Why you shouldn’t let candy crucify your weight loss goals this Easter

April 13, 2017 Ashley 0 Comments

“You’d be so proud!” my co-worker, Kelsey, shouted ebulliently.

She’d just arrived to work for the afternoon shift. And she couldn’t wait to tell Elsbeth (my other fitness nut coworker) and I about the cardio and strength circuit she’d just begun. There were squats, speed ladders, lunges… We glowed like proud parents to hear it. And she looked proud, too. She was even standing a little taller. It was simply brilliant to see that look of self affirmation on her face. Especially since she’d just begun the process to quitting processed sugar (an admitted addiction of hers) a week or so ago.

But then she came to the break room – to put her purse away.

And there it was… waiting for her.

(Smirking at her, it was…)

Granted it was a well meaning patient who’d left it.

But, for us, it was more like an inimical infant left on a doorstep, by the devil himself. (In the name of one’ve the holiest of days for Jesus people, no less…) See, I myself had gone back there to reheat my own addiction (caffeine) in the microwave. And, as I turned, mug in hand, I observed a three part ensuing of simultaneous horror and entertainment. It was legit something that looked like a scene out’ve that I’m-dating-myself-with-this-reference flick, “Idle Hands”. First: Kelsey’s eyes twinkling as she basked in the basket’s wonder. A golden hue emanated up from the eggs made of chocolate and saccharine reverie, lighting up her face like a Kinkade cabin. Second: initial acquiescence to the sweets’ collective, choral level siren song. She wasn’t my dear Kelsey anymore. The confections had possessed her. She was gone. Now, her haunted eyes were all hypnotized and glazed over – just like the drizzled bunny for which she was powerlessly reaching. I knew I couldn’t stop her, so I just watched, awestruck, waiting for the inevitable and preparing a premature tombstone for her newfound fitness path of which she had been so proud.

And third?

Third came the gracious moment of clarity.

Like a lightning strike from the diet deity above, Kelsey was suddenly infused with unparalleled fortitude. Suddenly, the spell was broken. She blinked, swatted her own hand, like a Tabby cat does a counter perched Coke can, and the treats tumbled back into the basket of delicious sin and lost body goal dreams.

Now, I know what you might be thinking. You’re probably thinking what everyone who wants confirmation that their own holiday loss of willpower is okay, does. What’s so wrong with a few Cadburry eggs? Or those seemingly benign, pastel painted, double “M”, chocolate UFO’s? How about those marshmallow chicken infants? Well, once in a while, probably nothing. But, my issue (much like Kelsey’s) is that if I pick up one, I’m done for. My addictive brain craves more. Even worse? The fact that it A.) takes a lot to work off sugar earned fat, and B.) the blood sugar rise and demise results in having no energy to do the massive aforementioned workout I need to, to burn it off. Double bummer. So, it’s simpler to just nix it all from my list of possibilities. Instead, I prefer to focus on uplifting things – like energy lifting foods that taste great and don’t take as much to work off. (And that make the workout more enjoyable.)

That said, I realize this stuff’s everywhere this year.

And the power of evil is strong. Especially when Satan’s all decked out in festive eggs filled with peanut butter, or assuming the avatar of an adorable, edible bunny. Willpower won’t always be present during these dark times. And thinking positive or scrolling through fit-spiration on IG’s not always gonna get you through that. So, let’s invite a li’l bit’ve perspective into this. Just how much of a workout would Kelsey have to do to burn off the calories in those goo infused horror orbs? (Spoiler alert for the willpower free: it’s roughly the same amount you’ll hafta do, too.)

(Keeping in mind that zero point zero people ever stop at one serving of these things…)

That sounds about right. But let’s don’t forget the fact that your body tends to store processed sugar as fat, making it even harder to huff and puff it off later. (Espesh if you don’t work out soon after; it’ll use whatever your latest glucose source is first, before tapping into the Cadburry fat you’ve packed away). Also, let’s remember to tally up the servings people usually end up consuming (not these measly underestimates.) And, voila! (*Puts on accounting visor, clacks calculator keys, and prints out mile long receipt*) Your post Easter fitness bill is looking at a something in the ballpark of: a three hour run in military gear, sunup-to-sundown burpees in between, all followed up with a week of training in a sweatsuit and living off carrots like you’re prepping for a UFC showdown. Or something like that.

So, yes, Kelsey. I was already proud of you the second you strolled into that clinic, listing all the bits of your new fitness regimen. Next level proud, even. But, given the fact that I know what that wicker dwelling bouquet of caramel covered life ruiners would do to that new fitness regimen (and given how hard you’ve worked to fight your sugary addiction), I was even prouder when you walked out of that kitchenette, candy free.

So, let’s all take a tip from my coworker’s holy moment…

And resurrect our respective New Years’ health goals this Easter.