My husband bought me a treat...

Let me first say that I love my husband dearly and that he is so very sweet and thoughtful, but ... he has an uncanny ability to surprise me with my favourite treats just as I decide to go back on the wagon.  By wagon I mean the summer daquiri season is coming to a close, along with the summer eats (ice cream) - all for the benefit of my IBS, my running and my desire for a more svelte physique.

Will drive for homemade ice cream - Lunenburg, Nova Scotia.

That being said, I definitely ate this football-sized chocolate croissant from Two If By Sea for dinner and it was without a doubt the highlight of my day.  They are so big that the first time I brought one home my husband thought it was a sandwich!

Length 7", Height 3", Width 5"

Now, to fully appreciate the naughtiness of this treat, it is important to note that rumour is at least a half block of butter goes into this flaky friend.  Let us be clear about one thing - there is absolutely no graceful way to eat these in public.  Do not wear nice clothes - grease is tough to get out, bibs or aprons are encouraged, a multitude of napkins are recommended, or at the very least, my personal favourite - the wet nap.

After you finish your last bite, you will finally understand what a beached whale must feel like.  A horizontal posture is normally required after such an indulgence and I certainly mastered that pose while digesting on the couch watching Coronation Street.  You might wonder how someone with IBS could possibly survive the ingestion of such a pastry, I am here to tell you that I do not know how I am not yet in the fetal position.  With IBS comes the great mystery as to how IBSers can possibly digest or not digest certain food groups.  I must admit that I am still in awe - awed by my guts of steel in the face of items such as Exhibit A and by my inability to digest key food staples such as vegetables.

After two hours of recovery, I decided it was time to work off at least a quarter of those calories and reluctantly got dressed for a run.  On my drive to the park (because thou shalt not run on pavement), I suddenly felt a burning desire to go for a swim, so I promptly turned down the nearest side street, drove home, ran into the apartment, threw on my suit and headed to the lake as sunset turned into twilight.  Surprisingly, the lake was a pretty happening spot, but luckily there were not nearly as many hooligans at that late hour.  What can I say about this swim?  It was blissful.  The water was calm and slightly cool as the lights from the houses danced across the lake.

The only drawback was my paranoia as I made my way through the wooded path to the parking lot - convinced there were coyotes or rabid raccoons just waiting to eat me.  Luckily I survived to tell that tale.  All in all, I came out pretty unscathed this evening, however, those are likely famous last words; as a rule food normally comes back to haunt you the next day.  Tomorrow I will be able to confirm whether or not I do indeed of guts of steel!