Desperation is the fuel that ignites the spark of drive.
I am on my third month of Thanksgiving dinner and have gotten fatter than sh*t. Last year, I shed some weight in hopes of being a better runner and having a greater sense of well-being. I did all this without putting in the necessary work that comes with maintaining strength and increasing performance. Essentially I just turned into a tired mass of skin. I hated the way I looked and felt. I like to feel strong, even if it comes with some extra love on the waistline.
When people like me (the corner-cutters who are looking for the easy way out) say we “want to get strong”, that is code for “I’m fixin to get fatter than hell, wear hoodies to cover it up, deadlift a ton of weight and convince myself that I need pizza and cheeseburgers to fuel my gains.”
Being that I have never been one to accept subtle hints, I should be grateful that my awareness of my recent weight gain has come upon me so quickly that it gives me that panic-stricken feeling of desperation. I feel so anxious about the extra fat that I am carrying around with me that I am constantly uncomfortable and insecure in every environment. The tugging of my shirt with every motion, the constant pulling of my pants which have crept up into my crotch, and the searching of a wardrobe which make me look like I am going incognito into Afghan territory has created the feeling that has historically only been generated by a feeling of helplessness and desperation.
People like me don’t get sober because of a hangover. Folks like me don’t correct improper movement because of a nagging injury. People like myself don’t change their eating habits because they put on a couple of pounds. Nope. Lives have to be wrecked, backs have to be broken, and buttons have to burst. That’s where the drive is generated.
Maybe my life would be easier if I could find drive in times of neutrality and balance, but I can’t. I need massive swings, dire straights, and last-ditch efforts to get me progressing forward. It is certainly not the best approach but it is far better than laying down and accepting it.
I guess it’s time to get to work and make some drastic changes. I know that there are a few things that can be tweaked to help to ensure success but as far as I am concerned, if I’m going to have any chance of having a clean tub, the baby is going out with the bathwater. I would rather change it all and see what happens.
Being driven is a gift, even if it looks like desperation while being manufactured.
Peace, Love, and all things Beef related,