The devil made me do it.
Actually I have no idea how it ended up inside me, but I had four slices of meat trio pizza yesterday along with a salad that wouldn’t fit in a mailbox.
I think I waited too long to eat. I had a mini lunch snack and then took the kids on a car adventure two cities away for craft supplies and fought traffic in 94 degree heat for over and hour to make it back home. Rushing to find something for dinner that wouldn’t break the bank to feed 5 people, I stopped by a quick pizza shop and took home 2 Meat Trio large pizzas.
The smell that filled the cabin of my small economy Mama Taxi was unreal. Heavenly is more like it. Piping hot and just like they said, Hot and ready! Since my son Ben was already running late to his library Teen advisory Board meeting, I tossed him a napkin and told him to eat on the way home to drop off his sister and before we picked up his best friend to go along.
Just watching him woof down that pizza made me hungry.
By the time we got home that pepperoni aroma had already set up camp in my brain. I could not think of anything else. “Just a half slice” I muttered to myself as I tore open the cardboard box and retrieved a whole piece. “Just one piece then.”
I made a salad in hopes to quell that pizza monster that was now growing hair on it’s back and gaining strength in my Marinara‘d belly. I ate the salad and then I was still hungry. “DINNER!” I yelled to anyone in earshot and then realized except for my wee one Lydia who had already eaten, I was the only one in the house.
So I had one more piece. Then two more. With a total of 4 slices in my gut I felt an overwhelming satisfaction that I had not had in a long time…satisfaction that was followed by a really bad stomach ache, guilt and a sincere wish that I had not had any at all or at the very most- one slice. (which according to my nutrient list was a whopping 380 calories per!)
So I tried to stop the guilt. Because for me, that guilty monkey on my back, makes me hungry. Sends me for saltines and makes me want to eat my remorse away. It never works but I used to do it anyway…so I stopped it in its tracks and drank a ton of water and made a promise to let it go.
I just set it free. I said, “You know, it’s pizza. Not heroin. I just had more than I should. It was delicious. I loved it and tomorrow I will pay for it on the asphalt.”
And I did.
Did I ever! I put myself through the paces as I hit the road at 9:15 this morning in the 90 degree heat. I would not allow myself to stop until I did just over 2 miles which according to my pedometer is about 4,200 steps. Then I crawled indoors and worked out on the basketball court shooting baskets and running the court for another 2250 steps. So I managed just over 3 miles of continuous, sweaty, cardio pounding, fat melting exercise and I felt much better about my pizza meal.
Sure, it slowed me down some. I still felt the weight of that sticky dough in my belly, but I felt better once I had burned some of it up from my head to my toes.
So I came in from my workout, freshly showered and relieved. Then had a sensible giant salad and swore I would never let myself get that hungry again. Yesterday I went way too long without nutrition of some sort. I even denied myself water on my journey which really sent me into a spin. Since I usually have 10 glasses a day if I am hanging around the house.
So I took a side step and it was delicious.
Not something I want to do again anytime soon, but when I do, I will survive.
It’s all part of the journey, getting lost now and then.