Day 80 - Indulgin'

The third and final indulgence started off well. With plans to eat out at my fave Mexican spot, I had intended to combine an outrageously rich meal with some killer cocktails. But then the restaurant plan was thwarted, and I decided to postpone the whole burrito fest.

Still, as I was getting my Saturday night swerve on, I was itching to indulge, just like the old days. So I had a drink, then another. The alcohol (in the form of what I used to consider the virtuous vodka soda) hit me like a ton o' bricks. It was fun though. It had been so long since I'd been out. I danced, I sang, I pretended I was 20, and had no regrets until I woke up this morning, looking and feeling like this guy:



Minus the sword. Seriously. My neck was stiff, my knee ached, my skin looked sallow and parched, and my throat felt scratchy, like I'd smoked 1000 cigarettes (though I'm pretty sure I was nowhere near a cigarette the entire night. One never knows). My hair smelled like smoke and yoga mat, a nice combo I'm sure my dancing partner enjoyed inhaling.

The hangover put me in the perfect mood to devour something rich and carby. I was dehydrated beyond belief, like a piece of jerky; yet, with no desire to drink water, I inhaled a few of these:
Onto the burrito. As maybe you've guessed, it wasn't as dope as I thought it would be. Number one, despite my intention to be calm and collected over the decision making process, I was a confused, thirsty mess as I tried to figure out which craving to satisfy. This time, it was my sister who bore the brunt of yet another endless morning of vacillation - brunch? Mexican? Pizza? Ice Cream? All of the above?.

The woman has been a pillar of patience, encouragement and strength these last 80 days - cheering me through planks, holding down rickety chairs so that I can do chest dips, tolerating the trembling floor as I jump rope...the PCP partners and family members out there know the deal. Gold stars for you all!

Since our grumbling, hungover bellies couldn't wait for my favorite burrito spot to open, we were forced into a bourgeois establishment called Lobo. The waiter was pretty awful (snooty service I do NOT miss) and though the chips were deliciously salty and fried, the burrito was anti-climactic. I finished most of the greens before digging into the bean-cheese-chicken monster, and left a bit of it on the plate. This was a first. Normally, I polish off burritos that weigh as much as a newborn.

The best part of the indulgence was hanging with my sister, and not having to wash or scrub or chop a damn thing. LIBERATION! I felt like screaming as I paid the bill. Released from the responsibilities of having to check ingredients or measure grams or clean up the kitchen, I could focus on the food, the flavors...it all seemed so exotic to me after 80 days of being away.


For dessert, we shared this fat-free frozen treat :


Again, the yogurt was meh - more akin to mashed up, swirled Fudgesicles than the ice cream impostor I used to revere it as. I can't believe I used to go ape-shit for this stuff!

The number one post-indulgence bummer is my energy level right now. It's a beautiful day, and all I want to do after that night out and fatty meal is SLEEP! My lids are leaden. Where is the energy to run and jump and pull things?? I hope it comes back tonight, because this week's workouts have been killer! Patick's right though - a lot can change in 10 days, and I'm excited to see where we will be next Thursday...only time and egg whites will tell...