Overheard a conversation in the gym this morning. Guy #1 was holding up Guy #2 from completing his workout. After all, it’s a real treat to drag your tired ass to the gym at five in the A.M. to hear about last night’s viewing events on the boob tube. 

Guy One was deep into last night’s plot of some cable show he believed to be the Second Coming, or the drool on his chin was the excitement of his riveting storytelling abilities. Anyway, after several minutes Guy Two wished he could retrieve and relive all over again, Guy One commented about his desire to lose weight and get into shape like the rest of us who make the predawn trek to The Temple of Iron and Other Heavy Stuff.

I personally wanted to shout something in the neighborhood of “Then shut the f#@k up and do something”, but that might have been far too obvious. Everyone possessing the ability to detect sound waves was then given the gift of listening to the great new discovered flavor of potato chips, the economy sized bucket of hot wings, the copious amounts of beer and other edible sundries Guy One consumed last night, not to forget the drive thru lunchtime treat awaiting him at the stroke of high noon. 

Folks, food is not a substance to provide yourself for no other reason than it is available. Think of your body as a moving vehicle. Just as you wouldn’t fuel your car every time the needle hits the three quarters full mark, you are not required to shove food, and bad food at that, into the chewing portal mounted on your face because the bottomless pit you call a waistline is beckoning. Also, having a gym membership is not a free ride to the all you can eat buffet of life. It doesn’t work that way. 

People who have the body, who have the look, put effort into it to make it work. In and out of the gym. Sitting at or away from the dinner table. It’s that simple. They aren’t taking the easy way out. They aren’t making excuses or passing responsibility and accountability onto others. 

Wake up and smell it. You aren’t getting any younger. Life is hard. Life is harder when your preferred wardrobe is a loose fitting sweat suit, and you aren’t wearing it because serious exertion is on the horizon.