On Needing a Big Sloppy Meal

I feel like I could say this every single week, if I was being really honest, but I’m trying eat better these days. That means a lot of chicken, a lot of spinach, a lot of sliced deli turkey, and not as much delicious stuff as I’d like. It’s nice because when you stick to it, you stop having such terrible stomach aches, you feel more in control of your life, and eventually, you might even be a little happier with how you feel. But sometimes, sometimes, there’s just this monster inside of you. A little goblin who claws at your insides. This evil little gremlin whispers in your ear, “give me frieeeees. I want a buuuurger. You should totally get a buuuuurito. I bet you can’t eat that entire pint of ice creaaaaaaam.” And sometimes, you just have to give in to that little bastard.

Maybe you’ve been eating well for a while and its going pretty good. Maybe you just did a crazy hike or went surfing all morning, or had a particularly grueling day on the couch. Whatever you did (or didn’t do) sometimes you just need a Big Sloppy Meal (a BSM). When that craving hits, that’s when I feel the most like a feral animal. Or, maybe that’s when I feel most like a cartoon dog being lifted through the air by the smell of a pie cooling on the window. Whatever it is that I’m like, I’m powerless.

At that point, it’s just about pointing your craving at the right direction: are you going to get something from a local spot that you love but can’t continually subjugate your body to. Maybe you’ll branch out and try that one enormous sandwich that has a bunch of smaller sandwiches on it that you’ve heard so much about. Maybe you’ll jump on the hot chicken train and risk the next 24 hours being a symphony of spicy misery. Or maybe, you’re just a nasty little animal (just like me) and you’re going to waste your delicious diet infidelity on something as base and disgusting and revolting and delicious as a McDonalds or a Taco Bell. Whatever it is, sometimes you just need it.

Even when I’ve been at my healthiest, when I’ve become more kale than man and I’ve run more miles in the last month than I’ve eaten fries, a switch will just flip. It’s like some kind of Manchurian Candidate moment when you stop being yourself, and you become your inner racoon whose only goal is to dive headfirst into a bag that has become nearly translucent with grease.

And boy, when you take that first bite and the salt and the fat and the sauce and the guilt all hit you at once, it’s something special (unless of course, you chose wrong and the BSM you got just isn’t very good…that’s a nightmare we don’t talk about). And then, hopefully the next day you go back to chicken salads with a dessert of some blueberries or something…but when you dream at night, you can still taste that BSM.

So, what’s your go-to big sloppy meal?