Several people have said, lately, that since I go to the gym almost every day and dancing at least a couple times a month, I must be "able to eat anything I want". This is not exactly true.
It does mean, however, that if I want a Big Mac, I can say, "Well, shoot! I haven't had one of those in a good 3 years. And I don't want fries. And I'll wash it all down with a diet soda or some unsweetened tea. And all I had for breakfast was a yogurt. And I'm on my way to spinning class, which I know is going to burn 500 calories or so. What the heck?!"
If you eat a Big Mac in the parking lot at the gym, and then 10 minutes later you are in class with Scottie, whose idea of instruction is to SHOUT AT YOU TO GO FASTER! DON'T SLOW DOWN! DON'T SLACK OFF! WE ARE IN A RACE! DON'T LET THEM BEAT YOU! RAAAAAA! for 45 minutes, you will spend the entire class feeling like you are going to puke.
Like, maybe, puking is a GREAT idea. Like getting rid of that Big Mac by any means necessary would make the whole ride a lot easier. And like the people in the class would see you puke all over yourself and cheer, while Scottie yelled, "YEAH! PUSH THROUGH IT! FEEL THOSE HAMSTRINGS! GO NOW! RAAAAAA!"
I just got home. I am sipping on the remains of my diet Coke---it stayed ice cold, in the car. I think I will never eat a Big Mac again.
Don't get me wrong, though. I think Scottie is awesome.