"dost thou think, because thou art virtuous, there will be no more cakes and ale?"
-Sir Toby Belch, Twelfth Night
I am envisioning my dinner tonight. 9 pm, after I close, I will ride my bike to the base of The Manhattan Bridge and go into The Great N.Y. Noodle Town and order crispy pork noodle soup with dumplings. And chilies... lots of chilies.
Maybe I will take that to-go and eat it on the bridge. Chopsticks fishing in and out of a somewhat, refreshingly, greasy quart container searching for noodles and wontons. The hot, steamy, chugalug of rich bone broth as I drink the last remaining gulps of nectar. Then back on my bike and off I go. Or maybe, instead, I will sit inside and enjoy my bowl with some green tea and order some greens on the side. Or some clams with black bean sauce. I love clams with black bean sauce. Silken fermented black beans, pungent garlic, ginger, chilies, scallions and soy. What's not to love?
On Sunday I am going to Frannys as, either, a celebratory dinner for running 9 miles Sunday morning or to hate feed for NOT being able to run 9 miles Sunday morning. Either way there will be some cured meats, pizza and a gazillion little bites and nibbles. And a salad. Tomorrow I have no food plans. I also have no yogurt and no fruit to make my smoothie. Tomorrow may take some improvising.
I wouldn't say I only run in order to eat, but it would be a HUGE lie to say that it's not a big part of it. I love to eat. I love eating with friends and family and I love eating alone. Hell, I love eating with complete strangers. Eating, much like running, consumes you when you are in the midst of it. You can not escape pain when you run. You can't really escape nature when you eat.
I eat like a wolf. It's disgusting. I gnaw, chew, gulp, gnash and there is usually a good amount of shrapnel everywhere when i'm done. It's a battle for me really. I want to get to the marrow of my meal. I want to get dirty. If i'm not wearing it, it ain't worth it.
It's hard to find a balance. I want to have a healthier diet, but at the same time I would like to enjoy my life. Eating, celebrating, communing with others over a feast! It's all part of what makes life life. Cooking a meat, or vegetable, over (or in) wood coals brings you right back to something that is hardwired in your evalutionary makeup. Clinking glasses and exchanging drunken oaths of eternal friendship and love is not altogether a wasted gesture. We mean what we say, often more so, when we are stuffing our faces and crushing drinks. We are at our most content, why would what we say be false? Oath away and make promises that no mortal could possibly keep. Just do it less often. I mean, lets not kill ourselves here.
So I guess what I am saying is this; If I need to run and bike to treat myself once or twice a week I think it well worth it. It will make 185 lbs (goal weight) harder to achieve for sure, but I got to feed the monkey.
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