Three strikes and you’re out, Mr. Trunk Corner. Having cut my knee for the third time on the savage corner of this Arabian trunk – my family bought it in a souk in Jeddah when we lived there when I was 12 – I have decided enough’s enough: The hammer’s coming out and I’m going to bang that corner until it’s as blunt as a well-worn pencil nib; these legs are scarred enough from years of adventuring in the Sierra Nevadas, namely scaling the boulders in our backyard in Lake Tahoe. Usually, I just shrug it off and let the cut do it’s thang, but today I was in a rush to eat breakfast and get to class, so I slapped on a band-aid, hurriedly poured myself a bowl of cereal, and trotted off like a disheveled school girl.
After class, my friend and I went for a 7-mile run along the river, followed by abs and stretching on the intramural field. Stuck in conversation, she and I decided to forgo having lunch at our homes in favor of treating ourselves to a little something at Holy Cow, a vegetarian café in the student union building on campus. Instead of eating inside, we took our salads and sandwiches (in my case, a wrap) to the park, where we sat in the shade nattering, munching, nattering, munching. By mid-afternoon, we were beginning to feel itchy from the dried post-workout sweat, so we parted: I headed home to shower – in cold water because I was getting so hot and bothered in the sun – and I expect she did the same.
With lunch verging on the lighter side, I was more than ready for a snack by the time I returned from my afternoon lecture, so I chose to have some Greek yogurt accompanied by a crumbled up homemade powerbar and toasted walnuts:
Post-work at the school newsroom, I headed home via the Post Office – my lovely mum mailed a fantastic early graduation gift – to make dinner. For dinner, I was craving pasta – running does that to me – so pasta it was:
Question: Do you butter your pasta before topping it with sauce?
Before plating, I took the butter out the fridge with the intention of adding a knob to the rotini, but in the end I opted against the addition, deeming it superfluous. As a child, I loved butter – I was occasionally caught with the whole stick in my mouth – and didn’t think twice about its nutritional value (or lack thereof), but now that I’m well versed on nutrition, I have become increasingly averse to adding it to my meals. By no means have I cut butter out completely – you better believe buttered toast and buttered rice are staples in my diet – but I am more conscious of how much I use it, especially when it comes to using it as a condiment. Part of me thinks I think too much about ingredients, but the other part rests peacefully knowing that my body is irrefutably getting enough fat – predominantly through nuts, avocado, and cheese – to worry that I’m just being disordered. Would my pasta have tasted better buttered? Probably. Would I be a little fatter because of the added fat? No. Will I add butter next time? It depends: I appreciate mixing butter into pasta when it is being served sauce-less and just with cheese, but experience has taught me that adding butter to pasta that is also topped with a creamy sauce can be overkill. What do you think?
Butter aside, I finished off the day with a glass of ice-cold milk – milk any degree warmer than freezing cold makes my tummy turn – and a cupcake while watching Life of Pi (word of advice: read the book first). Exhausted, it mustn’t have been more than two minutes after I licked the last crumb off the cupcake wrapper that I decided it was time for bed. Usually, I’m not partial to going to bed on a full stomach, but some nights I just can’t help it. The upside to going to sleep having just eaten is that I get to experience some crazy dreams.
How much time do you typically leave between your last meal/ snack and bed?
Do you feel uncomfortable going to bed with a full stomach, or do you sleep better with a belly full of food?