The point at which a new diet and old habits collide, resulting a frantic, usually late night excursion to the local grocery where you wander the bakery searching for any combination of high fat, high sugar goodies to satisfy your sweet-toothed lust.
Large Marge: So, how's the diet going?
Fatty McFatterson: I totally blew it last night. I tried to fight it, but it was a piemergency. I HAD to get some sugar!
To jog at a gentle walking pace. Not to be confused with actual exercise. Moonjogging looks like normal jogging, but the rate of speed is so slow, that the person almost seems to be running in slow motion, not unlike the images of man's first walk on the moon. Often accompanied by face grimacing, exaggerated movements, lethargy (presumably from exhaustion), assorted running gear (colorful headbands, ipods, reflective tape, light up sneakers), and a conspicuous lack of perspiration (and dignity).
Stan: "Hey, check out that chick jogging up ahead!"
Bill: "Jogging? How much exercise could you get from moving that slow?"
Stan: "Maybe she doesn't want to hurt herself?"
Bill: "Or... maybe she's afraid of hurting the ground, or killing a bug underfoot!"
Stan: "ha ha, perhaps. It's almost like she's running in zero gravity or something!"
Bill: "Yeah, she's moonjogging!"