Support Unit

While running on the treadmill this morning, I was hashing over a conversation I had in my kitchen with my mom.  Mostly it was a comment I made.  The comment was bugging me as I stared at the text message my friend Sheila had sent me with encouraging words to get my four miles in before the day was over.  As I stared at her text, my words echoed in my head.  In a moment of bitchiness, I made a comment about eccentric ideas.  Me the hypocrite who is always looking for support did not show support this morning.  I have been working on creating a support unit to get me to the finish line of the CIM with a faster time, yet I am not willing to be supportive of a diet plan.  Did I ask how I could help?  No, I was in a pissy mood because it was inconveniencing me.  How dare I?  As I pounded out a few miles on the treadmill, I realized how obnoxious and hurtful my comment was.  I vowed at that moment to be supportive of every ones desire to get into shape or to be thin.  It is what I am constantly striving for.  It is also what I am constantly asking people to help me with.  I truly did not mean to be obnoxious or rude, but in a lapse of judgment I was.  No more!  I am usually a supportive person, and by recognizing my stupidity I have taken a step closer to being a better person (I hope).