Afterwards I'm having a reward.
What is it, you ask?
I'm going to eat like a pig.
You see, on this run - this 13.1 mile jog I'm doing - I'm going to burn approximately 1800 calories. Combine that with the 1500 or so my body usually burns in a day, and you have a fuckton of calories to use up.
Some of those will go toward a pre-race snack, and some will surely be used up by Chocolate Milk (the GREATEST post-race beverage ever), but the rest? The rest I plan on using up eating greasy, nasty food.
Not nasty in taste or appearance - I don't swing that way - just nasty in the sense that I enjoy it and it's so bad for me. Those of you in the big city, with access to fine dining and gourmet chefs, are going to laugh at my next statement.
I'm going to Applebee's.
There's one in Courtenay (where the race is held), so after I've stretched, cleaned up, and changed, we are heading over there so I can eat my favorite burger on their menu: The Philly Cheesesteak.
|Heaven on a plate.|
Afterwards, I'm going to have this: The Maple Blondie.
|Sex on a sizzling platter.|
There might even be beer involved - I'm not sure.
The biggest reward is going to be actually finishing the race, and knowing that the months of training have worked.
But this? This is going to taste good.
I also consider this Fatty-Me's reward for actually giving up and letting me get back in shape - the chubby bastard needs some recognition for all the work I've done to get rid of him.
I hope he enjoys it - it'll be his last for a long while.