So in yesterday’s episode, I took stock of my lack of progress and the possible rationale for my stagnancy. I basically gave myself some tough love. And that reeeeeeeally stunk. Why? Because I forced myself to look at the current state of “internal affairs” and concluded that enhancements needed to be made toot-sweet. (I just used the phrase “toot-sweet” in a sentence – I should be given a time out for that moment of idiocy). As a result of this analysis, one of the discoveries I made was that my diet was, in technical terms, well…….stupid. Just dumb. Moronic. Here I am trying to stay healthy, injury-free and strong throughout what promises to be the most physically demanding year of my life (thus far), and I still take in enough Diet Coke a day to choke a horse. Enough chocolate a day that I constantly walk around on a sugar kick. And coffee? Don’t even get me started! If I had the medical credentials and the proper equipment, I’d simply mainline Dunkin Donuts French vanilla with cream & sugar.
These harsh realizations resulted in what I am now defining as a self-intervention. As my buddy Chuck once told me, “Joey my boy (he called me Joey and that pissed me off – but he was a bit smarter than me so I gave him a pass), for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction”. To which I, of course, retorted “Chuckie D (I called him Chuckie D just to exact my revenge on a rather kindergarten level – and because he secretly adored Run DMC), you must be high”. Well I was wrong. He wasn’t high. Instead, he wrote a few laws and got famous in the halls of science while I rumbled through a remote college ingloriously.
Ah those words still bounce around in my rather dense cranium: for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. Chuck was right, and I can prove it without some fancy-shmancy scientific theorem (“toot-sweet”….”fancy-shmancy”…see what happens when you take a schmuck like me off of my magic elixirs?). Based on the action of my “self-intervention”, the reaction was me publicly swearing off of Diet Coke AND chocolate. Why did Chuck need to be so darn smart?
Well I am happy to report that it’s been approximately 24 hours since I made that promise to myself….and thus far I’ve managed to stick to it. However, it has NOT been easy. The action of taking away my soda and chocolate is like taking away Dr. House’s bottle of vicodin: the reaction is probably going to be messy.
….24 hours……that’s all….and I’m already a complete grouch. This does not bode well. And I’m a sourpuss to begin with.
On a lighter note, last night I sat down and developed my running schedule for the next couple of months. I’ve now provided myself with some structure. Hopefully this will help me improve my speed and stamina. Time will tell.
So there you have it, sports fans. I have a bunch of marathons coming up along with some other races in New York City, I’m about to step up the structure and intensity of my workouts…and I’m doing it without my of my favorite food groups: chocolate and Diet Coke. Make sure your seatbelts are fastened, your trays are locked and your seats are in the upright position, because I’m betting there will be some turbulence up ahead.
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