This Is Another Public Service Announcement…
For some of us, trips to the ballpark are a mini-vacation. A few hours to get our minds off of things. To relax. To cheer. To eat a hot dog and drink a beer or 9. To go bananas. To laugh. To cry. You know… a chance to really just do what we want… we might order that cotton candy, grab that lemonade and hand all of our brain waves over to the guys on the field. It’s whatever. For others, entering the ballpark may be a little more thoughtful process. Perhaps you’re a season ticket holder. Perhaps you’re a crazed fan possessed by the 9 inch ball on a budget. Perhaps you’re married to the game. Perhaps you’re me and the ballpark is just your second home.
Whatever your issue may be, you might just get hungry at the ballpark some day. I know it’s crazy but hey- it can happen to any of us.
I have this terrible ailment that causes me to assume that any time I have company in town (or Mat is pitching or I’m traveling or the sky is blue) that I’m on some sort of self-proclaimed vacation. On these vacations, I tend to eat more carbs, drink more adult beverages and miss work outs. Not a good combo, said my pants… Abs are made in the kitchen and when you don’t even have one for about 2 weeks of every month, lord have mercy. Everything seems like a bad decision.
While I’d like to imagine this vacation mindset developed because I have nothing important to do, that’s an entirely irrational thought. Despite my self-deprecating tweets and shameless affinity for vodka drinks, consider me the glue of the collective Latos circus; a glue that has to remain flexible and relatively unemotional. Super glue can’t even do that.
Maybe vacation brain exists because baseball has turned me into an even bigger vampire of the night than I was before. Maybe it’s because I’m constantly stressed. Maybe I’m just making excuses and you know what- everybody does it but my goal of this season is to be more accountable to myself.
Blah, blah, blah… The point of this post is this- If you get hungry at the ballpark and happen to be feeling health conscious on that day, you may be faced with a really serious dilemma. If you’re unlike me and you wear a badge of good decisions 24/7, congratulations! Stop being an overachiever and live a little. After all, you can always spend 4 hours on a treadmill to work off a cheeseburger and fries, AM I RIGHT?!
While I don’t intend to list the ingredients of hot dogs as I’m not even sure the Reds media department will let me use such dirty words on my blog, I am going to make it my mission to point you in the direction of good choices at various ballparks in the event that you ever feel the need to make them. I am not a nutritionist, I didn’t buy a certificate to frame from an online school, I don’t particularly advocate any single way of eating because everyone’s body is different but I do have years of informal “education” on health matters and will simply be suggesting what I would do if I got to the ballpark and didn’t feel like a foot long coney with all of the toppings was a reasonable afternoon snack. (Note: I never feel like this but to each their own).
Unrelated: It’s a well-known fact that I love going to the Holy Grail across from the ballpark before games and people often ask me my favorite thing to eat there. The Reagan salad is great but I rarely order it because of the cheese and salad dressing. Instead, I order a plain chicken breast, turkey burger or black bean burger (without a bun) with a side of veggies. To wash it down, Tito’s vodka (gluten-free), water and a lemon or a splash of cran. You can skip the vodka, I’m just going for full disclosure here. For the record, you can pretty much order this mundane but functional cuisine at any restaurant so never hesitate to let your freak flag fly and make special requests.
Since I’m writing for your sake, I’m asking you to let me know if there’s anything you’d like me to look for in particular in the comments of this post (calorie count, gluten-free options, low carb, etc.).
Captain Do What I Say, Not What I Do.