While I was in Greenville for work I ran into a former co-worker who now works for the same company that I do. Life works out that way. We shook hands and hugged on the street of the beautiful downtown area and then he commented on the fact that I had gained weight. Apparently it made him do a double-take.
I hadn’t gone on a bike ride since before my surgery during the first week of July; the comment about my weight inspired me to get back on my bike this morning. I enjoyed a nice 13 mile bike ride through the local SUNY campus and around the quiet streets of suburbia. I feel good after my bike ride and I’m planning on finding the stamina to get back into my routine this week. Hopefully my body will cooperate and not go all wonky in my sensitive parts. I’m determined to not have that surgery ever again.
On the road for work this past week I discovered that it’s nearly impossible to eat healthy at most restaurants scattered throughout this fine country of ours. Portions are gigantic and I always give into the temptation to clean my plate. Whenever I watch one of those foolish food competition programs, where the judge eats one spoonful of a gorgeous plate of food, I want to slap the taster right across the face and/or throw a living room lamp. The waste of delicious food, right there in technicolor.
I hate to admit it but the comment about my weight gain stung a bit. I’d like to think that I fit into the growing popularity of the “Dad Bod”, but to label myself in such a way would be silly since I’ve never really been that fit in my life. Yeah, I can put a thousand or so miles on my bike during a riding season, but I’ve never been one to be that muscular; I’d rather throw the aforementioned lamp instead of hurling a Volkswagen or something.
Nevertheless, I’m going to try for the bajillionth time to eat healthy again. The trend should last a day or two until I start reading another article about the acceptance of the Dad Bod.
Rationalization is beautiful.