Ever since my father passed on to whatever awaits us, I have been thinking more about my health and living healthier, etc. etc.
Now, my job does not lend itself to a healthy existence (I sit at a door desk, examining communications, compiling data, gathering metrics, responding to questions, engaging internal teams, and so on through a docked laptop and 3 monitors…5 days a week, around 9.5 to 10.5 hours a day). When I get home, I unplug from work by going into the man cave, plopping into my cushy chair, watching a streaming service on a big screen TV and eating dinner (and, no, the irony is not lost to me in this statement).
So, besides re-evaluating my snack habits and my food choices with more objectivity, I decided to download “ManFit” (cut to you snickering over the app name). ManFit carries with it exercises you can do at home without going to a gym (I’m very curious to see what these turn out to be). It offers the typical categories of your body that you want to work on.
Next on the list is the evil one….specter of doom….root of all ego-shriveling evil…Satan’s Son….a bathroom scale. I’ll wait while you recover from the shock and horror of this monster….
The last on the list is the most difficult of all points to this whole nightmare scenario: My own motivation to change. As much as I would like to think that I have the intelligence to engage in what should be an easy win from the obvious, longevity uplifting decision….I still fight the same fight most of us go through. The aspect of “Why bother?”, “What does it matter?”, “Who cares?”, “Why do I care?”, “What good will it do at my age?” all are haunting whispers in the complex web of my consciousness. That I have to actually work through the uninteresting routine of my day-to-day life with better “eyes” than what I have makes me squeamish to say the least. The stark realization that my lethargy and self-apathy have reach this level is the most uncomfortable situation in my own head than going to the company Christmas party full of people I barely recognize or even know.
Perhaps that type of brutal truth-in-self is what I need. However, the balance between self-objectivity versus driving yourself further into inaction because you’ve berated yourself to the point of infantilism is something to keep in mind.
To close, all I can really do is to carry on and at least attempt to do something different instead of doing absolutely nothing at all.