It’s tough being a fat kid. By that I mean if I actually ate the Prawns in creme served on a ginormous home made crouton pictured above, I’d have gained three pounds. I’m not talking about three pounds of bloated water weight that will go away before I even get on the plane to come home, I mean three pounds that stay with me until I’m done walking the earth. OR I’ll need to push the prowler for a mile or two, daily, to work it off. The above dish was for one of our coaches who was gearing up for his next powerlifting meet and needed to gain weight. Boys suck.
I’ve been resigned to the fact that I’m an easy gainer for a while now. It’s how I’m built. It’s also extremely difficult for me to take weight off so letting things go for a week or two isn’t an option. ADD in the fact that we travel each month and have opportunities to enjoy very good food all over the country and it’s a recipe for my waistline disaster.
It’s not fair. I train hard. I’m consistent with conditioning. I push my prowler in addition to other conditioning and I still can’t eat like a fat kid wants. I want bread. I want sugar. I want JUST ONE of these amazing bars a friend (who only lives a few blocks away) just made:
But I can’t. Nor can we (Bigg and I) bring home a tub of mouthwatering homemade strawberry sauce to put on ice cream we had at another friend’s house last weekend. (Poor Bigg.) Because what happens is that exposure to unadulterated sugar sets something off in my head. I start to negotiate with myself that “just a bite” is all I need. Suddenly, “just a bite” turns into “just one.” See the pattern?
I’ve trained and coached other fat kids. They come in all forms. Twenty something men who think because they train, they can eat anything they want. Dude! You’re a fat kid, cut it out with the carbs. And the group I most feel sorry for, women who want to eat like a fat kid and later complain that their training isn’t working. I’ve had to fire a couple of those women and it broke my heart. But if you’re not willing to try outside of the gym, I’m not going to listen to you blame me for my part not working.
Some of us are just built that way. It sucks. But it’s fact so we need to deal. Will I turn my back on those delicious bars every time? Nope. But I can recognize when my carb intake starts to get into the danger zone and dialing it in again will help. So this isn’t my week for bars; or more strawberry sauce; or more english muffins with my eggs; or…well you get the picture. Today is protein; and more protein; and some scrumptious fat; and then more protein. And I’ll hope *COUGHMO* that those bars, or others like them, are made again when I’m more dialed in so I CAN have one.
To me, life without veal stock, pork fat, sausage, organ meat, demi-glace, or even stinky cheese is a life not worth living.