Week Uno.

So, one week down…

An eternity to go…

Wow, this sucks.

 SOUb0n

Umm, it wasn’t as difficult as I am making it out to be, it’s just that I beat myself up for setting astronomical expectations and not meeting them, when, it is flat out clear as day, that I have no will power or follow through and this is what I am setting out to change. 

So, with that being said, the week went about as shitty as I thought it would.

I worked out about 3 times, if you could even call it a workout???

Look, I just know that i got really sweaty and did like 7 bench presses. 

giphy-9

As far as my diet… 

Well…

Again, just as I thought…

TRASH.

I went for like 2 days of watching what I ate and then came the weekend…

 MiikC

I ate a whole pizza on Friday night and went in on the free beers (that downtown HEB happy hour pizza tho). 

Then, Saturday, part 2 of my pizza rampage. 

I inhaled another whole leftover pizza before noon. 

Had myself a brief hibernation, then woke up at Mama Margies for chips, queso, nachos and margaritas.

But wait, there’s more!!!

Came home, took a few hits on a blunt, drank some more soda, napped it up again, then found myself at Bonds Rock Bar slamming down a few A.O’s **in my douchiest gymrat voice**.

And ending the night at Jack In The Box eating a sourdough jack and STILL eating the last two slices of pizza from the reminisce of Hurricane Jonathan that tore up the two large pizzas in the past 24 hours.

Sunday morning, I only had 5 homemade tacos as I downgraded to recovery mode of the massacre I just pulled.

Regrets =

0.

Zilch.

Nada.

Pounds gained =

74.

Steps took back from a promising start to my 7 month march to the Spartan Race =

 giphy-10

 Let’s just round up to a very high number of your choosing.

Like I said from the jump, I know that this was going to be the hardest part of my journey. I just love to fucking eat, man. And I have little to absolutely no fricken self control at all. So once some good food goes around my mouth and I have that first sip of an ice cold beer or soda..

 tenor-2

GAME OVER.

IT IS DONE.

I AM DEAD.

DEAD AS A DOORNAIL, SMALLS.

So I have been listening to podcast and reading articles about emotional eating and creating good habits and the better understanding of how your body and mind react subconsciously to everyday occurrences. Just to help me not put myself in those positions and not act like that rabid raccoon that I described myself as.

Now, I know what a lot of people are thinking.

“Don’t go around that kind of food or drinks”.

But this isn’t the damn Brady Bunch and I don’t live with and around people who have been counseled by Dr. Phil on the importance of being supportive.

This is real life.

I have a wife, two kids and alcoholics a plenty deep in my family tree and on my speed dial.   

So, things get rough and real difficult and everyone DOES NOT want the same things out of life that I want.

AND THIS IS OKAY.

We all have our separate paths and journeys to go on.

For instance, Vegans, hey buddy, you do you boo boo and I love you too. But I’m not gonna quit eating fajita tacos for you and what your trying to do. Just as I expect you not to inconvenience yourself for my purpose and what I want to do in life.

You vegans make it out here in the great state of beef eating and loving TEXAS just fine with no help or support of 96% of us.

I am going to have to make it through the mother fucking Big Red guzzling, taco stuffing, beer slamming southside of San Antonio without crying or complaining for support of what I want to do too.

So there goes the dieting failures of my week and the extreme ownership of what I did and plan to do to handle it.

That is that, tomorrow I will fill in on what I did emotionally and grown up-ly to lay down a solid foundation to long term success of what I am trying to do.

Even with this mega bomb failure.

Be easy and get shit done.

Thanks for reading.

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