Being Healthy Is Downright Exhausting (And I Really Despise Kale)

It’s been forty-six days, fourteen hours, and nineteen minutes since I lasted tasted a triangular piece of heaven known as a Dorito chip. I guess I’m trying to get back into living a “healthier” lifestyle but I feel lost, misplaced, gone astray, to the point where I am asking myself this question daily: Man, Does living healthfully so you can be one hundred years old, and possibly alone, really fucking matter?

Let’s get the background story out of the way. I once lost up to a total of 90 pounds starting all the way back to the year of 2012. How you may ask? Through the tried and true Nubian god diet and workout plan that consists of eating spinach, running miles, and drinking Hennessey. (Please don’t try this at home, if you don’t want to be great).

It was the best of times and it was the worst of times, but the payoff I was looking for came just how I expected and once I hit the 90th pound threshold, a black leprechaun appeared with a pot of Now-and-Laters candy.

Now, having a heightened level of confidence, having energy to play basketball for longer than four minutes at a time, having the opposite sex leave heart eyes under more than one picture on Instagram, I felt like a new man. It was a pristine moment in my life. I felt like a beautiful black rose ready to be GQ’s man of the year.

I mean let’s be real, after years of being that big “funny guy with the nice personality” I wanted to see what life was like on the other side, where personality sometimes doesn’t even matter because honestly, nice guying your way to that whispering eye can be really fucking annoying. However, even though the feeling was great, I still for some odd reason didn’t feel satisfied.

For some reason, a new question popped up in my head: How in the fuck do fit people maintain this fit shit on a regular basis?

Like seriously, it’s exhausting, like being a single mother of three and getting a degree at The University of Phoenix at the same time. The maintenance, the counting calories, the practice of “mind over matter” (when at times I don’t even want my mind to matter or care), it’s all grueling.

And for what? To live long enough to give some grandkids money every Christmas and then hope that maybe they will call me just once before Jesus’ next birthday?

At times, the point of it all escapes me. Even in the bible, there is a verse from the book of good ol’ Marky Mark that reads, “For what does it profit a man to gain the whole world, but lose his soul?” And here I am, constantly questioning what I’m really gaining by eating kale when my heart and soul knows it’s fucking disgusting.

My soul wants junk food, and fried food. Running miles and miles? Knees sustaining persistent pounding when I come in contact with the ground is boring, and who the fuck really wants boring?

Like is this is what society wants? A plethora of boring, fit people walking around pushing Herbalife and planks? That sounds like having to sit through an episode of “King of The Hill” while your still in elementary school.

Basically, I had to take a step back from what I thought society wanted from me and get back into my own comfort zone of stability.

Now, I’m not endorsing the rhetoric that completely ignoring your health is the way to go, no siree. What you are reading though, are the thoughts of a man who wishes to just live within moderation. I had to find a balance, right in the middle of being a 24-hour-fitness trainer and having my own reality show where I can’t be moved out of my bedroom without a forklift, just for the sake of my own sanity.

Sure, the surge of the “Dad Bod” definitely helped in me becoming a little more comfortable, but I was already on my way to accepting that I will probably never be the fittest person on the planet.

And you know what, it’s totally fine. How did I get to this enlightenment of moderation? By looking inward and becoming secure with myself, with my image, before anyone else’s opinions affected it. Shit, even my own opinion heckling from the sidelines.

After seeing the highs and lows of trying to be healthy, I believe one should love and get in tuned with oneself before delving into the healthy journey. From my experience, a healthy lifestyle is an extremely difficult mission. If you half-ass it, you will never see the results you aim for.

If you go too hard at first, then let off the gas for just a second, you could lose all that you have gained. So be comfortable in your own skin. Live a little, eat a burger with onion rings on it every once in awhile. Then, go and run/walk/drag yourself through a mile if time permits.