Sunday (too much) Funday

I love Sundays.

I'm guessing they are pretty big fans of Sundays too.

You may know this about me.  There are a number of reasons for this, not least of which is how I get to spend a good chunk of my Sunday: with my church peeps.  This is a set of undeniably awesome people who get together to do some if not all of the following activities:

• laugh
• goof off
• sing
• hug
• play
• eat

Yesterday was unique for the latter in that it was the first Sunday of the "coffee house" series, where we gather folks in the church rectory for coffee instead of funding the chain coffee shop down the street.  This is great, because we get to do all of the aforementioned activities with free coffee and treats.  The problem, of course, is the treats part of the equation.  Sunday is often my day of rest -- well, not really, as Sundays are usually pretty busy.  Perhaps it's more accurate to says that Sunday is my day of sanctioned laziness.  And prior to Fit Anniversary, this also often meant a day of sanctioned crappy eating.  Especially because there were often free treats to be had.  I anticipated this happening, so I deployed some of my strongest pro-dieting tactics.  Number 1: make delectable treats and then give them away.  This strategy was successfully executed with a little help from some world-famous Molly Squares, recipe courtesy of the vivacious K who swore me to secrecy many years ago.  Suffice it to say: they are mind-blowingly good.  And not at all good for you.  So I delight in enjoying one and setting the rest loose on unsuspecting parishioners.  Which I did.  Win.  Number 2: busy thyself with things other than eating.  Yesterday it was also part of my job description so that was convenient.  The youth group kids and I helped some younguns decorate pumpkins.  Really, what happened is we encouraged each other and others nearby to play with glitter, stickers, feathers, pipe cleaners and pumpkins. Which kept me busy and thus also from stuffing my face.  Number 3:  talk instead of eat.  That part was easy as there were plenty of people to talk to instead of chowing down on the requisite goodies present at the coffee house.  

These strategies worked fairly well until the end of the coffee house when the summarily lovely S pawned off a whole mess of leftover food on me by activating an annoying (admittedly overactive but extremely entrenched) reflex: guilt.  

"If you don't take it, I'm just going to throw it away."
"No! ...really?"
"Oh yes, it's going in the garbage unless you want it."
"Well, 'want' is a rather strong word..."
"Ok, I'll toss it then."
"Wait!"

And that's how I came home with 10 hot dogs,  24 veggie dogs, 16 buns, a pound of macaroni salad, a package of shredded cheese, an unopened  bottle of relish, cut veggies, french onion dip, and an entire oversized bag of ruffle kettle chips.  Contrary to what the broke-as-a-joke-grad-student part of my brain might believe, food that is free of charge is not free of calories.  While, yes, I did cave and bring home a plethora of food that was not needed, I managed to confine my indulgences to veggies and dip (ok, and some chips) while watching football.  

My strategies for earlier in the day allowed me to feel slightly less guilty when we took friends who we hadn't seen since our wedding out for a truly Baltimore experience: piles of steamed crabs, hushpuppies, corn fritters and a very creamy crab pretzel shared between the four of us.  Between the beer and the Old Bay, I was certain that Monday's weigh in wasn't going to be pretty.  In fact, given my tendency to overdo things in the spirit of Sunday Funday, I was seriously contemplating moving the day of reckoning to anything OTHER than Monday.  

But my beloved J peer-pressured me into going this morning, despite numerous excuses and much whining on my part.  And the news was good! J is down 1.8 and I'm down 0.4.  We'll take it!