Nothing like good ol’ fast Sunday to help you recover from a belated birthday party at Texas Roadhouse. As a family, we went there last night to celebrate mine and two other birthdays. I was reminiscing as I ordered my meal how the old me once bellied up to the Road House menu and actually ordered and ½ rack appetizer, a full rack of ribs for my meal, and then added yet another ½ rack as a “kicker”. How insane is that? Our server came back from posting my order and informed us that the chef (who was a regional chef, not some local yokel) said I was the first in franchise history to place such an order. At the time, I wore the honor like a badge, but now…wow! I see that I was an irresponsible dip-smack for doing that to myself! Two massive racks of ribs, plus the two side dishes and several rolls...for ONE guy! And I was eating like that most every meal. That, my friends is how a man can blimp up to 371 lbs in a hurry. I was constantly eating like a fat beef being primed for slaughter in a Denver feedlot!
Now, the new me, still likes to celebrate with food once in a while and I certainly did last night, we all did…and it WAS fantastic grub. But can I say that as delicious as it all was, this morning I woke up with a grease-hangover that Hollywood might want to make a movie about. I felt so freaking sluggish after taking all that “garbage” into my body that I wondered why I didn’t exhibit at least some self control. But, in truth, I did exhibit self control when compared to the old me and that in and of itself is cause to celebrate.