Today I leaned that, after a tough test like a triathlon, it makes sense to give your body a day or two to rest. My couch is a guilt-free zone, and bring on the gelato. (That’s right – gelato. Italian ice cream. Why? Because it’s ice cream…with attitude. Forgetaboutit).
I know that one of my goals is to lose weight and drop to 185 pounds. And yes – I completely suck at being good when it comes to dieting (“do you want fries with that?” “DUH”). But just through jacking up my exercise regimen I am dropping pounds. Down 2 pant sizes, but nowhere near where I want to be. I could accelerate the weight loss by being disciplined and watching every single thing it eat. HOWEVER – the day after a race, time stands still the moment I hop on my couch. Every scoop of gelato contains zero calories. The space-time continuum freezes and anything I eat the day after a race is immediately banished to an alternate universe where I am 6’4″ and only weigh 140 pounds and in dire need of empty calories.
That’s right: Bizzaro Turtle exists somewhere.
….trust no one. The truth is out there.
(I just read the last few lines – I cannot believe I just referenced The X Files. Nerd alert.)
