Dare to Do: Fill Your Plate

Olympic fever is everywhere. Even those who don't follow sports (hi) can likely find something that excites them about the Games. As a lover of all things edible, my guilty pleasure is reading Olympian food diaries, such as those detailed in this article from The New York Times. The amount of food that hardcore athletes need to consume is spellbindingly gross - a dozen eggs? Pints of ice cream? Entire pizzas? - and while there are healthy ways to refuel, time and volume constraints lead many Olympians to gravitate toward not-so-stellar options instead.

While unlimited pizza and beer may sound like a sweet (er, savory) deal, the Times article sheds light on an underlying truth of Olympic-level eating—these athletes are simply trying to break even. Most of us feel bloated and sluggish when we eat too much junk, particularly those with active lifestyles, so the idea of being forced to consume massive amounts of high-calorie "fuel" is somewhat depressing. In fact, athletes who would rather nap than gorge may envy our civilian metabolisms—our ability to fill our plates based on balance and pleasure rather than necessity.

The same principle applies to our professional lives. We hop on the treadmill with an end goal in mind, knowing that sprinting will get us there faster. We barrel ahead, hoping to break our own records and sometimes competing against those running alongside us as well. The longer and faster we run, the more our stamina increases, and the less aware we become of our aches and pains—but the more ravenous we become at the end of the day. We require something more to fill us up, and we don't always choose wisely. We crave the peace of mind found in those who have chosen to opt out of the race.

A full plate is a positive thing. Knowing the strain of a hard day's work is a gift in this economy, and if you want the gold, you owe it to yourself to sprint. Glory can be a respectable end in itself. But pushing your body to superhuman extremes demands sacrifice—not only in terms of the time you spend training, but also in terms of your ability to enjoy the fruits of your labor. The ideal balance of work and fuel changes daily. Sometimes you'll run an extra mile, and sometimes you'll regret the fourth slice of pizza whether you "worked for it" or not. Just know that you'll always need to refuel at the finish line, and do your best to fill your plate with care.

—Emma Aubry Roberts