Mar 29 2009
Ode to the Carbo-Load
I was all ready to run the Shamrock Shuffle today, but the snow scared me off. So, instead, I stayed inside and watched the calories from my carbo-load add girth to my ass. It was definitely a case of best laid plans. Last night I went to dinner with three friends who were also running the race. One of these friends could carbo-load every night since she is very skinny, the other burned off all her carbos after a night of hanky-panky with Jimmy D from Millionaire Matchmaker and the other is a dude (who for some reason insists on being referred to as a “troll” - he has issues) so I don’t think his carbo load make much difference. I took a very long time to figure out which hi-carb pasta dinner I was going to treat myself with. See in my world there are only three days when I can eat with abandon (the other times are not done with abandon but with intense guilt and remorse): (1) break the fast (2) thanksgiving and (3) the first seder (my mom makes all sorts of goodies that substitute fat for flour - yum). The carbo-load seemed like another chance - I was actually given license to eat carbs (after swearing them off for two weeks on south beach). So I happily stuffed my face with spaghetti bolognese and told myself I was going to work it all off during my big run. I do not think I am ready for the carbo-load. Ever since I was in high school I have had problems with sports rituals - I cannot think of a specific example, nor can I conceive of any other sport ritual beside the carbo-load, but you know what I am saying. Oh I take that back - when I was in track the coach always talked about “hammies” and how to stretch them, strengthen them, etc. Like the carbo-load debacle, my hammies were a mess (or so I assume). It is times like this (post carbo load) that I long for the stomach flu . . .
i dvred that episode of Millionaire Matchmaker and was going to delete it. But now i must watch with renewed interest knowing that you are connected to that guy.