Last night, after drenching myself through 4.5 miles in 50 minutes and 500 calories gone, I could think of only three things. The feeling of the cool air on my sweaty skin while driving with the windows down the 2 minutes home, the chocolaty goodness of fresh-ish brownies in the refrigerator and an ice cold glass of 2% milk to wash it down. What?!? Let's rewind to the beginning of the chocolate catastrophe and break it down.
a.) I don't even like chocolate. The taste usually induces vomit or gagging and I'm just not interested
b.) I think the only thing I detest more than chocolate is any milk with a higher percent than 0. Skim milk is my sheppard, I shall not want.
Seriously, what came over me? The only thing I can attribute to this breakdown in my taste buds is the hearty workout and feeling of accomplishment. I craved myself some comfort food, and by golly, I treated myself to it. And do you know how it felt? Magical.
Tonight brings another night of cardio to my table, but the brownies and milk won't be making the dinner table cut. Life can't be sweet ALL the time!
mayb ur preggers :-)
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