You can’t always eat like a rabbit
I confessed to a co-worker the other day that despite efforts to eat healthy and make like a rabbit and munch on carrots and lettuce and what I call Rambo salads – really, really big salads – some days are just total losses.
Case in point.
One day in recent not-very- nutritious consumption, I think I left my body in a state of sugar shock and the junk food jitters.
My intake for the day was:
— Coffee with cream. Lots of coffee.
— A big soft pretzel with extra cheese sauce.
— A second big soft pretzel with extra cheese sauce because the first one was so good.
— A helping of little soft pretzel pieces coated in sugar and cinnamon. They were samples – very yummy, not to mention free.
— A block of two-layered, very thick fudge – the top half peanut butter, the bottom half chocolate.
Honestly, it wasn’t all that good, a little shy on sweetness, if you want my opinion, but given the price by the pound, I wasn’t about to let it go to waste, so I inhaled it. It’s the principle of the thing. I have a clean plate reputation to maintain.
— A large mango flavored Italian ice, since I needed something to cleanse my palate of the super-sized serving of peanut butter and chocolate fudge that wasn’t up to my super sweet standards.
— A slab of cake that included an end piece that guarantees more icing because “that’s the way, uh-huh, uh-huh, I like it.” (I’m digressing to the 1970s hit by KC and the Sunshine Band.)
— Vanilla ice cream with chocolate sauce and strawberries.
— A plate of Cheetos with dip.
— Half a plate of regular chips for a sodium fix.
— Two glasses of sweet tea.
That’s what you call a day of “waisted” calories. Bring on the baggy pants.
After all that weight-lifting activity hoisting food from a plate, bowl or hand to my mouth, I decided a little calorie-burning the following day might be in order, so I participated in my very own version of a triathlon.
First, I went for a little jog, again at the speed of Janice.
Next up was participation in a friendly game of softball organized through my church, and by participation I mean I attempted to be not too embarrassing of a teammate playing outfield and stepping up to the plate to do something other than strike out.
When evening came and with it a cooler feel and fewer flies, off I?went for a ride on Coffee the quarter horse.
By the way, Coffee and I have officially been horse and owner now for three years of happy trails for the most part.
I celebrated by buying her some fly spray, a pretty purple lead line and some hoof dressing.
As for me?
I celebrated by having another piece of that way-too-thick, not-so-sweet fudge with peanut butter as the top layer and chocolate on the bottom.
Everything deserves a second chance.
(Kiaski, a resident of Richmond, is a staff columnist and features writer for the Herald-Star and The Weirton Daily Times and community editor for the Herald-Star. She can be contacted at firstname.lastname@example.org.)