No surprise if the boy chucks me to the bin really. While he ponders his weight loss fantasies, er, strategies, all that occupied my mind was churros. I need churros in my life. The boy said today. I suggested other stuff I could dip in chocolate in the meantime, but there might be a problem biting into those things.
To the gym, bright and early. It is all about balance, the boy often preaches, and my idea of ice cream on the left hand and fries on the right hardly cuts it. Train. Train. Train. Turns out, what is insufferable becomes sufferable when you focus on churros. That’s right. Eyes on the prize.
Fast forward. Training ends and finally, FINALLY… no churros! The boy needed to work and meet people so we rushed back to Makati. One more thing to add to my lengthening chain of disappointments and regrets.
Well, not really. I ate twice-fried spicy chicken wings to make up for it. On my own. I did not even tell the boy. If I can’t satisfy my one craving, I will indulge the other. And no, don’t tell me churros and chicken wings make bad recovery food. Why else do you think I am training my ass for?