Confessions

It has been far too long since my last confession — though, not surprisingly, by no means long enough since my last indiscretion.  Time to come clean.

While I’m usually pretty good at eating well and steering clear of temptation, I certainly have my off days.  Yesterday was one of them.

I may have indulged in a slice two slices of carrot cake…before noon.  I blame the birthday boy at the office, not my lack of will power.  And I may have come home from work and baked a loaf of homemade Irish brown bread, eaten a third and called it dinner.  I may have also skipped my usual salad in favor of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, but one can’t be certain.

One thing that is certain?  My stomach is not happy.  That’s a lot of carbs for my poor, conceivably gluten-sensitive tummy to take.  It’s painful, distended and it is screaming its objections.  I managed to complete my 7 mile tempo run with minimal discomfort, but once I stopped it was game on.  So. Much. Pain.  I cried on the walk back to the car.

Dear Tummy,

I’m sorry.  I’ll make it up to you — tomorrow will be all fruits and veggies.  I’ll throw the brown bread in the trash!  I’ll eat lean and green and do my very best to get back into your good graces.  I’ll do my penance because we all know the benefits of a healthy diet, but mostly because two slices of moist, delicious cake is so not worth a ruined Friday night spent in bed.  Ugh.

Your most humble and obedient host,
Olivia