It's day 31.... y'know, of a 30-day primal food challenge. In other words, I can eat whatever the hell I want today, but here I am at breakfast, post-gym, eating a meat/eggs/veggie combo that is paleo to its core. Pre-workout, I could have had a protein shake (i.e., non-paleo), but I didn't. I went for the coconut-milk/fruit combo that I started using during the challenge as a pre-workout fuel.
I mean....I am not really the kind of guy to come home and start stuffing chocolate cake in my mouth anyway, but my lack of a burning desire to jump off the challenge wagon, screaming, "Woooooooooooo!" with a beer in one hand and a slice of pizza in the other is kind of stunning even for me.
Yes, I would say that, if I give it any realistic thought, Vegas has the odds of me having a drink tonight at at least 75%, but, let's be serious...that means there is a one-in-four chance that I *won't*, and, really, I would have thought I would have been planning out that first post-challenge drink for days now ("Let's see.... In a hot tub, whisky, with Zooey Deschanel.... OK, I'm married, Zooey, so you have to go home, but the hot tub and whisky can stay.")
Seriously, I can't believe that other than probably, but not definitely, having a drink tonight, I can't really envision jumping off this wagon that has been so very very good to me.
And I still can't believe the "but not definitely" part of that last sentence.
25-year-old me would *so* not recognize 49-year-old me. I am stronger, faster and fitter than I was then. I do not binge on anything, not because I am not capable of it, but because...get this...I don't *want* to because it makes me feel like shit. In fact, I think the only similarity between those two versions of me is that both of 'em still dig loud punk rock.
Speaking of.... *these* boys need to get out on the road again.
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