked his car near the Caltrain, where I happened to get off at the same time. I have never seen anyone I knew from before college in the city until I moved to San Francisco. I got to know about his full-pledged Frat life and his journey to get to where he is now. “Thank God I ran into you,” he told me. “I don’t know how I would’ve even found a way to find her number. I would have had to just given up and headed home.”

In the end, we wound up at an apartment place in SOMA that wasn’t the right one. He used my phone to find her phone number and called her to arrange a meeting place — 2 hours after their designated meeting time. He was about 7 blocks off and decided to go walk back to his car, get it, then drive to her location by following 3rd street until he found the cross street she told him to meet her at. I looked at him and told him, “No.” I mean — you see this lost white boy traveling with his laptop in a paper grocery bag + a bottle of rose wine. Would you let him walk through the city in the evening? No, he’d probably get himself mugged. I decided that part of my road to recovery is paying it forward. He was always a good friend to me in high school, so I would help him find his way back.

I requested an UberX and it arrived in about three minutes; opened the door, and told him to get in. I told the driver to take him back to the Safeway across from the Caltrain so he could pick up his car, thanked the driver and told Michael good luck. Michael was never humble in high school, at least in my eyes. But I could see now that he was a very thankful and appreciative person, if nothing but in that moment.

I went on my way and continued this path by going to the gym! Sweat like a mule and didn’t even binge-eat when I got home. Day one is done, with one good deed and a happy heart. All I need is my boyfriend to come home because I don’t want to watch the Kardashians without him.

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