I was sitting at my desk today, and I felt something I haven’t felt in a while.

Hunger.

I had about an hour before lunch. I sat there and did inventory. Was I munchy (my term for when I want to eat from a place of emotion or boredom) or was I physically hungry? I’d had coffee, a small muffin, and a banana. It’d been almost 4 hours since I’d eaten. I was definitely not full when I went to bed last night. Maybe I really was hungry.

Instead of panicking or looking for something to eat, I sat with Hungry.

It’s been a long Christmas season of indulgences. Peanut butter balls, cookies, greasy pizza. A great holiday season that I wouldn’t change if I could. The fact that I kept exercising is the only thing that kept me doing more damage than I did.

Sitting all alone in my office today, I embraced my hunger like a badge of honor. In a very similar way to when I’m sore after a run. I was almost proud of myself. I recognized hunger, reasoned through hunger, and accepted hunger. I knew I was going to eat soon. And I didn’t eat early or dig out a snack or anything irrational. I was hungry. And I stayed on my plan.

And I can do it again.

When lunchtime rolled around, I enjoyed my lunch. I took the time to savor each bite because I really wanted it, because I knew my body needed it. I didn’t shovel it in. I didn’t overeat. I didn’t turn to something else when my planned lunch was finished.

I spent some time with hungry. And came out proud.

(And, in case you’re wondering, this is breakfast, and this is lunch. I had the chocolate about four hours after lunch – I just grouped them together. And the chocolate was a treat that I planned for.)