Aftermath

I gained four pounds in three days.  One of those days was Thanksgiving, but still.  Four pounds.  Maybe this doesn't sound horrific to you, but do the math.  If I gained at that rate for a year, I'd weigh over 600 pounds.  What, one asks oneself, is in Thanksgiving food that makes it so hideously fattening.  I gorged myself on Halloween candy, which is pretty much solid sugar fortified with artificial coloring and flavoring, without, as far as I can tell, gaining an ounce.  But one meal of nutritious, low-calorie turkey and cranberry sauce (rich in antioxidants) and I'm four pounds to the plus.  (This is the equivalent of 16 quarter-pounders.)  According to the Calorie Control Council - there really is such a thing, I'm not making this up - the typical Thanksgiving meal is 4,500 calories.   This is about twice as much as the recommended amount for an entire day.

What makes it so disheartening is that over the Thanksgiving break, I worked out like a dog.  Specifically, I rolled around on the front lawn, then spent the rest of the day lying on the floor in front of the sofa.  Before going to bed, I walked around in a circle three times.

And yet, in spite of this extra activity, there are four more pounds of Man Martin than there were on the planet just a few short days ago.  But I'm not giving up, by golly!  I went to the gym Saturday and did a full workout.  I was ready, I'm primed, and I'm determined.

Then when I came home from the gym I saw a bag of caramel corn on the back stoop.  Vaguely, I remembered ordering it from a boy scout last month in a spirit of ill-advised charity.  What the heck.  I'll eat it, and then I'll start on my diet.  The label says it's a hundred calories per serving and there's ten servings in the bag. I'd have to eat three and a half bags to equal one Thanksgiving dinner.