The lure of pie

I don’t usually like to brag, but I have a special talent.

I can eat an entire pie in one sitting. I’ve done it more than once.

At Thanksgiving a couple years ago at my parents’ house, I felt a certain attraction to a blueberry pie. I made several return trips to the dessert table. The pie had no chance. I don’t think anyone missed it. There were plenty more.

At my sister’s wedding eight years ago, I nearly did cartwheels when I saw that instead of a wedding cake, the caterer had brought in wedding pies, about 20 or 30 of them — apple, cherry, blueberry, etc. I felt a duty to sample each kind.

A few years ago, my editor brought a pumpkin pie to work for the staff, and set it down on a filing cabinet near my desk. I politely waited until the end of the workday, and when I saw that only two people had taken a piece, I stepped up and did what needed to be done.

I can’t explain it. A box of donuts is perfectly safe in my presence. A plate of cupcakes will grow old and stale. But a pie? Its hours are numbered. I’m the Doctor Kevorkian of pies.

However, when I’m in training for a big race (as I am now), I try to avoid sweets and alcohol. I just don’t like running with an extra 10 or 15 pounds around my middle.

Yet I can only resist up to a point. I am a mere mortal. Which brings me to my little confession.

time for pieYesterday, the food editor at my newspaper was judging a pie bake-off. In her corner of the newsroom, readers had dropped off pies that filled two tables. The judges had done their work. The word went out through the newsroom: Help us get rid of these pies.

A few times in life, if we’re lucky, we see a challenge worthy of our efforts. This was one of those times.

I dropped what I was doing and strode manfully over to the pie tables. There, I filled a plate with four kinds of pie: cherry, Boston cream pie, lemon meringue and blueberry. Then I happily returned to my desk, and did my duty. Oh, the sweet temptation.

But like most temptations, the day of reckoning hit hard.

This morning, when I woke up, I felt the cruel hangover. I was sluggish and logey. I ran 4.75 miles around my neighborhood in in a plodding 42:25.

Oh, the price for my indulgence was large, indeed. I should have called my sponsor from Pie-aholics Anonymous, and talked until the temptation passed.

As I plodded around the neighborhood, I was overwhelmed with shame and regret. I swore up and down I would remain strong for the next month, until the big race was behind me. This is no time for further weakness.

But the day the race is over, I have a date with the pie cart.

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2 Responses to “The lure of pie”

  1. run2boston Says:

    According to my calculus, you have to run for about 2.5 hours to work off the 2,000 calories from an entire pie. Sounds like a fair exchange to me!

    — R2B

  2. thank you for this post! Thats funny for me! ; ) Keep the fire burning! ; )

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