Pizza Always Tastes Poisonous
Stomach is in agony.
Ate a 15″ deep pan pizza all by myself in 20 minutes.
Then some Mini Eggs.
If comfort food is meant to bring me comfort it isn’t doing a very good job.
I’ve spent the day indoors listening to the Rumours album by Fleetwood Mac.
I ran 150km or 93 miles last week. I woke up starving this morning. Stomach told my head “get all of the fucking food in now or else”. Ordered pizza online.
Every time I have pizza it tastes fucking terrible. Then there’s a lingering smell of sour cheese in the house. It’s fucking gross. I honestly need to vomit now but if I’m sick on Tottenham High Road the buses will skid and crash. If I vomit in the toilet then it will clog up the drains and……fuck I can’t even think about barfing in the sink. Major clean up operation required. Lost security deposit.
I’m not barfing. I am just sitting here on my bed listening to Rhiannon on repeat.
Best calorie approximates for today will be 4,000 calories in and 3,500 out. That’s a backward step but not a drastic one.
I have races to train for. It’s time to get back on the pony. Not a real pony. I’d kill it with my weight and then I’d probably vomit pizza down it’s back.
Julian Assange – 2017
One bad day always signalled the end for my dieting attempts in the past. I’ve been training hard and my body obviously wants something other than cheese and salad which explains the urges today.
I’ve gotta ask myself this question – did that pizza feel like a ‘reward’? To be honest the most exciting part of the pizza was ordering it. Trying to find the biggest one and thinking ‘fucking hell, this is gonna be some craic’.
The only craic will be the one planted on the fucking toilet seat for the next hour. I need to get something out of me so that I have any chance of running tonight and not shitting myself.
Please pray for my stomach and my bung hole. Tonight is going to be a long night.