Cheeseburger my Enemy
To start with I made a typo that I happily discovered moments before I hit the publish button. Instead of writing Cheeseburger my Enemy I accidentally wrote Cheeseburger my Enema.
Now that would have been an interesting post.
I curse you dear photo
In the summer of 2009 I was looking through a collection of pictures that had recently been taken. Suddenly a picture of me flashed before my eyes causing me to gasp.
I was no longer thin. No longer trim. No long anything that starts with a T and no longer anything but fat.
Not long after this shocking development I had my yearly physical. The doctor suggested I lose ten pounds. I upped the wager and said twenty.
I remember later that day, while visiting my favorite burger shop, I wondered what exactly the problem could be. As I looked down at my favorite cheeseburger dripping on my favorite shirt I realized in that moment that I wasn’t the rocket scientist I claimed to be.
The Master Plan
The solution was simple: Instead of a cheeseburger every other day reward myself with one per week.
Well, not exactly. At the time the kids had lots of activities which required a lot of driving. It was then that I noticed all the burger joints in town.
For a while I was convinced the cheeseburgers were following me. Wendy’s and McDonalds were running neck and neck while the always beloved Five Guys was gaining speed.
Their signs were big, beautiful and oh so welcoming. I swear they were calling my name. It was in that moment of name calling and sweet beautiful sign images that I realized just how hard it was to eat healthy.
The world is my deep fryer
It wasn’t long after this that I realized I no longer needed my belt. My shirts were snug and my back was constantly killing me.
Somehow I forced myself to turn away. No more Tuesday’s two for one specials with a side milkshake. Now there was this weird dish called a salad. This funny green thing called a cucumber and a red object I once saw on the Wizard of Oz the locals call an apple.
But the most shocking thing of all was the discovery that there are actual things in this world that are not deep fried.
I know, weird.
By the end of the year I dropped twenty-five pounds. As the years have passed somehow I have kept the pounds off.
I won’t lie, every now and then I give in to a pizza on a Friday night but I do it in moderation.
I have actually learned to develop a fond taste of salad, red peppers and raw carrots. Sure, a juicy cheeseburger is hard to pass up but somehow I keep my head down and keep moving.
A salute to all of you who are able to run away from those tasty cheeseburgers. Keep your head down and continue the good fight.
We’re in this together!!!!!
Happy Friday Everyone!!!