The Road To Recovery

Now I didn't publish that previous post just to make you feel better about your pathetic lives, with all your impulse control and toned tan tummies. I published it as a goodbye. Goodbye to the sloth and gluttony I have so lovingly embraced. Mmm sweet salacious sloth...she curls up in my lap at night, stroking my belly, whispering sweet nothings into my ear while gluttony dabs the sweat from my brow and peels grapes...some nights she even pre-chews them so as not to excite me with all my own chewing....STOP!

Goodbye you foul temptresses! You fiends, evil sirens, disgusting sucubi! I CAST THEE OUT! Yesterday I began my journey to sweat out their hypnotic alluring toxins. I erged and I erged until my back spasmed. I did push ups until my pecs burned and veins throbbed down my arms. I did leg raises, bicycles, obliques, and crunches until I couldn't sit up with pushing myself up with my arms. Sweat poured from my body, grunts thundered off the walls, the room flooded with determination and grit. A small dinner of broccoli, steak and rice replenished all the essentials and I was good to go for the night...until I went to bed STARVING. Did you know if you chug 4 glasses of water before you go to bed it kinda, sorta takes the edge off the hunger?

Today I've had 2 pieces of toast and a yogurt.

I am fitness.

I am self-control.

I am herculean.

I am mastadonic.

I am so hungry.

I am starving.

You know those signs that say 'don't feed the animals'?