I am writing from the Sunday evening of my final Whole30 weekend, and to be honest I went into this weekend with a fair amount of trepidation…maybe even more than the first.

It’s kind of a good news, bad news situation.

Good news, I survived the plague and my energy levels are way up. Dare I say I even have had moments that I would qualify as Tiger Blood? For instance, I heard myself whistle while doing laundry and I may have accidentally sang a Taylor Swift lyric out loud while walking on the sidewalk.

Bad news, almost all of that energy was funneled into Over-This-Itis on Friday and the only thing my brain had in mind by way of weekend plans was swan diving off of a tower of donuts into an oversized chocolate fondue fountain while pouring sprinkles into my mouth…you know, so the liquid chocolate would have a little crunch.

Rationally, I knew this was the equivalent of a psychological toddler meltdown in the middle of the grocery store since we are way past actual sugar dependency, so it was up to me to get my red-faced-screaming-toddler-brain in check.

Since the hubs was going to be largely out of pocket, I knew it was up to me to grab my brain firmly by the hand and march it out to the car where we would have a serious talk about acceptable behavior in public spaces.

First things first, I exercised. Oh the glorious feeling of the first endorphins after a week of being away. Walking home from the gym (this may or may not have been when the Taylor slipped from my lips) I wondered how much my endorphin drought had contributed to my fondue fantasies. No matter what, so grateful to have that outlet back in my life.

Then I decided to take myself on a date.

“Self,” I asked, “What would you like to do?”

“Well I’m so glad you asked! You know I’ve had quite the week this week with the plague and all, and Brain will not shut up about jalapeno poppers.”

“Um, because they are delicious and gooey and crunchy and a little spicy and I would like 247 of them right now,” Brain said.

“Brain…I am going to count to three.”

“But the cheese is INSIDE THE PEPPER!!”

“One…”

“And they are fried and so CRISPY!”

“Two…”

“Okay, okay.”

So Self and I settled on a leisurely walk to the nail salon. I tried to really focus on the breeze, and how good it felt to be out of the house after being so sick. I listened to a great new podcast and did lots of nice deep breaths to keep Brain in time out.

After some glorious time spent in a massage chair and the feeling of pretty that only a fresh coat of appendage paint can provide, I continued my stroll.

I wandered down to one of my favorite bookstores in DC and took my time. I touched at least 47 books, flipped through their pages, wandered completely aimlessly until I settled on one that felt like something me, Self and Brain would all be satisfied with.

By the time I got home I made dinner, changed into sweatpants (yes the kind with feet), poured myself a Kombucha and curled up with my new book.

It. Was. Glorious.

And as I sit here writing this post I feel genuinely excited for the final three days and there is not a single donut shaped craving in sight.

And look at what I was able to prove to myself with a workout, a walk and a new book? I proved that I am in charge of my brain and my cravings and just because Brain is jonesing for some poppers, it doesn’t mean it is the right thing. It has to be worth it, right? And isn’t that the whole freaking point.

Now that is a NSV for the books, friends.

P.S. You definitely have to read about Jen’s new relationship status with plantains and plans to curb the carb cravings!