Fragile Constitution of a Former Fat Guy

During Destination 195 Jaron structured my diet program to have one "reward" meal each week. A meal that could have 500 additional calories to the 500-600 allotted. Over the seventeen weeks of the challenge, I only took one higher calorie dinner, but it was not a reward. The family attended a house party where the only food offerings made dive bar food look nutritious. The reward concept actually concerned me during the challenge because untethering myself from high calorie albatross would proved to be far greater of an advisory than any workout Jaron lined out for me. Not to mention the mental defragging required to end the ole pantry grazing ritual, passing the evening hours one bite size at a time. Daddy daycare can require a great deal of comfort food! So it was not until the goal weight had been reached that I dared to celebrate with a reward meal... Not a wise move after four months of eating healthy.

The wife and I decided to take the kids to a wonderful outdoor Christmas pageant in our old neighborhood. Even though Las Vegas is one massive suburban orb with a vein of Sodom and Gomorrah running through the middle, we Lost Vegans are slaves to convenience. Heck, the valley is only 40 miles tip to stern, but traveling to the south side is likened to taking a trip to California. We were not about to squander our mini-Griswold staycation; off to our favorite pizza haunt, Nikki Lee's. Two pieces of greasy cheese pie and two colon killing loaded potato skins later, this former fat guy entered a confused state of nirvana and irritable bowel remorse.

After downloading the weeks results with Jaron, I mentioned in passing the "bastard on Father's Day" paradox from the recent reward meal. His all to experienced wisdom (via text message) gave me wonderful perspective:

Me: I had my first real reward meal. Nearly puked... Certain things need to stay in the past.
Jaron: Amen. Still love me some greasy pizza thought!
Me: 2 pieces of pizza and 2 potato skins... Nearly lost it on the ride home.
Jaron: Your constitution can't handle the fat.

My brother from another mother could not be any closer to the truth! My dietary constitution is as fragile as a having an AA convention in Las Vegas on "open bar night." No one likes a quitter.