Today my workplace held our annual "Say it with Sweets" extravaganza. Basically, all the parents bring in a couple dozen cookies or brownies or cupcakes or some sort of holiday baked good and they arrange it all on buffet tables [LOTS of buffet tables], give each employee a large pastry box and beg us to fill them up.

Considering that my relationship with food in general and baked goods in particular is complicated, this is not a good thing for me. Last year I called in sick on "Say it with Sweets" day simply to avoid getting anywhere near that much sugar. This year . . . calling in sick wasn't an option. Would that it had been. Or that I were the sort of person who could just ignore the event. But I'm not. I filled a pastry box and it sat on my desk smelling delightful.

Long story short, after indulging more than I should have, I taped the damn box shut and gave it to my coworker [to add to her overflowing box]. Then I went and worked out.

Where I though about how lucky I am. I remembered how in my early 20's I would get completely winded walking from Ashland to Damen. How it felt like it was SO far. My daily companions were sugar wafers and Mountain Dew. Now I get cranky that I've lost my top-end speed so on my 50 -80 mile Saturday morning ride its way harder to keep up with the fast racers. My life is GREAT.

Thank god I got rid of that box -o- evil.