just say no

I made a foolish bet with a friend on Thanksgiving.  I bet against the Packers and for the Lions - being from Michigan, I want to see Detroit do well!  The wager was this:  If the Packers lost, my friend (who hates running) would have to run 5miles.  If the Lions lost, I would have to drink a liter of Mountain Dew (I don't drink soda). 

Unfortunately for me, the Lions lost.  My time to honor my commitment to drinking rocket fuel (aka Mountain Dew) came on Sunday morning.  Just as I was preparing to teach middle schoolers and high schoolers about developing a good reputation and character lessons from the book of Ruth.  Let that be a lesson to them:  don't bet against an undefeated team, especially when the team you're rooting for hasn't won a Thanksgiving Day game in quite some time.

I didn't have a problem with the drink (beside the fact that there are only about three pronounceable ingredients: carbonated water, high fructose corn syrup and yellow #5), the problem came after the drink had been polished off; chugstyle in front of 5-6 middle school boys who now undoubtedly have much more respect for me.

I was sitting in the worship service and felt my heart start to beat with gusto...not necessarily fast, but just intensely.  Like I could feel every beat through my whole body.  Then my extremities started to feel funny:  my feet got tingly, my fingers were going numb.  And then it was like an assault on my stomach.  Nothing pretty happens from there.  My friend said this was all in my head, but believe me, when you don't ever drink stuff like that, that stuff will attack you.  And nothing good ever comes from an attack.

It hit me when I emerged from the fog that takes place after such a large consumption of sugar:  no wonder there is an obesity epidemic in America!  There's this haze that settled over me when I started to crash.  I didn't want to do anything but lie on the couch.  I cared about nothing but what episode of 30 Rock I'd watch next.  I didn't feel like running.  I didn't feel like cleaning, or folding my laundry.  I just wanted to sit on my bum and shut down. 

Which is why I only ran one mile yesterday.  I felt horrible all day and there was no way I was even attempting a long run.  And I vow to never drink Mountain Dew ever again.  To any bets involving the stuff, I will just say, No Thank You!