Posted in Food, Memories, Running on January 25, 2007|
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Easily the most humiliating time of year for grade school Christine was Presidential Fitness time. The athletic children lived for these prestigious awards, you couldn’t wipe the smiles off of their faces as they anticipated receiving their… What did they receive? Ribbons? Trophies? Pizza party? I certainly wouldn’t know.
Now, I did all right with the sit & reach, I came in somewhere around average. The mile run, on the other hand, was a different sort of hell – the evilest sort of torture I could think of. My friend Andrew and I would run together at the end of the pack, both of us self-consciously sweating and panting and going at about an 18 minute pace.
Every year, without fail, he would betray me by storing up energy and sprinting past me for the last 100 yards. And Andrew was a sentimental favorite in our class too, so everyone cheered him on as he crossed that finish line. I followed behind him, forgotten and in last place, full of childlike bitterness toward him, our class, and our sadistic gym teacher.
And the pull-ups? Don’t get me started. I hung lifelessly like a dead koala from that bar. Every year.
So, if I’d known 15 years ago that in my 20s I would willingly dole out over 100 dollars to run 26.2 miles past a city of onlookers, I would’ve immediately begun weeping. Nothing would’ve been less appealing.
But overcoming my childhood insecurities isn’t really the point I’m trying to make here. So I run now (it probably more accurately should be called “jogging”). Whatever. My point is that I’m hungry. And I have nothing to eat in my cube except chocolate covered espresso beans and gourmet English Toffee.
See, the annoying thing about regular physical activity is that you’re freaking starving all the time. English Toffee for sustenance? Unlikely!
Anyway, I’m meeting Lauren today for lunch at Leeann Chin’s. I’m going to gorge myself on cream cheese wontons and peking chicken.
Which, from what I’m told, is healthy.
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