The Christmas Glutton . . .

I am cognizant of what happened. I do not wish a repeat of last year. The season of merriment is upon me, with everyone I encounter shouting “be of good cheer.”

Up until last year, the holiday season held a special relevance. It was during this time of the year, when I could abate my restrictive eating habits. Each season, the cooking duties fell upon me, and since I was the chef, I could nibble as I prepared the meal, ensuring that I satiated my appetite. 
 

What then is the source of my great consternation, which makes me apprehensive on such a festive occasion? 
 

Let me take you back to last year. My eldest daughter decided that Christmas dinner would be held at her house. It was a pleasant surprise or so I thought. I was ecstatic that for once I did not have to deal with the myriad of activities, one must undertake in order to prepare the holiday banquet. 
 

My daughter on the other hand was a bundle of nerves. It was her inaugural dinner. She deluged me with questions on how to prepare all of my favorite dishes. Her overwhelming thought, it was going to be a total disaster. No matter how hard I try to alleviate her fears, the persistent, and pervading dread, simply would not go away. 
 

Dinner at my home was served at 6pm. However, my daughter had different plans. She insisted on serving breakfast. Followed by an early feast around 2pm. This was definitely new for me. My daily ritual consisted of having a protein shake first thing in the morning.  
 

We arrived at her house at 9am. Since I had forgone my normal daily liquid intake, I was beset by hunger. I ate a hearty breakfast. I was surprised by my voracious appetite. I was seated on the couch while I ate, totally engrossed in the movie “Home Team.” 
 

2pm was upon me before I knew it. My daughter had laid out a fabulous spread. All of my favorite victuals, coupled with a few of her own was a site to behold. She made me a plate filled with oversized portions. 
 

Unfortunately, I ate it all.  
 

You might have thought watching me devoured the food that I hadn’t eaten in weeks or feared it would be taken away from me.  

I was accustomed to measuring my portions. My meals were strategically spaced out. I ate to either fuel a workout, or to recover from one. Eating for the sake of eating was abnormal. I conditioned myself to control what and how much I ingested at every meal. 

Perhaps it was the merriment of the season. It could have also been wanting to please my daughter. As I mentioned earlier it was inaugural attempt in preparing Christmas dinner. 
 

What it ended up being was nothing short of . . . 

B.M.Booth (NASM-CPT) 

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