That, my friends, is the rush of blood to the face after raising your head from the carb trough. It’s not easy to do, especially since we deny ourselves carbs all the time.
They’re too much fat, we cry.
They’re too much sugar, we scream.
And with a hell-bent for leather single-mindedness, they head straight for multiple areas anywhere between our knees and our necks.
As emphatic as we are about our carb-denial, when we do finally cave, it’s a rush of euphoria seldom duplicated in any other aspect of our lives.
We think, “Yes, oh, yes. This is what I’ve been missing.”
Life is short, right?
So go ahead.
Eat that cake.
You don’t have to overdo it.
But you need to taste it.
Taste the rush.
Feel the flush.