Break Up Cake

Break Up Rule #37: if it's not chocolate covered, I'm not eating it!

It has been three days of torture since Jason and I broke up. I'm indulging on a calorie fest to rival that of a marathon runner. Carbs, cocktails, cupcakes --- you name it, I'm eating it! I have been left far too long to my own devices, complete with Oreos straight out of the box and Netflix on demand.

Kimberly is throwing a pity party and you are ALL invited! Luckily for everyone, my pity party involves food. And drinks. And really awesome girlfriends.

Jenn came over last night with a box of Rice Krispies, a bag of marshmallows, a stick of full fat butter, a tub of frosting, two different kinds of chocolate chips, and a box of red velvet cake mix. Red Velvet Rice Krispie treats with cream cheese frosting and chocolate chips? They are exactly what the break up doctor ordered. Get the recipe here!

If I wasn't depressed about losing my boyfriend, I'm going to be damn devastated about losing my waistline! Why do we do this to ourselves? Because the only way to climb out of the abyss is to allow yourself the time to sink all the way down into it. Deep, deep, deep down.

Bella took me out to the bar with some of my favorite ladies for a Friday night on the town. She didn't just help me over-imbibe in raspberry Cosmo's though. Oh, no! She brought out the big guns. She baked me a break up cake where she wrote in icing: "This cake won't make you watch its kid, ask you to pay its bills, lie, cheat, or invent fake security clearances." Sadly, every one of these statements eludes to a break up in the last two years. Like I always say, this blog is funny cause it's true! We borrowed five forks from the bartender and dug in. Some of us ate only the frosting. Some of us ate only the cake. And some of us ate to erase the pain of being single, yet again.

D took the evening one step further. If Cosmo's and break up cake weren't enough, she stopped at McDonald's on the drive home. We shared chicken nuggets, a large fries, and a Shamrock Shake. I have not eaten at McD's since the early 1990's, but I can tell you it tastes exactly the same after a shitty relationship ending as it did in elementary school when we got our butts kicked in the softball tournament. Basically, McDonald's tastes like being a loser feels.

And that was when the pity party ended.

I woke up the next morning, having replaced the knot in my stomach with resolution. I went quickly from nausea to determination, knowing that I could not continue on the path of self-destruction I so adamantly set upon. All my drinking, eating, and lounging clothes went straight into the hamper. I cleared the Fiona Apple off my iPod. I broke my bathroom scale out of hiding and placed it in plain sight. I threw out the few rainbow candy Chips Ahoy cookies I'd managed not to devour and replaced them with fresh fruit. I shoved the case of wine I bought back into the cabinet and stocked the fridge with fruit juice and lemon water. I wrote one word in my journal: STRONGER.

That's what I've become now. I am stronger because you all allow me to share my crazy stories with you. I am stronger because I let myself be weak, but then I forced myself to get back up after getting knocked down. I am stronger because I can face today, tomorrow, and the rest of my life knowing that I have amazing girlfriends by my side, my family supports me, and my writing keeps me motivated. I am stronger because the goals that I set for myself now are my own and no one else's and I fully intend to make those dreams come true. I am going to do something scary. Nay! Something terrifying. I am going to prove how strong I am by conquering the impossible. I am going to RUN.

Break up to 5K in 3 weeks? Ready. Set. Go!!!