Getting the cake right took 3 attempts. My first attempt didn't even require willpower. All the mixture made it to the tin. Any leftovers were scraped clean into the bin (oh I do tell I lie... I had two little munchkins at my side who licked their fair share from the beaters). But for me: no spoon licking, no taste testing, nothing.
When cake numero uno failed however my emotions rose and my willpower dropped. By the time I'd dragged two kids to the supermarket to get yet another 3 boxes of cake mix, another thing (what is the noun for...) of butter and another half a dozen eggs, I was in no state to be strong. Cake number 2 found me having a taste test and another and another and just a little bit more.
THEN, by the time cake 3 came out (and successfully turned out of the tin) I was onto the icing. Pure icing sugar, mixed with butter, vegetable shortening and green colouring. I was slurping up slops and inhaling icing. It was messy. It was ugly. It was undignified.
But I paid for it and I paid big time. Later that night I was bloated and uncomfortably hot. I was on the verge of vomiting.
I had a sugar hangover.
It was even more sickening to calculate that what I'd taken in over the prior 24 hours was a drop in the ocean compared to my life before #IQS (I quit sugar). In the past, that indulgence would have been forgotten as soon as I'd left home for the party. Pre IQS me would have continued the day with a glass or three of soft drink, sauce on my BBQ meat, a few man-sized handfuls of M&Ms, a snack size milky way and probably more than one slice of birthday cake (all of these things were on offer, but thankfully I avoided: apparently my willpower switch wasn't completely defunct).
Despite being very physically uncomfortable after my sugary binge, it was somewhat comforting to know that I have changed the make up of my body in someway. I've shifted the boundaries. I have cleansed my system. Rather than being complacent, my body now rejects sugar overloads.
|Happy Birthday Max !|