Friday Follies ~~ That eating thing

Program Notes:

Remember the Novice Mountain Bike Ride!  This coming Sunday.  That’s 20 February, at 2:00.  At the Peachtree City Baseball Soccer Complex Trail Head.  Skills to be covered:  Drop offs and track stands.

Now back to our regular programming.

The “fat gene” runs in my family.  I was a short fat kid.  Puberty plus athletics plus riding my bike (a lot) took care of that.  Between recreational riding, organized athletics, and just plain being busy, I stayed at a pretty good weight.  There was just one problem; I like to eat.  My activity level allowed me to eat pretty much anything I wanted to, in almost any quantity.  So I arrived at age 30, with habits.

I mention that age, because it is significant in my life.  I underwent a major career change.  I went inside and sat down.  The job was fascinating, absorbing, challenging, demanding, and completely sedentary.  I was mostly inactive, but I was still eating like a demon.  I blew up like a balloon.  I hit 260 pounds before I managed to stop gaining.  It was hard to come back from that.

Now days, I tend to go through an annual cycle.  During the late Fall, and Winter my activity level is lower, so I gain a bit of weight.  This falls off as the activity level increases in the Spring.  By mid-Summer, eating becomes an actual chore, and I am struggling to keep from losing more weight.  That annual cycle is limited to about a then pound fluctuation, and I intend to keep it there.

Cyclists, runners, and swimmers eat.  We have to.  Exercise calories must be replaced.

Several years ago, in the middle of a particularly long and strenuous ride, I fell behind the calorie curve.  My friend Ed and I were pushing to make a scheduled stop.  It was close to ten P.M. when we made it.  We were cold, wet, and hungry!

The waitress came to take our order.  I said,  “Let’s see.  A short stack of pancakes, three eggs scrambled, sausage, biscuits, home fries, a slice of your apple pie with ice cream, a large glass of milk, and coffee.”  She repeated that back to me and then turned to go.

“Hey!  Wait a minute.  What about me?”  Ed said.  The poor lady was a bit flustered.  She thought I’d ordered for both of us.

After a surprisingly short wait the food came.  As the nice lady was setting it down, she stopped and said,  “Oh Hon!  I’m sorry.  You wanted the home fries, and I got you grits.  I’ll take it back and fix it.”  She started to take the plate away.

I grabbed it and said,  “Oh no you don’t!  I’ll eat it!  Just bring another small plate with the fries.”

I’d almost finished before she got back with my potatoes.  She was not believing me.  “I just don’t see where you could put all that!”  she said.  Non-cyclists don’t believe it.  More, they simply cannot conceive of the amount of calories it takes to keep a working tourist out on the road.