Working Out and Eating Right or How I Have My Limitations
I work out six days a week or so. That statement seems to lend itself to the conception that I may be a healthy individual. That is sort of right. I have committed myself to a thorough workout regime where I lift weights, indulge in cardio, and stretch with regularity. I have also recently employed a chiropractor (a word I can’t spell to save my ass for some reason) to ensure that I don’t put myself too far out of wack while doing all this exercise. Once again, these facts would imply that I have a very healthy body. However, there is a catch, but let me come back to that.
Working out is one of those things. It is really good for you, but that is a hard thing to realize while you are doing it. I hate fucking lunges. Put two weights in your hands, take a big step out with a knee going to the ground, and repeat. It is horrible the entire time. However, I am aware of how it aids my legs and conditioning and does all these positive things and blah, fucking, blah. Knowing this does not make it any less shitty. All I can really do is suck it up (I would say stop being a pussy, but I have seen plenty of women be much better at lunges than me), do the work, and know that it is for my own good.
I know we all come up against this. Some people have the unmitigated gall to tell you that they really like it. They can’t get through their day without it because of how much they love to exercise. Bullshit! We do it because we know how good it is for us. Some people can stick with it, some people can’t, and others go back and forth. We all have days where we loathe it or are okay with it at best. Honestly, I used to be a back and forth type, but I have become consistent over the last three years. Good for me or the hell with me, however you see it. I really don’t care. I didn’t do it for you bastards. I did it for this bastard.
Here is where I can’t get this shit right. Eating right, fuck that. Now, I have tried and made several changes to my diet over the years. I stopped eating chips, reduced my sweets, soda, and other food that is good. I eat more fresh vegetables and fruit. I also try very hard not to binge though it does happen every once in a great while. However, that shit isn’t enough. Recently, the gym I go to had a clean eating challenge. No dairy, no sugar, no processed food, no friggin’ way. I couldn’t do it. I found my limit. I really don’t mind eating better. I won’t dip a stick of butter in sugar and go to town on that bad boy. I don’t feel the need to deep fry everything, but I just wasn’t willing to deny myself milk. I love milk. I have a glass of chocolate milk every day and it is one of the few things keeping me from going on a murderous rampage wherein every person who has pushed my bad temper over the edge would be in serious danger. (God damn, that got dark.)
I guess when it comes down to it, I fell short. I couldn’t step up to one more challenge after three years of taking big strides forward. Here is an example. My dental hygienist hates me. In fairness, that isn’t true, but it feels that way. When I first went to my current dentist, I was told to floss more. I did. Then, I was told to use mouthwash with fluoride. I did. Then I was told to improve my brushing technique. I fucking did! The last time I went, I was told that my toothpaste wasn’t good enough. Oh, HOLY SHIT! Okay, I changed, but I have to admit that if the hygienist isn’t happy when I go back in a few weeks, I may burst. I don’t mind making changes for my health, but I know I can’t be perfect and there is just a point where this one thing is a complete burden.
Regardless of all that shit, I like to live a little. I like to do things that I know I will enjoy. I work out because it makes my quality of life better. I eat a little better because I feel stronger when I do, but I have to admit that I have a breaking point. So, I’ll never have six pack abs or massive pythons for arms (though that sounds weird enough that I don’t think I want to), but I can live with that. Overall, I am content, and that is the only way to be in my estimation. (Not that you asked or cared. I just felt like saying it.)
Also, when people tell you how good tuna is for you, laugh at them. It can’t be good for me if I die trying to choke that shit down.
