The Sweet Taste of Food

The Boy and I were at his "summer home" this past weekend, and as usual, he made me do some form of physical exercise, usually running laps at a track. I normally whine and bargain with the Boy until we come to an agreement about the number of laps we're going to run. I never actually end up running the number of laps we agree upon, because I'm too freaking tired to finish, but the Boy keeps pushing me along, yelling at me while he's running behind me.

This weekend, we did the normal bitch and moan process (okay, just me) and came upon the agreement of 10 laps and if I had it in me, I'd go for 12 (yes, the Boy is crazy). It's 11:00 a.m., the sun was out in full force, I had my iPod on, there's a cool breeze, I was set for running. I did the first 5 laps with no problems whatsoever--no cramps, no shortness of breath, no loss of energy. The 7th and 8th laps took a bit more energy, but I still felt strong and actually believed I could probably match the Boy's 12 laps. Lap 9, however, started to completely drain me of my energy. There was a cramp in my side, I was huffing and puffing, and my head was beginning to hurt. I think the heat from the sun was beginning to get at me. I kept looking behind me and saw that the Boy was closing in on the half-track distance we had between us. And plus, I felt like puking up the banana nut muffin I had for breakfast. But damnit, I was determined to finish my 10 laps, puking or not.

I finished my 10 laps without losing my breakfast and just walked the track while the Boy continued on with his two extra laps. The Boy was proud that I didn't whine about running my last two laps and that he didn't have to become drill sargeant on me. He was also happy that I kept saying that I still felt like puking. Sick, isn't he?

Well, after we finished cooling down, showering and getting dressed (2 hours after finishing our run), I still didn't have an appetite for lunch. We went to Chili's anyway, because you know, the Boy has to eat too, and I ordered something small (chicken crispers) and mostly picked at the chicken, ate half the fries, and finished the corn on the cob. The Boy actually finished the rest of my food in addition to his. And I was completely upset that I couldn't eat. I vowed never to eat food again because it made me sick, and that I would definitely not run again either.

So then about 8pm that same day, approximately 6 hours after our Chili's meal, I finally lost the feeling of stomach upset and got my appetite back. And that's exactly what I told the Boy during the middle of "Big Momma's House 2".

Me: I'm hungry.

BF: I thought you weren't eating anymore. I thought I ruined your appetite.

Me: I thought so too, but I guess it was only a matter of time until I could eat again.

BF: Oh, brother.

Me: I was pizza, or maybe curly fries. Ohh, pizza and curly fries, yummy. And boba tea!

BF: My goodness, she's worse than ever!

So we went out and got a pizza, chicken wings and boba tea. It was such a satisfying feeling to be able to enjoy the taste of pizza and wings without gagging. And then to be able to eat more than a bite. And top it all off drinking/chewing boba tea.

Yummy.