That I have solved all of the world's problems. At least all of the world's problems with crime. It is this: feed the bad guys Snickers bars and give them a comfortable place to sit.
I did not run yesterday at lunch time, because it was too cold. Instead, I ate fistfuls of mini chocolate bars and compulsively checked my email to see if we had gotten any word from THE foundation. Nope.
You know how they say that when you need energy, you shouldn’t reach for a candy bar, but instead you should go out for a brisk walk? When I hear that, I usually tune out after “candy bar.” My inner monologue goes something like this, “Nomnomnomnomom. I like candy bars. Yes, I LIKE candy bars. I like Snickers bars and Crunch Bars and Kit Kats. Nomnomnomnomnom… Dark chocolate… milk chocolate… is anyone else hungry? Where’s the closest vending machine? I like candy bars.”
Well, anywho, it turns out there may be something to this whole “walk, not chocolate” idea. After inhaling the bowlful of Valentine’s Day chocolate yesterday, I transformed into a slug. I pushed myself out the door for a Pilates class in the evening, but it was hardly worth the effort. I laid on the floor for forty-five minutes pretending to do torso curl ups or whatever and zoned out.
I won’t do anything foolish like give up chocolate completely, but I have slowly started to make the link between the food I eat and the way I feel afterwards. Turns out those recommendations for choosing a walk over a chocolate bar may not be based on chocolate hating after all.
…But what if I dipped sprouts in the chocolate, and ate them WHILE I walked?
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