Tuesday, December 13, 2011

Man vs. Junk Food Round 3/ Big Mac Attacked!

Attacked by a Big Mac

I should have known when I picked up my Big Mac and the person handing it to me said it was America's Number 1 sandwich and then laughed.... that I was in trouble. I should have stopped at that point and thought things through. But no, I proceeded on. SUV smelling like the back end of some run down hamburger stand. Still, the anticipation of just what might happen was way too inviting. All the way home as the windows fogged up with that greasy aroma, all that a Big Mac is, I knew before me was a short run with several pre-determined stops if necessary.

Home at last, I opened the box and took that first bite of that hot juicy glob of stuff. It almost didn't go down. Later I would find out that it also won't come up. I sat there and tried as hard as I could to get it down. It reminded me of the show Fear Factor where the contestants eat just about everything imaginable. But wait, wasn't this America's Number 1 sandwich? So down it went.

On with the running clothes. The sodium from my friend the Big Mac already visible on my lips after just getting dressed. I started the run, in the rain as well, with some doubt that I would get through the short 7 mile run. After about a half mile, the gastro concert began. First just the woodwind section. Soft and subtle. But still there. After a mile, the brass started into the mix. Certain flavors of my Big Mac were revisiting my mouth area. Things were getting a bit more nvolved now. Pace slowed and cramping of the stomach let me know that the percussion section wasn't far behind. (No pun intended.)

Then it hit with a fury. Miles 4-7 were cascading into a sodium body freeze. Legs grew heavy. Energy hit rock bottom. (Again no pun intended.) The run was in trouble. The stomach at this point sounded like a very large marching band. Thinks were moving in ways that I didn't know they could. I was focused on getting home. My pace grew faster somehow. Perhaps my body knew it must get to the homefront. Fast!

With one last burst of energy I could see the lights of home! They key in the door. Then "BOOM" the cymbals crashed into a loud crescendo and...........

May your adventures on the roads, trails, pools and lakes be happy and safe and bring you peace!

1 comment:

Andy Woolard said...

awesome. literary genius combined with athletic stupidity. a perfect mix.