About a week ago, I had an hour to kill before meeting a new client. I hadn't had lunch and my stomach was growling as I slipped into a Starbucks. I was already drooling at the thought of treating myself to a "low-fat" blueberry muffin or--just maybe--one of their doughnuts that contain enough calories to feed a small village in India for a week. YUM.
As I'm rocking back and forth on my heels, peering into the goodie counter, I look up and across the room--directly into the eyes of my trainer who is watching me with a big-ass grin on his face.
I walked over to where he was sitting. "Can you believe people actually eat the stuff they have in there?" I asked motioning to the display case and shaking my head in dismay. "Really, it's sad."
"Uh-huh," he said.
SO busted. I sighed and went back to the counter and ordered a grande decaf which, I have to say, was nowhere near as satisfying as a muffin or doughnut. Ben wouldn't have said anything if I had ordered the biggest muffin there, but it would have been hard to eat it, knowing I would be working out with him in a couple of hours.
Busted and ego-bruising, but I didn't have to sweat off the extra 900 calories. Probably a fair trade.