Chicas, I have a confession to make. I have binged. Badly. I’m talking French fries, coconut cake, beer (Heineken Light, to my credit), and pizza. One of my closest friends graduated from her master’s program at Columbia University (congrats, Smriti!) and we went a little crazy celebrating at her house. And even though we played Pitbull’s “I Know You Want Me” at least 10 times and danced in her living room (kids, don’t try drunken cardio at home), somehow I don’t think that cut it.
Never one to dwell on the past for too long, I’ve figured out how I’m going to make up for my breakdown. First, I’m going to take a new boxing class offered at my gym, MPHC, called Ringside. Then I’m going to run outdoors by the pier near my apartment (I heard Jessica Biel and Justin Timberlake were seen running there the other day so maybe I’ll get the chance to put them to shame). Then, I’m going to ask Marc to make me cry during our next session. And lastly, I need to be kept away from fries and all my other favorite greasy foods until I know I can exhibit some sort of restraint. Until then, wish me luck. I will need it.