Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Oh vanity, thy name is Monk….

This morning, in between bouts of grunting and calling him a “sadistic twat”, my trainer dared me to do the unthinkable. When I first set out to change my life and loose the now 70+ pounds, I did a major house cleaning. Ejecting bad habits like so much debris from my previous life. Gone were the pints after work every day, the drugs, the drive thru meals and a toxic lifestyle that denied who I really wanted to be.

Now almost 6 years later, the results are beyond even what I had imagined. The human body, as I will tell anyone who sits still long enough to listen, is an amazing machine. Adapting to new stresses and stimuli and if given the chance, overcoming them and transforming into something powerful and graceful. Every time I thought I had hit a plateau, that point where I thought, “Ok, this is where my body wants to be, be satisfied.” A slight tweak in the routine, be it diet or exercise or even environmental and the body, that amazing machine, responded by becoming even leaner and stronger (both physically and mentally).

I know, I know you are asking yourself why the hell am I telling you all this, surely there must be limits to even my vanity.

Like most folks, with the New Year I decided to challenge myself, could I push my body harder? Past this current plateau and carve it into something even sleeker and more powerful? In short, I really want to look good naked. Not that I currently get any complaints, mind you, but rather see what I was possible if we stepped things up and pushed even harder.

So, coupled with a crew that is all as health conscious as I am, we as a company decided to veto doughnuts and other such desserts from the Abbey. The weekly deliveries of baked treats that I used to thank my crew were replaced with bags of oranges and apples. Add to this a wife who is now training for a marathon and makes me look like a couch potato.

But I digress, this morning as I worked out, muscles trembling and shaking as they were pushed right up to the point of failure, my trainer commented on the sleeker lines he was seeing.
“I was the doughnuts,” I tell him gasping through clenched teeth. “Six weeks cold turkey… dropped that last 5 pounds”
“Just think what you will look like if you give up French fries?”
“Cut out the fries”
“Dude, I’d rather give up sex!”
“21 days, no fries…. I dare ya”

Oh man, I love French fries. I have no idea if I can give them up, but god how I love a challenge.