An attack on a way of life
|By JENNIFER GALLUS|
During a routine physical in which absolutely no health concerns were found or even expected, a hideous suggestion was formulated by my doctor and hit me as hard as the baseball mitt I was hit in the face with the week earlier.
Yes, a mitt was chucked during one of my son’s baseball practices and my face happened to be in its path.
Anyway, the unwanted, unwarranted, and unfounded advice was that perhaps I should cut down on my chocolate intake! The words seem to pour out of my doctor’s mouth in slow motion and suddenly I was looking at my once beloved doctor in a very dark light.
I couldn’t help but wonder where this low blow came from. Had he been secretly videotaping my daily chocolate consumption, which, by the way, amounts to maybe one or two handfuls per day just enough to keep trace amounts of chocolate in my bloodstream.
Many may not know this, but I am the happy-go-lucky personality that I am today because I have a successful working relationship with chocolate! OK, that might be a stretch, but it’s really not all that far off.
Immediately following this personal attack on my way of life, I decided to take my boys to the nearest DQ and ponder the unsolicited advice over a hot fudge sundae with peanuts.
I knew that I must have a clear mind to accurately assess this ghastly suggestion and a clear mind can only be obtained with chocolate in the system.
As I studied myself and my behaviors, I concluded that there is a direct link between my physical fitness and my chocolate consumption in the opposite way it would normally be viewed.
The more chocolate I consume, the more I run during my workout, thus the more fit I become.
As I run or jog, I think about how many calories I consumed that day and I will then run an appropriate amount to make up for it.
When I get tired near the end of my workout, I think about that handful of peanut M&M’s I had at lunch and guilt myself into running a little more.
Thoughts of guilt and listening to T-Pain’s song, “Buy you a drank,” over and over usually gets me through the last mile or so of my workout. The beat of T-Pain’s song is perfect for the tired runner.
So my twisted conclusion leads me to believe that if I didn’t eat chocolate, I probably won’t run so much and thus not be as fit. This is not to say that I couldn’t be a whole lot more fit, because I could, but I like to think of myself as a work in progress.
I’m sure my doctor didn’t think his innocent enough suggestion would be taken wildly out of context like I have managed to do.
My 6-year-old asked, “Do we have the same parts inside as chickens? Well, do we have wishbones?”