Weekends Are Difficult For Eating Right

My kids came over on Friday night and I’d been thinking all afternoon after running.  What had I been thinking about?  EZ CHEEZ.  

 

Asshole EZ Cheez

Asshole EZ Cheez

Me and my boy ate the whole can load.  I ate tw0-thirds of it EZ.  I woke up with a hangover.  From EZ Cheez.  I am a sucker and a dipshit.

The afternoon was quite fun.  We hit the Water Park OF AMERICA!  And slid around and rafted and floated and ate and got shot out of water tubes.  Good times.

 

Herbach Warms As Kids Ready To Jump

Herbach Warms As Kids Ready To Jump

Had I not eaten pizza, steak, quesadillas, soup, salad, omelets, sausage, bacon, potatoes, and a glass of wine, I would feel great about the weekend.  Superb.  But I ate too damn much to feel superb about anything.  Then, this afternoon, I ran four miles in 37 minutes.  That’s a nice slow pace that didn’t hurt anything and I felt good, but there was macaroni and cheese left over from my kids, so I made some chili and mixed it with macaroni and cheese and made chili mac.

 

Watching Playoffs Downing Chili Mac, Fat Ass.

Watching Playoffs Downing Chili Mac, Fat Ass.

I am being both really healthy and really not healthy all at the same time.  What the hell does it all mean?

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