1 Coldstone Creamery Milkshake
For Breakfast I had ice water, ibuprofen, and anticipation.
For lunch I had diet lemonade, and dreamed of the evening.
For dinner I had more ice water and a big helping of self pitty.
“Nobody’s making you do this, you know,” laura said while eating a a Thai curry stir fry. I could smell the garlic, the coconut milk, the spinach and fresh basil from our garden. My stomach churned. But I waited. Saving myself.
Then the pay off!
Oh yeah! The Coldstone gotta have it sized PB&C milkshake. You’re looking at 2010 calories of chocolaty goodness.
You’re looking at the unhealthiest drink in America.
You’re looking at what I dreamed about all day long and chugged in 5 minutes.
It was 94 degrees outside, and I’d been painting outside in the sun all day. The blast of air conditioning by itself was enough to make me sure that I’d finally died and gone to heaven. The unenthusiastic and clearly mandatory “welcome to Coldstone,” I received upon entering the store made me sad for all the people on earth who hate their jobs.
I got the counter and ordered. “I’ll take whatever you’re largest size of peanut butter and chocolate shake is.” I waited to see judgement in the server’s eyes…
but all I saw was boredom… and efficiency. The server quickly pored a dash of milk(or heavy cream perhaps) into a blender, then mixed in seven scoops of chocolate ice cream and a huge clump of peanut butter. I cheered as the blender began to roar!
I chugged that delicious chocolaty peanut butter heart attack. I tried to take it slow, but I was so hungry, and hot, and man it was cold and delicious.
“You know that’s 2010 calories, right?” Laura said, eying my milk shake over her ice cream.
“So you’re going to have to give me at least a drop.”
Never have I eaten so many calories so quickly. That thing was barely in my hand before it was history. Then I felt like this:
Man, I’ve heard people talk about a food coma before, but I don’t think I ever truly experienced one till after this. Thankfully, when we left the restaurant, Laura was driving. We had a nice conversation that went something like this:
Now, if I had gone on a run instantly, I obviously would have barfed my guts up everywhere. So I did what any smart person would do and played a round of mini golf first.
Even after two hours of digestion, the run was horrible.
Mile one I burped up peanut butter.
Mile two I had stabbing bilateral side aches.
Mile three I ran out of gas, barely keeping a crawling pace based on sheer willpower.
|Saturated Fat:||68 g|
(that’s the saturated fat of nearly 70 slices of bacon)
Fulness Factor: Truth, as soon as I ate it I wanted to eat something salty. Like fries.
Taste: There’s a reason people eat this.