My boss, the Fitness Nazi - he knows that's his name - is the picture definition of "Gym Rat." He eats right, most of the time, stares at his muscles in the mirror more often than he'll admit, knows what every muscle does and knows every exercise and what it works. In short, he'll kick your ass in the gym. Just for fun, he's learn jiu-jitsu. He enjoys pushing his body to its limit more than the normal person.
We both have corporate gym memberships and take advantage of it. Since he goes in the morning and I go in the morning, naturally, we just work out together and work the same muscle groups. Usually, I can keep up. Usually, he pushes me further than I would push myself but I always feel competitive - I have to be able to prove to him that I can do what I or he thinks I can't. I always try! Also, we both try to eat right - or as close to right as possible. We're both at work 10-12 hours a day and work 6 days of the week. Sometimes pizza's just convenient.
So when we had our company Thanksgiving dinner Wednesday, we were both giving ourselves cheating rights. He can eat more than I can anyway. He doesn't have to lose weight like I do. We had all that delicious food...and cake.
Oh, the cake. The cake, with it's delicious whipped topping, it's chocolate flakes on top. It was so tall and so beautiful and so...tasty! It was the most moist cake you've ever tasted. More so than your own wedding cake, I guarantee. It stood two feet tall almost! The cake was already sliced and ready to go in my mouth. The individual servings were huge! Really big enough for two or three people!
I'd already filled my plate and eaten every last bit. The dinner - all the food - it was perfect! I wanted seconds. But I wanted the cake more. It beckoned me.
"Trey," I begged, "Please bring me a piece of that big chocolate cake! I have to try that!"
My husband, who always comes to our holiday dinners along with everybody elses spouse, gladly got up and brought me a piece. He grabbed him some other dessert that I can't remember because this cake trumped his!
The size of the piece on the small Styrofoam plate alarmed me. I asked a few people to share it with me because I jut knew I wouldn't have enough room.
I was very wrong!
I took a bite. It was over. I took another bite, and another. Before I knew it, the whole piece was in my stomach. I thought surely I'd regret it later. Clint knew I felt bad. I think he did, too.
"Clint, I'm going to have to do some serious cardio after this cake!" I declared.
"We'll do some circuit training in the gym on Friday," he mentioned between bites, "gets some cardio in to get all this food off of us!"
Later came, I had another piece! I actually, kind of, sort of, verbally compared it to the act of procreating without the risk of actually reproducing to one work associate or two, or all...sorry, Mum!
When the day was over, I was glad to be away from that evil, sinful food. I felt like I had ruined my day in the gym, even though I had allowed myself this cheat!
The following day, I hadn't planned on going to the gym. I actually had to do the radio show for the dealership and just got up early as usual and piddled around the house until it was time to advertise for Tuscaloosa Hyundai. I came to work knowing that our collision center was going to have its Thanksgiving dinner and that none of that food was coming to us. Thank, God! That's why I was flabbergasted when Lori came in with what she called "a gift." Of course I knew it was leftovers! I had to go see! Who can turn down free food?
I walked over to where she stood to see the white bakery box before her. I didn't think good thoughts that my mother should read and I definitely did not resist the temptation that was in that box.
Inside was the glorious cake. Larger this time, yelling at me to indulge!
"Stephanie, do you want piece?" somebody asked. I can't tell you who it was - I was in a trance.
"Definitely!" There was no doubt I wanted more of it's goodness, despite the little angel on my shoulder whispering about the work I would have to do in the gym the next morning. There was a question of how big a piece I wanted. How big a piece? Ha!
"Why don't you just cut yourself a small piece and give me the box?" I was so greedy! And the cake was that good that I could have eaten the whole thing and never lived to regret it! Lori cut me a piece while laughing at the comment she must of thought was a joke, even though I was serious! It was the power of the cake!
Lori, that was not "a gift!"
In several swift moves, the square slab with it's delicious frosting was in my stomach. I felt peace - peace that lasted an hour until I had to have another piece. And I squeaked 'Oink'! Oh, the angel on my shoulder scolded me.
Yesterday morning, I paid my penance.
I woke up at 5:45 am, as usual. I brushed my teeth, combed out my hair, dressed warm for the cold weather. I was so sleepy. I really didn't want to go to the gym. Usually when I feel that way, I get motivated because I have the best workouts, but today, this morning, it was different. I felt like the cake had sucked out all my energy.
I was at the gym by 6:45 am. Lori was there, getting ready for work already. She was her normal chipper self, bobbing her red head around the locker room.
"We've still got some of that cake left, Stephanie!" She putting her make-up on in the mirror and I don't think she could see my reaction. I quickly put my eyes back in there socket before she looked up.
"Oh, Lori! Keep that away from me today! That cakes so good! I wish it was already gone!"
I put my gym bag up and walked out to the floor. Clint was already there and waiting. It was like the Fitness Nazi possessed him today.
"Circuit train?" he asked.
"Sure!" I said, ignorant.
He kicked my as for an hour. I'm not sure, I think we did 9 or 12 exercises in that hour. Weights, reps, all over exercises - ass-whoopin' as us Southerners put it. Despite the months of gym time I've spent with the Fitness Nazi, I was not in shape enough for Friday morning's workout.
I just remember sitting on the floor and thinking I see Jesus! No, I'm just dizzy...
When I got to work, barely able to move, I still had to deal with hearing about this cake. The cake that got my ass kicked. The cake that made me ache. The cake that had Tylenol for dessert. It wasn't just a small portion of the cake left either. It was a rather large slab in a large Tupperware bowl with aluminum foil on top. Everybody had a piece and raved about how good it was. I heard about it all day. Looked at it all day. I got so busy at work I didn't get to eat my lunch and in the meantime watched as my co-workers indulged in the sinful treat.
At 5:30, I couldn't take it anymore. There was only a small sliver left. I went to the small working fridge, took out the devil and said, "I'm taking my lunch!"
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