So there I was. Minding my own goddamn business. Sweating. Puking. You know, a typical Monday at CrossFit. Yes, I went to the Whole9 nutrition seminar a couple weeks ago and ogled Melissa Urban. I didn't go because I was interested in nutrition. I'll be brutally honest. I wanted to see her butt in person.
It did not disappoint.
However, the gym I go to (www.crossfitmn.com) decided to create a challenge. The Whole30 Nutrition Challenge. 30 days of eating clean. Like... Super clean. I wasn't going to participate because, let's face it, when it comes to ingesting substances I have little to no will power. Especially when those substances are tasty like bread, pasta, cheese, beer, or whisky.
I woke up this morning not expecting to be threatened into a diet by a Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu black belt. Maybe threatened isn't the right word. Threatened is when you find yourself in the woods and spot a cute little black bear cub, so you run up to it and squeeze it like a plush toy, only to find out that the mama bear is about ten feet away from you and hungry. Now pretend that there's another, bigger, bear behind the mama bear and it's holding a chainsaw that is on fire and shaking its head slowly from side to side with a look that says "You know you done fucked up now, right?"
Yeah. That.
So I'm doing this challenge. I have to go home and take a few pictures of myself to get cracking. I may or may not post them. I'm leaning towards "NO," in the event that I ever decide to run for public office. Unless my campaign slogan is "Vote for Oie, he drinks butter." It could fly in Wisconsin.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment