Don't Believe Anything You Read

I read this article in Fitness magazine about a chick named Julie who went from 330 to 165 pounds in a year. She started walking, eating vegetables and taking in a daily dose of meth**. She was so into the working out that she started training for a triathlon. None of this is terribly annoying, but then I read about her biggest temptation: chocolate. “I’m careful to eat it as a special treat in small portions. After I finished the triathlon, I celebrated with a single Reece’s peanut butter cup.”

Are you shitting me? A single peanut butter cup? If I just ran 20 miles, biked around the earth and swam the length of a football field, a single peanut butter cup wouldn’t even begin to cut it. I don’t even get out of bed in the morning without the incentive of caramel and nugget awaiting me in my bathroom snack pantry. Last week I took the stairs instead of the elevator up to my office and rewarded myself with a turkey. Every night I reward myself for cleaning my plate with an extra quart of ice cream. I think you get where I’m coming from.


**Meth is presumed, but I mean…come on….