This year, I set out to be more
positive. In that regard, it's been a fairly good year. Beyond the mental
aspects of being more chipper and optimistic, 2012 has been the year I got my
ass off the couch and into shape, as well as the year that I've cleaned up my eating
act. Of the two physically related improvements, I'm slightly more proud
of the change in eating habits. I’m still no saint where it comes to the food
that I put in my mouth, but compared to the junk I allowed to enter my body
throughout the past decades, this year I’ve been a straight up stud.
I’m no poster boy for nutrition by
any means, but whereas in past years I rewarded myself for just getting up and
making it to another day of work by stuffing a few cupcakes down my gullet,
today, I’m rewarding myself by going home to run several miles over lunch.
As for lunch itself, in years gone
by, I rewarded myself for making it through half a day by stuffing a nice, hot,
tasty fast food meal down my throat. I convinced myself I deserved it. Ha. Moron. Later, at home, I wouldn’t hesitate to imbibe in some ice cream, a handful of
cookies, chips, or whatever other tasty morsel might be around the house right
before bed for mostly the same reasons.
Somewhere, around early February or
so, though, my tune for food began to change. The initial note that set me on a
new course was accepting a challenge to participate and complete The Warrior
Dash (a three-mile run with obstacles mixed in) in June. Upon my first workout
and instantly recognizing how out of shape I was, I knew multiple changes were
order, including the type and how much food I shoveled in my body every day.
It didn’t happen overnight, but
eventually I saw the light. I underwent a change. I turned a corner. I pushed
myself away from the table that was full of crap and pulled up a chair instead
to the table offering a better way of living. And that’s the table I’ve chosen
to remain at.
Well, mostly, anyway. I still get
confused now and again and sit down at the table serving too much pizza or
those scrumptious tacos or that big piece of cake or the cheeseburger and
fries, but for the most part, I’ve kept my fork close to the healthier plate.
In the past, for example, it wasn’t uncommon to swallow two or three or more
Cokes in one day. I haven’t drank a Coke in a good eight months, and I don’t miss it.
I also haven’t purchased a package of tasty little chocolate cakes or donuts on
any morning. In fact, except for ice cream (a lifelong enticer if ever
there was one), I’ve been a much better eater all the way around.
Of course, there’s ample room for
improvement, but mostly I’m pretty proud of myself, and overall, passing up on
the crap has been one of the most positive changes I’ve made this year. The
benefits have been pretty obvious, too. More energy. More stamina. Less weight
to lug around. Less back pain. Less neck pain. Less flab. Less irritability.
Less grumpiness. Increase self-worth. Increased knowledge about food. A better
and more refined taste for food that actually offers some health-related value
and doesn’t just taste good. Still no abs, but you can't have it all.
I’m pretty sure I’ll never be that guy who looks in the
mirror and completely likes what he sees. But these days, I don’t mind that guy
looking back at me. That’s more than I can say for the fella I used to stare at,
who at any particular moment in time would kind of gross me out. The
challenge now is getting this new guy to stick around a while.
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