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This isn’t supposed to happen to me. This is supposed to happen to other people, but not me.
I feel like it was just yesterday that I was cleaning a whole entire $5 medium two-topping carryout pizza, washing it down with a six-pack of Shiner, and waking up with a flat stomach. Now I just walk by a burger joint, and I’m as bloated as a whale that washes onto shore and bakes in the sun for a few days until it makes the local news.
What happened? How did we get here? Did Chronos, the Greek Father of Time, curse me centuries ago? Am I destined to not enjoy delicious foods past 25? Do I really have to do things like count calories and buy a lame ass Apple watch, remember to charge the thing at night, and trick myself into thinking closing each of those circles is a fun and rewarding game of some sort?
People call wearable tech a “body hack”, but to me, the term “body hack” is just synonymous with “modern totalitarian shackles” that stop me from eating Cinnamon Toast Crunch out of a salad bowl before taking a midday nap. Still, I’d rather change my diet up a bit rather than become skinny-fat. I’ve made some drastic changes in response to my slowing metabolism.
1. I’ve cut soda out of my diet. You heard that right. That enamel-evaporating nectar of the gods doesn’t enter my body’s temple anymore. You should see the looks I get when I order a “whiskey water” at the bar; a mixture of shock and respect, as if I just ordered the drink version of the ending scene of Gran Torino with Clint Eastwood. I’ve kind of grown accustomed to the whiskey waters though. They’re not as strong so you can just shoot them back until you’re good and hamboned. An added bonus is that I feel like I’m Thomas Shelby from Peaky Blinders, but an unfortunate side effect is that I say the name “Grace” now with a low, raspy British accent. This has gotten mixed reviews.
What could I possibly be drinking with my food instead? Well, I hinted at it earlier, but I’ve made a discovery that may shock the world. Water is drinkable. That’s right people. It’s the same stuff in the toilet that splashes up your nether regions when you take your work dumps (you shouldn’t drink that exact water though). It’s not great, but I’ve conditioned myself like Pavlov’s dogs to get water instead of soda whenever I think to order soda. My self-control is off the charts, like a Jedi Grandmaster.
2. I’ve had to cut back on dairy also. I used to just chug from a gallon of cold whole milk from the fridge when I was thirsty, but I tried that recently and had some indigestion that would cause the U.N. to sanction me for using chemical attacks on my roommates. I also had a cheese plate out on a date recently with the same effect. So now I’m that psychopath that scrapes cheese off of pizza… It’s fewer calories that way, plus it stops me from being pregnant with farts. It’s a huge loss disguised as a win-win.
3. If you don’t hate me after that last one, this next one should do it: I’m not doing processed meat either. It’s awful. No more bacon, ham, hotdogs, sausages, salami, or beef jerky. I catch the most flak for this one, and it’s well deserved. I mean, I even hate myself for doing it. Even when the World Health Organization said processed meat caused cancer back in 2015, it didn’t stop me from eating sausage and bacon sandwiches with ham as patties. But when I started getting fat from it, I couldn’t do it anymore. Vanity’s weird.
From what I’ve read, all of these dietary changes aren’t necessary to stay in shape. You can still stay slim if you burn more calories than you put in. The only problem with that is that I’m lazy. I’m in a relationship with my laziness, and I’ve been told that in any good relationship, you have to compromise. To me, not eating something is way easier than eating it only to have to go work it off. Personally, the 10 minutes of heaven I get from eating a melted cheese and chocolate covered bacon waffle isn’t worth the hour+ of hell that is cardio I’d have to do afterward. Is this the correct way to live? Probably not, but love is all about sacrifices.
I might be freaking out for no reason. Ever since those beach pictures of Leonardo DiCaprio leaked, millions of slow-metabolism guys across the globe have rejoiced as dad bod culture has gained momentum in the zeitgeist. I think we’ve subliminally advertised the dad bod as “sexy” for long enough now that girls actually believe it. So that’s an avenue I can look forward to exploring in the future.
Still, I think the problem is that I’m scared of change. I’ve always been a skinny guy so going through these changes is freaking me out a bit. I think freaking out is a normal human response to change. So I’m scrambling to do what I can to be slim while not working too hard to stay that way.
In the meantime, you’ll find me fully supporting the dad bod culture in case that doesn’t work out..