What Is Right? Cheeseburger v. Exercise

Yesterday afternoon during my daily jog around the YWCA track, I noted a considerable lack of energy emanating from my leg muscles.  It was a plodding run of under three miles, during which a multi-generational bevy of runners passed me at ever corner.  Keep going Herbach.  You can do this thing.  Etc.  

I was reminded during the run of my lunch, which was delicious.  It was a bacon cheeseburger with deep fried onions and

Cheeseburger and Sam O.'s Head

Cheeseburger and Sam O.'s Head

seasoned french fries from the Longfellow Grill.  Wonderful.  That reminded me of my book tour trip to Syracuse, NY where I ate the best cheeseburger I’ve ever eaten (at Riley’s).  During that trip, I ate cheeseburger after cheeseburger at local joints across the U.S. recommended by all sorts of out-of-shape hotel and bar workers.  This was fine eating.  I also felt physically horrible through-0ut.  My body actually grew boxy, much like Jerry Stiller’s.  I began to wear nothing but Cabana Boy Shirts and straw fedoras.  But, man, was that good eating.  I loved it.

Yesterday’s run was no good.  It was on the heals of a cheeseburger pounding.  What is right?  I love me my cheeseburgers.  I value running like an antelope and not a water buffalo.  Can there be balance or do I have to choose one life over the other?  

Deep thinking going on right now.  This Guy’s doing a little soul searching.

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