"If this was an art show we'd call it Sleepwalking Through Life: a series of marginal decisions. There is little doubt the artist is from another planet; merely hitching a ride on our interstellar freighter."
I
have to apologize to our readers for my lack of blog production; it has
been a crazy wild few weeks for yours truly -- all of which assisted in
my expanding waistline and the reptilian portion of my brain desiring to flee into the arms of
Mistress Comfort Food. But I shall repent and request leniency as the wagon comes back around to punch my ticket. However,
it has been a great month for Jaron! With his weight loss and muscle development he is down 11. He looks on track to drop the last 16 in the five week balance.It takes little math or Wal-Mart focus group mental horsepower to realize I have become the dead weight on the contest, which I shall spare the readership my "I already got the cow and the milk" excuses. Attention needs to stay on Jaron! He will hit his personal goal, and our female followers are not going to be disappointed with the April 1st photo of our Guru of Gainzzz. Even though he enjoys word-smithing a wonderful response to my drivel, I hope he gives our audience a look behind the curtain of his program. There are few soon-to-be 40 year olds who get in this kind of shape for a commoditized birthday and a yearly beach vacation. Vanity shall arrest!
Nothing like worldwide public shaming to keep your program on track. The promise of posting a beach photo on one's 40th, turns out, is a pretty damn good motivator. I could wax poetic about the profound nature of turning 40 and the introspection that accompanies said milestone, but let's face it, I'm not that deep. It's a Wednesday, people. A Wednesday which will find me soaking in the rays on a beach somewhere in Mexico with uncharacteristic umbrella drinks! "Behind the curtain" my program is not rocket science. Heavy weights 4 days a week with an extended version of 'in season' cardio. Not much different than what I would tailor for a client, minus the booze caveat. There is one minor hiccup in the works. The mother of all Kraustian holidays looms on the horizon, ready to derail my loosely held sanity. March Madness! For those new to the blog, I have a 22 year tradition of mass consumption of basketball, bar food, and booze spanning 48-96 hours surrounding the opening weekend of the tournament. Oh, there will be nacho plates the size of small dogs and the requisite wheel barrow removal from the all you can eat sushi dive, but the real fear is the booze. For 48 unforgiving hours I will put a run on the liquid reserves of the mighty Las Vegas Strip. And, if history is any indication, she won't be found wanting. Yes, loyal readers, you may yet see a middle age former athlete stumble with the finish line in sight like the iconic "Wide World of Sports" triathlete replete with full loss of bodily faculty. Until then...
ReplyDelete