Today finds me eating strawberries while imagining whipcream. (Note: successful dieting is entirely dependent on a good imagination and a terrible memory) Mournfully, these sweet little berries cry out in their solitary state. Orphaned. Bereft of companionship. Culinary martial law has been declared until I loose a few pounds.
I spent my morning on the elliptical trainer, trying to outrun those persistent calories. I ran with dogged determination (dogged...what a crazy word...my dogs only work that hard @ napping!) Calories are tenacious things with a stubborn bent for being stored. They have great stamina and cling to this single-minded purpose for all they are worth. Lurking in the shadows ready to overtake devoted foodies on their way to excellent discovery. They pursue; therefore, I run.
It's my habit to muse, as I run. Musing is a fabulous distraction that spares me from hearing all the unspeakable messages my muscles are screaming at me(currently, they are mocking me in tandem). Bravely, I muse on, "Has anyone seen my endorphins? They seem to be MIA". I conjure up a picture of my renegade endorphins taking over some unsuspecting passerby and propelling her wildly into a frenetic fast forward...at least, someone has use of them. This weak attempt at comedy affords me a chuckle. I wonder if laughter burns calories...hmmmm. In a fit of hysteria, you could easily burn 100's of calories. It occurs to me that the only thing standing between rubenesque and reasonable is a comedy marathon. I love this kind of science!
Propelled by the jet fuel that is laughter, I will advance science while I run to outer Mongolia and back.
Friday, May 8, 2009
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)