Diet, Exercise and Thanksgiving
Painting by Elke Herholz, 2006
As Laree and I expect many of you are on the road, in the kitchen, at the dinner table or otherwise preoccupied, we offer you only our greeting and good wishes. God bless you all.
I’m thrilled. It’s Thanksgiving in the USA, a festive occasion highlighted by the gathering of family and friends and the consumption of food. I shall not be a thorn in your side and remind you to eat wisely and well, nor shall I caution you against overindulgence, and, thus, allow you to corrupt your dietary schedule and gain unwanted weight, overload your system and possibly cause digestive problems. Life is a marvelous gift, dear friends. Rejoice! Be free.
Neither shall I propose you train hard, or at all, on this holiday devoted to sharing and pleasant companionship. The barbells and dumbbells, the pulleys, racks and benches can wait. A missed workout here and a skipped workout there, a little strumming of fingers and a snooze when you could be blasting it at the gym is of no consequence, unless, of course, you’re serious about your training and pursuit of muscle and might. One day thrown to the wind, they say, can cause a typhoon, your training endeavors like so much loose debris blown to the four corners of the world: sloping shoulders where deltoid caps once stood out, a sagging pouch in place of rippling abdominals, thick horseshoe triceps replaced by a pair of floppy socks. What a waste, bombers, were it not Thanksgiving -- a day for giving thanks.
Though I know many a devoted musclebuilder whose one-day fiasco led to weeks and months of backsliding, loss of muscle shape, mass and power, broken marriages, lost careers and addictions, I refuse to persuade you to apply discipline, practice personal responsibility or respect your body and its wellbeing. It’s your precious life we’re talking about here, and the lives of those you love and directly influence. Who am I to be concerned and offer wholesome advice, care and support? I can only worry and hope and work my fingers to the bone. I can do no more.
Finally, get hold of yourself. Be strong and courageous. This is not the end. This day, too, will pass and we shall go on from here. Trust me. Smile. You can do this. Say out loud, “Happy Thanksgiving, world!” Don’t you feel better now?
Christmas is only a month away, bombers, in case you were making plans.
Fly... bye... DaveDid
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