Jul 02, 2015
And how to avoid it.
You try. You try all winter to prepare for summer. You drink your green smoothies, you sweat it out in hot yoga, you give Flywheel a small piece of your soul twice a week; but for some reason, when the BBQ comes out during summer holidays, all bets are off. Suddenly, and involuntarily, you’re eyeballs deep in a half rack of ribs, using the person closest to you as a human napkin. Before you can utter the word, “Independence”, you’re covered in shreds of pulled pork and God knows what’s in that sauce. You’re left flustered, but craving something else. All of a sudden, a crisp, cold beer sounds appetizing. Or, even better, a salt rimmed glass filled with tequila and sugar beckoning you like a groupie to Steven Tyler. All of a sudden, Soul Cycle and Pure Barre are a distant, unitard filled memory- and you’ve just spotted the red, white, and blue celebratory cake. Because, America.
We’re not going to tell you not to indulge. Because let’s face it. Forbidden fruit, (and by fruit, we mean cake), is so much sweeter anyway. Instead we’re going to offer some suggestions, to offset the inevitable sugary, slip and slide of emotions, bloating, and potentially regret.
- Try a little bit of everything you love, instead of taking equally large portions. Yes, that means a thin slice of cake, your favorite slider, (sans bun), and maybe, just maybe, a scoop of the potato salad you’ve only lusted after.
- Wait before going back for seconds. We all know it takes awhile for your brain and stomach to catch up to one another. What you want in the heat of a moment seldom resonates the same way hours, or days later.
- Spend the next day drinking like a fish. Water. We mean water. Drink, all the water.
- Instead of sitting on the beach the next day, sprawled out like Moby Dick on downers, get moving!
Alternate 60 seconds jumping rope with a few burpees thrown in for good measure. Take a short jog along the boardwalk.
- Enjoy your weekend, but remember life begins again on Monday.
Don’t be a sad James Van Der Beek.
P.S.- For the love of God, stay away from anything remotely resembling a hot dog.