A Glutton For Football…

A gluttonous mind screw, football is . . .

Beer and pigskin. Beer and nachos. And beer.


Literally. I pooped all morning. Gas all day.


This is exactly what I wanted to stop doing. It’s why I UNJUNKED MYSELF two weeks ago. But here I am. Dealing with the morning after shame of guzzling what equates to nearly a 12 pack of brewskis – hey, those 20 ounce drafts go down smooth after the first two – and the inevitable midnight french fry tostito snacking marathon that follows. Let’s hear it for refined processed carbs!

Normally this would derail me. It would send me into a pizza laced tailspin rationalized by the “eh, I already screwed up, what’s one more day?” school of thought.  But not this time.

It’s okay if I’m not perfect.

Wait. I think I have to say it again . . . It’s okay if I’m not perfect.

Wow. That’s liberating.

Allowing yourself to be human is AWESOME.

If I don’t eat all the right things or go a bit overboard during a happy hour, it’s okay. What I have consistently drilled into my own mind is the fact that I am not dieting. I am learning a new way of healthy living. Mistakes will happen, realistic bumps in the road will happen, life will happen. And it’s all good.

Football gluttony is a part of that. And I enjoy it. DANG IT!

This is no longer a race to skinny.

It’s a life-long path to health.

Grab a beer for the ride.