Four main things bring me great mounds of happiness -- my husband, my job/boxing, my four-legged and two-legged friends, and food.
Today's source of happiness was definitely food and a certain four-legged friend.
I love my food but it took me awhile to get to this point, to see that food isn't the enemy but instead the fuel to where I'm working on taking my body and my boxing. I decided to share my love of food with some Hulkies today and so I made them some peanut butter balls -- balls mashed with peanut butter, oatmeal, protein shake and a couple other not-to-be-given away goodies. They are small balls but don't let their size fool you. You'll be smacking your lips and suffering from sticky mouth galore if you eat more than one at a time without any kind of much-needed accompanying drink, like milk.
What is that called, the slang word for when you eat too much sticky peanut butter and it totally sticks to your mouth and throat? There must be a slang word for it. I know I suffer from food coma sometimes -- the result of eating too much delish food in one sitting and being forced to do nothing but enjoy the lingering taste in your mouth (and on your fingers, maybe) and lean back to let it all digest.
And while I've noticed I've already started rambling, have you ever heard of Arachibutyrophobia? It's the fear of peanut butter sticking to the roof of your mouth. How's that a fear, I ask, that's a pleasure to me!!!
Anyways, back to my peanut balls.
I don't have a sweet tooth and I don't crave junk food, but I can and I will devour a whole loaf of bread if you don't watch me and tell me, "Step away from the bread!!!" Bread is my ultimate nemesis, it's right up there with peanut butter actually because as they say, "There's nothing a spoonful of peanut butter can't fix", and she was so true. I could eat peanut butter by the spoonfuls if I allowed myself, seriously.
Three main foods are my nemesis -- bread, peanut butter and bananas. Put them all together -- a peanut butter bread sandwich with banana slices in the middle -- and viola, you have what has come to be regarded as Canadian comfort food for me. Whenever I miss my family and friends extra much, I slap together a peanut butter banana sandwich.
I'm not an emotional eater, I'm an emotional sleep-all-day and drink ridiculous amounts of coffee kind of girl. I eat when I'm lacking something to do. And today, because I had a good chunk of time in between training our Hulkies, I started mixing things together and making random types of peanut butter balls.
Nothing says perhaps you've eaten too many peanut butter balls like puking one up during training. That's exactly what happened to me tonight. I've started to incorporate "sandbag laps", as I call it, into my training. To do one sandbag lap means to spend one full round of punching and combo throwing on each individual sandbag. We have 6 sandbags so one lap means you've done 6 rounds -- one round on each of the 6. Tonight, as I finished off my second and last lap, I noted that I didn't feel well. I had already yelled out "last round" so with some Hulkies watching me, I felt I couldn't stop. I stopped when the round bell signalled me to stop but that's when my food "started". It came up and then went down, most down my throat and some down the front of my chin and unto my tank top collar. I had definitely killed my in between round ab work, woozers.
"I think you ate too many balls", Snickers said. "Ya, thanks". Way to keep it classy Amy, real classy.
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