I've entered the mourning period of my weight gain.
This is where I mourn what I've lost (in this case a smaller, lighter, and more energetic body) and resign to my fate as a continued Fatman.
I was just watching a Casey Neistst [casey.nyc]YouTube video where he said that free time is the enemy of progress. If that is the case, I'm screwed.
As you might have inferred from my incredibly predictable lack of posting, I've essentially failed my 110 day goal of getting into crazy good shape.
For starters, I've made some terrible decisions. I went with a friend to taste cakes a couple of weeks ago. Yes, you read that right. I went to go taste cake. As in to willfully eat sugar, a substance I've struggled against my whole life. A substance that has a controlling effect over all of my actions. Like a heroin addict reintroduced to some dope, I am now woefully and inexplicably hooked again.
Well I guess I shouldn't be surprised. I'm so dialed into bad decision making that I've all but given up on getting into shape.
It's funny: my thought process seems to be as addicted as I am.
It's like this little voice in my head justified all the terrible decisions and plays with my logical choices by saying: You're screwed.
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