Yes, I did just mention the summer-long quest to find the perfect fried clam strips yesterday. It's not like I have been in denial or anything, more like the Scarlett O'Hara approach, as in I'll think about it tomorrow. And that's been working out until this morning when I noticed that I have the chub face in every single photo. I gain weight in my face almost immediately. Great.
So what's the deal? Eating like the newly in love. My body insulating against the frigid weather. Stress eating. Abundance of craft beer. Too many trips to the North End.
Does it really matter?
Yes, it does.
So I came home from the clam shack and walked 3 miles. Walked 3 more this morning. Might hit it again later with Little Guy. Up the veggies and fruit. More water. Less Smuttynose Ale. Maybe even skip the onion rings at the clam shack. No dessert.
Which really stinks because they have some damn good homemade ice cream up here.
No comments:
Post a Comment