Fatty Foods and Running Guilt.

Do you see that wonderful creation to your right?

That's an Applebee's Maple Butter Blondie dessert.

It's fucking incredible. It's an orgasm that comes served to you on a sizzling plate. While you're transfixed staring at the stack of ice cream, walnuts and pecans, some sort of magic sauce is poured over - covering the ice cream, boiling and caramelizing as it hits the plate.

And then you eat.

Now, you're probably already 3/4 full from your dinner, but it doesn't matter. Once the taste of this motherfucker hits your palate, you are instantly compelled to finish it all. The wife and I share, and even then we are battling over the last few crumbs.

The worst thing I ever did was look at the nutritional information on my beloved Blondie. Each serving has 990 calories - and that's where the guilt kicks in.

Skinny Me knows that splitting the Blondie (Sound's like an 80's Porn slang, amirite?) was a good idea, but he also knows that those 500 calories, plus what dinner was, equal at least an hour running.

Fatty Me doesn't care - that dessert is worth it.

Skinny Me knows that you can't cut out everything from your diet and, in moderation, a cheat day every once in a while is a good thing.

Fatty Me already wants more. (Fatty Me is a selfish asshole, in case you haven't noticed.)

Thankfully the nearest place we can get the Blondie is a 45 minute drive away - keeping Fatty Me away from it shouldn't be too much of an issue. If it was just down the street, we'd be in trouble.

Maybe if I ran to the restaurant from home (31 miles) I wouldn't feel so guilty about enjoying my dessert.

.....and then maybe I can have a whole one to myself....*evil grin*







Later.