eat the damn cookie

Peanut butter and chocolate chip. My signature move. People have literally told me I should sell them. The recipe came from a 70s-era cookbook in my parents’ kitchen - I can still see the cover and the butter-splattered pages. Over the years it evolved into the cookie that shows up for every birthday, every potluck, every care package.

Crashed your bike during Ironman training? Here comes Cindy with cookies.
Breakup? Cookies.
Questioning your life choices during taper week? Cookies.

But guess what? I never bake any just for me, I always give them away. And why?

Because apparently, I couldn’t be trusted.
They’re too good. Too rich. Too...dangerous?
According to my brain, I’d need to run 20 miles just to deserve one. And even then, guilt would sneak in.

This relationship with food is not uncommon. We are constantly labelling foods as “good” or “bad”. Determining whether or not we deserve to eat them because we had a great day and want a treat, or got some bad news and need something comforting. We make our running route longer, bike more miles, eat less during the day, just so that we can "indulge" in a bowl of pasta, a grilled cheese sandwich or a scoop of ice cream.

But here’s the thing. When we deny ourselves that food we are craving, do we actually feel better by eating something that we don’t want? If my body is craving vegan mac n’ cheeze and I eat a salad, I might feel ok, but I’m still craving that bowl of cozy carbs. Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE a big salad. But when it is cold and rainy outside, those delicious greens may not be cutting it for me that day.

Here’s a wild idea: what if you just...ate what you actually wanted?

Seriously. Ask your body what it needs.
Water? A nap? A freakin’ cookie?
Then eat the cookie. Enjoy the cookie. And tell guilt to go sit in the corner.

Because life is short, and peanut butter + chocolate is a sacred combo.