Saturday’s post-run meal totaled 1,660 calories and 222 carbs. (That’s 840 cal/90 carbs in three slices of pepperoni pizza, 340 cal/46 carbs in a small chocolate Frosty and 480 cal/76 carbs in this giant but completely forgettable cookie that I won’t have again in this lifetime.)
These days I can go out and run 17 miles on nothing more than a flax muffin and a cup of coconut oil coffee, with a cheese stick about two-thirds of the way through.
On Saturday’s 11.5 mile Cheat Day run, I had a lot more junk in my fuel tank: a PB&J, a slice of bread with butter, half a cup of cashews and some pretzels dipped in chocolate. And that’s just what I was grazing on in the 1-2 hours before our early afternoon run.
Earlier in the day, I’d had a ridiculous breakfast of a cinnamon roll, a pint of Ben and Jerry’s Chocolate Therapy ice cream, a cup of leftover mac and cheese and half a cup of Strawberry Frosted Mini Wheats. (Ice cream for breakfast? I know, I know, but I’d been looking forward to it all week and didn’t want to wait. Weirdly, I found it rather disappointing.)
Anyway, let’s just say I was worried about the gastrointestinal effect. It seems like every other long run either my sister or I have a period of time where we’re trying to “run through” some intestinal cramping – or at least make it to the campground restrooms. (Usually for me it’s when we run shortly after I get off my early morning newspaper shift, which tends to mess up my “regularity,” if you catch my meaning.)
But this time it was Traci who was suffering, while I felt perfectly fine. The thing is, even though my diet was way off, it could’ve been much worse. On a Cheat Day where I don’t have a run planned, I sometimes inhale too much too fast and wind up with an aching gut at some point. Knowing we had that run scheduled, I restrained myself from that level of ridiculousness. (It’s a fine line, but it’s there.)
The interesting thing to me was what came afterward.
Now, I had plenty to eat, and believe me, it wasn’t rabbit food: A small chocolate Frosty, three slices of pepperoni pizza and a giant oatmeal cookie. But the thing is, once upon a time, it could’ve – would’ve — been even more.
I used to go into a complete frenzy after a long run, inhaling everything in sight. Now that most of my longer run occur on low-carb days, I usually have something like a large omelet with veggies, or maybe two turkey burgers with veggies. A meal, in other words. A large meal, always with plenty of protein, but it’s not a low-carb binge. It has an obvious starting and stopping point.
Saturday’s fattening post-run feast was high-calorie crap for sure, but it could at least be considered a meal: pizza with double dessert. (Or, as I preferred to think of it, pizza with a fattening “drink” and dessert.)
The important thing was, I knew when I was ready to be done. I also knew I’d probably eat something else later in the day, but that’s another story. (It’s one with a happy ending, though: All I craved the rest of the day was cereal and fruit. I had plenty of both, but it could’ve been much, much worse.)
As for the idea that you can get away with overdoing it on a day when you’ve got a double-digit run, forget about it: I was up 4 pounds the next morning.
I definitely am dabbling in “eating normal” on long run days instead of trying to meticulously jam in some magical amount of macros, and I’m not going to lie, I don’t feel any worse for the wear. I do appreciate my cheat meals, though, and I do especially love when they fall after a nice long run. And ice cream for breakfast happens sometimes here too – I mean, what does it matter if I eat it first thing in the morning or later on in the day… it’s getting eaten at some point anyway.
Or twice in one day, as was the case for me on Saturday: Ben & Jerry’s for breakfast, and a Wendy’s Frosty after my run. Good grief!