Eating like a man

(Photo: Jessica Szhor (no, not me) from Men's Health June 2009)

The past two weeks I've noticed a worrying and familiar trend.

I've started eating like a lumber jack.

I mean, I can really polish off a meal...with gusto, in startling amounts and with a hunger that is a force to be reckoned with. I do remember "the runner's hunger" from my first marathon training. Somehow, though, I feel like age is not on my side this time. A 30-year-old woman shouldn't be eating like this. Like a man. Only I would run a marathon and not lose a pound. Ugh.

Last weekend, after a long run on a cold day, my boyfriend and I made pasta for dinner. We both sat down at the table and looked at each other and our plates like two dogs over their dinner bowls. Fingers could have been lost.

Ultimately, I lost that round. Eric finished off his pasta and I was left tired and uncomfortable with food still left behind. That wasn't the case the week before when pad thai was involved. I'm pretty sure I saw both horror and respect in Eric's eyes when I polished off my pad thai like a hyenna sucking the marrow out of a carcass. I'm in training, what does he expect?

It does make me wonder what happens when men train. Eric already eats like a man, naturally. So, now, he just eats like a fat man trapped in the body of a little man. Beyonce said it, and I agree, there is a fat girl inside me clawing to come out. The fat girl in me and the fat man in Eric make unappetizing dinner partners. Probably a good thing we run the fatsy twins into submission.

My inner fatty might win at dinner, but I'm dragging her along this Saturday for 15 miles and that bitch better get in line.