A groan of betrayal...

I wish I was a little more stealthy. Or, at the very least, that one of my oldest friends wouldn't be so quick with a confession of guilt.

Catlike is not an adjective that one would apply to Matthew Engelhardt. I will never be a master thief capable of pulling off spectacular heists, like the guy who stole the Mona Lisa. The reason is simple: no matter how dishonest may brain may attempt to be, my stomach has a guilt complex, and will always give me away.


Case in point: On Thursday night I was heading home from Windsor after attending a longer than expected meeting. It had been at least four hours since I'd had anything to eat... a long time for a man who snacks regularly as a means of keeping his metabolism working strong. I'd worked out hard already that day, burning over 1,000 calories through cardio in addition to however much I burned through weight training. Weigh-in had already passed, and after another successful week, I was pretty darn hungry.


Channeling a little bit of Mike Birbiglia as I continue with this story, it's important to remind you that you're on my side. I had no foul motives, just got caught in a moment of weakness. That being established, let's continue with our little tale of espionage.


It was at least a 30 mile drive home to Colchester, and I needed gas. As I pulled into a Citgo, I noticed the convenience store was still open. Quickly, I calculated my remaining points in my head, determined I had ample reason for a little bit of diet sinning, and proceeded inside. Had I not stopped for gas, I would have made the trek home without a snack. But, being that I was already here...


I headed to the cooler and grabbed a Diet Dr. Pepper. Zero calories and caffeine, just what I needed. Yet I found myself pulled in the direction of the ice cream case, and sure enough, there it was, my absolute snack weakness.

A Tollhouse Chocolate Chip Cookie Ice Cream Sandwich, and me with the gumption to find it a home. It was a match, and despite any misgivings about Weight Watchers, I made the purchase and headed home, treat and soda in hand.


I'm not going to lie: what I did to that ice cream was not pretty. I devoured it as fast as one can without getting a brainfreeze, delighting in the texture of the cookies and the creaminess of the vanilla. Then, it occurred to me: while what I did felt so good, it was a bit in line of what one would expect from the chubbier, pre-WW Matt. Now, the guilt set in, because I knew in my heart that there was one person I didn't want to discover my little act of trickery.


The problem was, I live with her. And while I lack stealth, Megan is quite the formidable detective.


I panicked, forgetting entirely about the 20 ounces of diet soda. What masks the scent of chocolate? Why, minty gum, of course, the very flavor I had in the center console. I tore open the pack, took out two pieces, and chomped away, now well towards home, where my perfect crime would never be unmasked.
I got home, tossed the treat wrapper in the dumpster, and was about to go inside the apartment when I remembered the soda. Sure, I could leave it in the car, but it's happened before when I've left Dr. Pepper in the car during a cold night and come back the next day to find frozen colaish chunks all over the upholstery. So I took it inside with me.


Megan knows me so very well, much more than anyone has gotten to know me in the past. Two clues were dead giveaways to my misdeeds. First, the soda. What kind of dope would spend $1.39 on a beverage, then forget to drink it? This guy, that's who. Second, my tendency after a long meeting and drive is usually to head straight for the freezer, where a low calorie ice cream treat is my reward. But that night, I made no beeline for a Skinny Cow; I actually said I was content just to go to bed.


She may have had enough evidence to put me on trial, but I wasn't ready to confess. Unfortunately, my dear stomach, who must feel neglected after so many months of denying it the pleasures it's come to know, became too satisfied in its glee.


Grooooooooaaaaaaaannnnnnn.......


"You stopped for ice cream!" Megan deduced. How she knows the language of my digestive system, I have no idea. I guess that when a woman lives with a man who has great fondness for Mexican food, you get accustomed to some unusual noises. But with one groan, she knew that I had not only stopped for a snack, but for ice cream. How the heck did she do that?


I made no attempt at defense. I just started laughing, and the two of us continued to chuckle for several minutes. Was she mad? No. She even admitted that I was entitled to that ice cream. Am I annoyed to have been betrayed by my gut? A little. Sweet revenge, I suppose, for a stomach that no longer gets regular trips to convenience marts.


Sorry to say, dear tummy, we're not where we want to be yet. I hope you enjoyed that ice cream, because it's back to the Weight Watchers variety until after the goal is met.


Or at least until I learn to be a little more lithe.


What else did I get at the store? Why, some STATS, naturally organic, of course.


Weeks until wedding: 25
Pounds lost in Week 24: 1.4
Total weight lost: 55.6 lbs
Percentage toward 60-pound goal: 92.6666667
Weight left to lose before hitting (initial) goal: 4.4 lbs. Getting closer, bit by bit. Did I really need that treat?
Blog followers: 42
People I know who read the blog but haven't signed up: many. And I know where you all live. (well, some of you, at least).
Number of calories in a Tollhouse cookie ice cream sandwich: 520 (23 g fat)
Number of points that equals in WW terms: about 11
Amount of time on arc trainer it takes me to burn 520 calories: about 20 minutes