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Pancakes – It’s The Breakfast Of Champions (Also Stress Eaters)

I weighed myself this morning and I’m officially the heaviest I’ve ever been. Why? Because I’ve been inhaling the breakfast of champions NONSTOP as of late. Yup. Pancakes. Lots and lots of pancakes. Are you with me? If not, I’ll make some room because I have a lot on my mind (and plate).  

It’s summer and the kids are off which means that mom is in the kitchen making up for all of those fast mornings during the school year. You know, the ones where I just threw cereal at everyone and called it a day? Well, now I’m going overboard and trying my hardest to show the troop that summers are meant for celebrations. And I guess celebrations smell a lot like maple syrup. 

breakfast of champions

Pancakes – It’s The Breakfast Of Champions (Also Stress Eaters)

But I’m finding that I’m overeating more and more this year – even when we aren’t “celebrating” or at least pretending to. This is something I tend to do when I feel out of sorts. 

There are two types of people in the world. Those that eat when they are stressed out and those that do not. I’m an eater – an indulger. I normally don’t have a sweet tooth, but when I get upset or down on myself, I don’t know WHY…. but sugar makes me feel better.

But it’s not better. It’s just more full. It makes me feel stuffed or whole or complete? I don’t know how to describe it. When I stuff my face with something sweet then I don’t feel so empty inside and at least that is one thing I don’t have to worry about. Does that make sense to you?

I have a hole and I fill it. I fill it usually with the breakfast of champions and, naturally, I’m saying that ironically because we all know that pancakes are not a great choice multiple times a week.   

pancake stack

I should reach for greek yogurt or an egg casserole but odds are I’m heating up pancakes or overnight french toast instead. It’s just what I’m drawn too and there is nothing I can do to change that. No book I can read, no YouTube video I can watch, no guru’s class I can sign up for. This flaw is just within me. 

Just like a drug addict, I have to choose to make a better decision. I have to want it. You know what they say – you can send someone away for help a thousand times, but if they don’t want it… it won’t work.

It’s the same with food. I will always reach for the donut over the yogurt because I choose it – selfishly. Despite knowing better. My breakfast of champions will always be my go-to. And it’s been that way since I was a little girl. This is nothing new. 

Then Comes The Guilt

Food is so powerful. It sits with us like a brick – physically and mentally. Sometimes I eat things and I don’t realize that I’ve finished. Sometimes I eat things and I haven’t tasted any of it. Sometimes I eat things and the regret is so instantaneous that I don’t know why I’ve even bothered to begin with. 

When will I learn?

When will I break this cycle?

When will I do better for my children?

When will I love myself enough to choose better? 

But It’s Just Pancakes!

Is it? Is it just pancakes? It’s always pancakes with me. It’s always the poor choice. It’s always the wrong move. It’s always two steps forward and five steps back on the board. I don’t believe in myself. I tell myself I was born differently and maybe I was.

I have Hashimoto’s but that is just a crutch because a very long time ago, I interview Zoe Salander and she shook my CORE. Every excuse I have are my OWN. She deals with the same exact disease and it doesn’t stop her. 

I’m always tired. I’m always sad. I’m always weak. But is it because of the food that I choose to consume? We all know that food is medicine and is incredibly powerful. Would everything change if I changed my diet?

That makes sense, right? But in order to make such a drastic life change, I need to get in a better mood. Which came first? The chicken or the egg? 

Me. Me. Me. 

Everyone else can eat salad. My circle of friends seemed to have figured it out. They all understand the secret – whatever that secret is. Why can other women tolerate the taste of other types of food, but me?

My breakfast of champions feels like a blanket – a warm and cozy blanket that always welcomes me home. I want to do better, bet better, feel better – but at what cost? At what risk?

I love the taste of food. I live to eat. I don’t eat to live and I think there is a really big difference in kinds of people. There are people who can’t wait to go out and taste the latest and greatest in desserts and culinary treats. And then there are those people who drink celery juice because it’s filled with antioxidants. 

Passion and flavor vs. antioxidants. 

And yes. I know there are foods that can give you both, but I think you know what I am saying here. I want a full-course meal and I want to end it with a hot chocolate topped with whipped cream that was made by literally melting a chocolate bar. You can keep your celery juice. Better yet, burn it. Can you burn celery juice? I’m not sure?


I say I want that hot chocolate and I do. I really do! But there’s more to the story, isn’t there? Hard truths — when I finish that hot chocolate… I feel horrible. So, where is the middle ground? Where can I fall? Where is the “safe space”? I wish I knew. I wish I wasn’t craving my breakfast of champions right NOW. 

What Now? 

I wrote this post because I ate three Mallomars (or should I say devoured them) and after I was done I realized that I didn’t even give myself a chance to enjoy them. I wrote this post because most of my jeans don’t fit me anymore and I refuse to buy new clothes. I wrote this post because I have a really big trip coming up and most of the women that are joining me don’t care about food. So, I will have to face that soon and it’s weighing on me – figuratively and literally. 

I just needed to release these thoughts. Get them off my chest. Maybe by doing so, I will feel a bit lighter.

Am I alone in this?

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