Bless Me Father
posted in General, Warts And All |For I have binged.
That’s the polite word for it. I think the technical term is “gorged”.
I promised people when I did the interview with Steve Doyle of the Huntsville Times that I’d be honest on my website, that I’d report the good, the bad, and the ugly. Warts and all, etc. I made the same promise here on my site. And I intend to keep that promise. It’s not going to be fun, and it’s not going be pleasant. But here goes. If you have a weak stomach, or are easily disillusioned, I strongly advise you to not finish this post. Stop reading right here. You’ll be glad you did.
As you may have gathered from a previous post or two, I like food. A lot. In big quantities. And it seems the worse it is for you, the more I like it. Anyway, the trouble started on Thursday. If you’re following along at home, you know that I’d been doing pretty well for a few days-I’d gone three days without pop, and two days without any sweets or caffeine. So I was feeling pretty good when I got up on Thursday. I’m kind of a night owl (which I’m also trying to change) and so I got up around noon. I checked my email, checked Drudge, a few online newspapers, and several blogs from fellow fat fighters. Then I fed and watered the goats, birds, and dogs. By then it was around 1:30 in the afternoon. I headed into Fayetteville to send a package. After I was done at the post office, I realized I was starving, and I hadn’t eaten since about 7pm the night before. So I headed over to Trotter’s, which is an all you can eat place at a local hotel. I know these kinds of places can be dangerous, but I’d eaten there the day before and had done fine. And they actually have some pretty good food-lots of vegetables, baked chicken, etc. And I can usually pick up a free USA Today there and read it while I eat. But when I got there, they were closing down their lunch, as it was well past 2.
Looking back, I should’ve gone home, made a salad, or a baked potato, baked a chicken breast, etc. My friends who’ve done Alcoholics Anonymous tell me that they have an acronym, HALT, that helps keep them on the wagon. It means never let yourself get too hungry, angry, lonely, or tired. And it’s good advice for people trying to eat healthier, too. I should’ve taken the advice, and eaten before I ever headed into Fayetteville. Then, once I realized I was ravenous, and Trotter’s wasn’t an option, I should’ve gone home and eaten before I did anything else. But I didn’t. I had to go to Huntsville to get more unpasteurized fresh squeezed orange juice at Fresh Market, and hand made whole grain bread at Garden Cove, and I just headed straight down there. One more thing you should know, which might help explain what follows, is that until Thursday I’d been smoking, but was now wearing my nicotine patch and trying to abstain. It doesn’t excuse what I did, but it might make it more understandable.
First stop in Huntsville was Foods For Life, a big health food store just off the Parkway. I asked them if they had any natural products to reduce cigarette cravings. They recommended some homeopathic tablets, so I bought them, and grabbed a loaf of whole wheat bread from a natural bakery that supplies FFL. Standing in line to pay, I noticed that just like grocery stores, FFL puts sweets right there at the checkout to be bought on impulse. And it works. I bought a big “all natural” chocolate chip cookie from Alternative Baking Company, which makes vegan products. For a cookie with no eggs, no milk, and no trans fats, it was surprisingly good. Delicious, in fact. I ate it before I left the parking lot, and at 500 some calories it really calmed my stomach down. Then I headed over to Garden Cove, a very popular Huntsville health food store run by Seventh Day Adventists, and picked up a couple more loaves of different natural breads to put in my freezer.
Here’s where I blew it. I should’ve just gone to Fresh Market, got my OJ, and headed home. The cookie would’ve held me over til then. But I wanted to go to the bookstore, too, and so I rationalized that I’d better get something to eat. I was going to go to Barnhill’s, another all you can eat place, but by this time it was around 5, and the place was packed. So I went to Schlotzky’s, a chain that sells sourdough muffaletta sandwiches. And I got the Original, large, with extra meat. Which is $9. I think $9 a gallon for fresh squeezed orange juice that lasts me a week is outrageous, but I’ll drop $9 on an edible heart attack that’s gone in 15 minutes without blinking. Go figure. It’s fat guy logic. And I got the sweet tea, too. Then, since it was cold enough that I could leave the oj in my truck, I picked it up, and then headed for the Barnes and Noble for a couple of hours. Around 8 I headed home, and I really, really wanted a Pepsi. So I stopped and got a 1-liter bottle and took it home. I was up all night, and at around 2am I began getting hungry again, so I drove into Fayetteville and got a couple of Krystal Black Angus cheeseburgers. Which was totally unnecessary, as there’s plenty of food in the house, and I really should’ve been in bed. So that’s how my Thursday went.
And then Friday was the bad day.
I’d stayed up till around 10am, and woke up Friday evening at about 6pm. Extremely hungry, of course. And feeling guilty over what happened Thursday, I was bummed out. And I decided that it’s time to get serious, to really crack the whip and start eating right from this point forward and never look back. I felt much better about things after my decision.
And a half hour later I was in my truck on my way to get some fast food.
Well, I told myself that Whitt’s Barbecue isn’t really fast food, and that since I was going to be up all night, I could grab some of their beef, potato salad and baked beans, and I could just bring them home and make a couple meals out of them. But Whitt’s wasn’t open.
But Hardee’s was.
I’d been hearing their commercials on the radio for their 1/3 pound Chili burger, and I’d figured (using my powers of fat guy logic) that after last night a little more couldn’t do any harm. So I got the combo, with the extra large fries, and what appeared to be about two gallons of Coke with no ice. And boy was it good. So good, in fact, that I went back and ordered a 1/3 pound Mushroom Swiss burger. It was even better.
Then, as I was leaving, I saw that they have two quarter pounders with special sauce (Big Mac ripoffs) for three dollars. And I thought to myself, ya know, I’m going to be up all night anyway, and if I get a couple of those, I can eat them later and I won’t have to cook anything. So I went back to the counter and got two of them to go.
Of course, they were both long gone by the time I got home.
Over a pound of greasy hamburger, loads of cheese, salt, french fries, and sugar, all in the space of an hour.
I warned you. I told you to stop reading. But you wouldn’t listen, would you? Maybe next time you will.
Anyway, that’s a little glimpse into what it’s like to be me.
And, yes, I’m discouraged and disgusted with myself. Two steps forward, and three miles back.
But I’m not quitting. That’s why I started this website. Not just to crack a few jokes. But to force myself to deal with my lack of self discipline, my food addiction, and several other unhealthy behaviors. Let the world know. They say sunlight is the best disinfectant. Hopefully, it’s the best appetite suppressant, too. We’ll see. And I’m thinking that maybe I should start eating at home before I head into town. What do you think?
Sorry, no jokes today.
