I’ve always loved food. When other young girls had dreamed of barbie dolls and Easy Bake ovens, I dreamed of the Easy Bake—sans the oven. I’ve had a million runs where I have literally thought about food with every step. I once read that guys think about sex every seven seconds. I’m certain I think about food as often.
But lately, my love has turned into obsession. I’ve always been slightly creepy when it comes to food—I frequently (and not so stealthily) scope out people’s refridgerators when I visit their pads. I often ask people “What did you have for breakfast/lunch/dinner today?”…and then forget that I lack a filter when it comes to food, and that this is an extremely odd question.
Since I could barely cook toast before college (I learned my sophomore year in high school—sadly, I’m serious), I used to only be fascinated by some aspects of food. I didn’t care to know how to marinate a chicken, or what spices to use to spruce up a steak. I liked the end result, not the process.
Yet now that I enjoy cooking, I’ve become a bit of a food stalker. I’ve recently “discovered” a variety of food blogs that I read multiple times daily. Not food blogs of my favorite magazines, either. Blogs written by actual people—your everyday “foodies,” I suppose. It feels intrusive, but I can’t help it—I’m fascinated by what people eat. Let’s just hope that I’m a more svelte blog stalker than a refrigerator examiner.
Luckily, my passion for food and running make a nice little marriage. But I can’t help but think if one day the latter falls by the wayside, my obsession with edibles will eventually make me end up with a muffin top. And not the delicious, Panera kind.