Yesterday I planned how I can prevent myself from stuffing my face and guzzling booze while I lie immobile on the couch for the rest of my days.
I figured out that choosing from a set menu around breakfast and lunch every day will provide me with enough choices to fend off boredom, but not so many choices that I lose the plot entirely and run around the grocery store like a madwoman, buying every ingredient in sight. For example, every day for breakfast I can choose between an English muffin, oatmeal, a breakfast shake or an egg and toast. It’s not a mind-bending list of choices, but it’s a decent enough rotation. I can always swap out different items as I get sick of them and add new options as they arise.
My cube at work now resembles a small corner store with a mixture of fresh produce and dry goods for lunch. A tomato here, a can of tuna there. It reminds me of a bodega in NYC: not enough variety for a satisfying shopping experience, but you’ll manage to find enough foodstuffs to uphold survival.
Last night I went to a group exercise class taught by the personal trainer at work. When I woke up this morning, I thought, “Ha! Crazy Trainer Man believes he can kick my weak ass. Think again, Crazy Trainer Man! There is not one sore muscle on me. Not one. I must be in better shape than I thought. I’m a stud. This class is going to be easy.”
As the day progresses, each muscle is speaking up in turn. First my quads, then my hammies and my glutes, followed by my abs and so on: each body part is crying out, “Dear god, woman, why would you intentionally do such a thing?” But let me tell ya, it hurts so good.
From my last weekend in the mountains with nothing but fresh air, activity and healthy food, I have learned that I feel pretty damn good when I make nutrition and exercise a priority. That along with sleeping enough and cutting way back on the boozing should cause a few positive changes in other areas, I am guessing.
Here is my theory: If I make the effort to do those four things (wholesome and low-cal diet, tons of exercise, more sleeping, less boozing), then everything else will fall into place. I can get out of bed in the morning with a clear head. I can be more mentally focused at work. I will have more energy to do all the other things that I need to do, such as have a lot of sex and … well, you know, things that need doing.
Once this way of life becomes second nature to me – meaning I won't have to examine every motherf*ckin' food label in the grocery store each time I go shopping, because I will recognize which foods are superior and which ones will turn me into a manatee, and once I have my workout schedule down pat, and once I stop wasting mental capacity with craving my glass of wine at night – once all of this falls into place, I will have boundless energy to devote to writing more. I won't need to numb my head with television at night, because I will have things that must be written, like first a book proposal, then query letters to agents, and finally, each chapter of my book.
Back to the sex part, a healthy and fit body will help with intimacy between Red Beard and me, because we all know how much better sex feels when we're feeling bold and confident and strong. Diet and exercise aren’t sounding so bad now that I put all the benefits into context.
I finally have my head around the idea that I can do this for the rest of my life, and it no longer sounds like a prison sentence. Actually, it sounds like a marvelous existence.