On eating naked. A memoir.

Last summer, as I pursued my fitness goals I would try to fit in little workouts wherever I could. One such time was directly after work and before my sons’ baseball game. They were with their dad and I had an hour or so where I could get in some cardio.

I hustled home and changed into shorts and a tank top and took off jogging to a local park with a trail. Summer here in Missouri is hot and humid. Unless you are sitting in a creek, it is pretty miserable.

I get back home drenched in sweat and jump into the shower. I get out and I’m still overheated, so I don’t dress yet. I don’t want to get sweaty again. I’m hungry and a multi-tasker, so while I continue to cool off, I go into the kitchen and grab whatevers at hand. A clementine (like a small orange). As I hurredly stand in the kitchen and peel the clementine, I start tossing wedges of fruit in my mouth as I go.

Until I begin to choke.

I don’t know about you, but choking is a scary thing. When you are alone, its terrifying.

My thoughts start racing. “I can’t breathe. Should I throw myself over a chair? Is this really happening? Man…my family is going to think I’m so weird when they find my dead body because I choked on a clementine while naked. Will they mistake this for some kind of fetish?”

As you can surmise, I survived the choking situation. I lived to attend my sons’ baseball game. And I can assure you that I eat only when dressed these days.