…but they aren’t big of course; rather silly to be more exact.
This evening as I left work a little later than usual, I recognized that the bowl of soup I had for lunch wasn’t really holding me over as much as I would have liked for it to. I knew that by the time I got home, I was going to be VERY very hungry.
I was right. I got off the bus right at Loyola, walked through the bitter wind and found myself next to Subway where I noticed the beginning of another hypoglycemic attack starting (this is my fifth bad one in seven days). I got a six inch veggie patty sandwich and headed home. I got closer to the Loyola el stop and saw my beloved McDonald’s.
I don’t know what flip got switched in me sometime last year, but there I was, inside Micky D’s ordering up a number 11 – Fish Filet Sandwich (I get mine with mayo substituted for the tarter sauce – MUCH better that way) with a LARGE order of fries.
Oh man.
Sadly, I’ve noticed the few pounds my slovenly behavior has allowed me to gain, but that didn’t stop me from ordering anyway. I decided that, since I was given the official go ahead from the docs to resume a “normal” lifestyle again, I’d RUN from McDonald’s to my apartment to help get my metabolism going before I stuffed my face with bad for me fried goodness.
This isn’t as easy as it sounds when 1) you haven’t run or exercised in over two months, 2) it’s snowy and icy on the side walks and your shoes have no grip on the bottoms, 3) you are having a hypoglycemic attack and already feeling drained of energy and 4) you’re exhausted from a semi stressful day at work.
Needless to say, I gave it the old college try. I got half way, panting. I stopped. I walked a moment and thought about blogging this story and then got pissed at myself for thinking WHAT A LOOSER I AM THAT I CAN’T RUN FOUR BLOCKS FROM MCDONALD’S TO MY APARTMENT SO MY ASS DOESN’T GET ANY BIGGER. RUN FAT ASS RUN!!!
So I did. Again. Annoyance with myself motivated me to pick up my lazy feet and shuffle run the rest of the way home.
I got up the stairs, panting harder, threw off my coat, hat, scarf and boots and ran into the kitchen for a glass of 2% milk. I quickly fed the cats while stuffing my face (literally) with french fries, then sat down at my dining room table to polish them off along with the fish filet sandwich.
It was soooo good.
Then I ate 7/8′s of the six inch sub from Subway.
Then I fell immediately into FOOD COMA.
I walked into the bedroom, pulled up a blanket and passed out within 5 minutes of my head hitting the pillow. I woke up 40 minutes later to Sasha stabbing my foot as she tried to jump onto the bed, but missed and then proceeded to claw her way up to the top via my LEG. As I quickly drifted back into my food coma I noticed drool over the entire side of my face. I laughed at myself sleepily as I wiped it away and passed out again for another HOUR.
I woke up to Ivan, once? twice? as he let me know he could take me to target to get a prescription filled. I slept another hour till he got me.
I WAS SO TIRED!
Wow people, that just let’s you know how TRULY out of shape I have become. I’m almost ashamed, but I’m not. Ask me now as I write this, is the McDonald’s worth the tightness in my pants waistline or the thickening of my thighs and my answer will be a solid yes. I’m not looking to date anyone and therefore not looking to impress anyone with a smoke’n hot rocksolid bod, so yeah – it’s TOTALLY worth it.
Maybe in a year, when my waistline doesn’t get back down to it’s “usual” size I’ll be singing a different tune, but in the meanwhile, I really will enjoy the occasional McDonald’s treat with a side of nap!
In 2009, I still see some problems…
…but they aren’t big of course; rather silly to be more exact.
This evening as I left work a little later than usual, I recognized that the bowl of soup I had for lunch wasn’t really holding me over as much as I would have liked for it to. I knew that by the time I got home, I was going to be VERY very hungry.
I was right. I got off the bus right at Loyola, walked through the bitter wind and found myself next to Subway where I noticed the beginning of another hypoglycemic attack starting (this is my fifth bad one in seven days). I got a six inch veggie patty sandwich and headed home. I got closer to the Loyola el stop and saw my beloved McDonald’s.
I don’t know what flip got switched in me sometime last year, but there I was, inside Micky D’s ordering up a number 11 – Fish Filet Sandwich (I get mine with mayo substituted for the tarter sauce – MUCH better that way) with a LARGE order of fries.
Oh man.
Sadly, I’ve noticed the few pounds my slovenly behavior has allowed me to gain, but that didn’t stop me from ordering anyway. I decided that, since I was given the official go ahead from the docs to resume a “normal” lifestyle again, I’d RUN from McDonald’s to my apartment to help get my metabolism going before I stuffed my face with bad for me fried goodness.
This isn’t as easy as it sounds when 1) you haven’t run or exercised in over two months, 2) it’s snowy and icy on the side walks and your shoes have no grip on the bottoms, 3) you are having a hypoglycemic attack and already feeling drained of energy and 4) you’re exhausted from a semi stressful day at work.
Needless to say, I gave it the old college try. I got half way, panting. I stopped. I walked a moment and thought about blogging this story and then got pissed at myself for thinking WHAT A LOOSER I AM THAT I CAN’T RUN FOUR BLOCKS FROM MCDONALD’S TO MY APARTMENT SO MY ASS DOESN’T GET ANY BIGGER. RUN FAT ASS RUN!!!
So I did. Again. Annoyance with myself motivated me to pick up my lazy feet and shuffle run the rest of the way home.
I got up the stairs, panting harder, threw off my coat, hat, scarf and boots and ran into the kitchen for a glass of 2% milk. I quickly fed the cats while stuffing my face (literally) with french fries, then sat down at my dining room table to polish them off along with the fish filet sandwich.
It was soooo good.
Then I ate 7/8′s of the six inch sub from Subway.
Then I fell immediately into FOOD COMA.
I walked into the bedroom, pulled up a blanket and passed out within 5 minutes of my head hitting the pillow. I woke up 40 minutes later to Sasha stabbing my foot as she tried to jump onto the bed, but missed and then proceeded to claw her way up to the top via my LEG. As I quickly drifted back into my food coma I noticed drool over the entire side of my face. I laughed at myself sleepily as I wiped it away and passed out again for another HOUR.
I woke up to Ivan, once? twice? as he let me know he could take me to target to get a prescription filled. I slept another hour till he got me.
I WAS SO TIRED!
Wow people, that just let’s you know how TRULY out of shape I have become. I’m almost ashamed, but I’m not. Ask me now as I write this, is the McDonald’s worth the tightness in my pants waistline or the thickening of my thighs and my answer will be a solid yes. I’m not looking to date anyone and therefore not looking to impress anyone with a smoke’n hot rocksolid bod, so yeah – it’s TOTALLY worth it.
Maybe in a year, when my waistline doesn’t get back down to it’s “usual” size I’ll be singing a different tune, but in the meanwhile, I really will enjoy the occasional McDonald’s treat with a side of nap!
As they say, “Bah dah bah bah bah…I’m lovin’ it!”
This entry was posted on Wednesday, January 7th, 2009 at 10:57 pm and is filed under commentary, food, just 'cause, life, personal. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.