And so it begins.  There’s a first time for everything and this most definitely is unchartered waters that I’m swimming in.  It’s MY FIRST DIET…EVER!  Truth be told, it’s more of a fitness plan; the brainchild of Trainer Emeritus Mike “Mr. Fabulous” Romano.

Mikey, I see a lot of fruits and something called vegetables here but the primary food group called barley malt seems to be missing.  Hmmm.   Does this really mean that I can’t wash my mouthwatering flaxseed dipped carrot stick down with an ice cold Bud?  Seriously?

Well, I’m not a quitter, Mr. Romano.  Actually, I guess I kind of am, but I’ll see this through.   What else is on the list?  Sweet potatoes, Greek yogurt, broccoli, grilled chicken and tuna fish.  That all sounds…delightful.

You hear people say all the time that the hardest thing in the world to do is stick to a diet.  I’m here to say that if you truly believe that in your heart, then you have never watched the Chicago Cubs play baseball.

Mikey, as with anything else, I’m sure you allow for some minor changes or concessions and with that I’m taking the liberty of switching out the sweet potatoes for French fries. Both being in the potato family, I’m sure you won’t have a problem with this.  If I can be honest here, Mikey, I tried the grilled chicken and it didn’t send me into a world of gastronomical orgasm.  There were no stars and not a single craving for a cigarette, so I took the chicken and tossed it on the grill and fried that sucker up.  Much, much better, and it’s still chicken right, so right no harm, no foul.

Mikey, I know you said if I stick to this I’ll look almost as fabulous as you by the 4th of July and one could only hope that would become reality and that the world will reopen by them.  Hey, how come that Starbucks Double Latté Frappuccino thingie that seems to be surgically attached to your hand is nowhere to be found on this fitness plan?  Weird, huh? It’s probably just as well. If I could afford one of those everyday, I’d probably do something foolish with the money like make a mortgage payment or something.

Whoa, hang on. It looks like it’s time for another delectable glob of cottage cheese.  I’m so into this that I gave myself a major pep talk in the bathroom mirror last night, repeating ‘I CAN DO THIS, I CAN DO THIS, DAMNIT. NO QUIT. NO QUIT,’ Then it wasn’t long before I stopped, shook my head and said, “Holy crap! I can’t believe I’m talking to myself in the mirror!”   Hey, whatever it takes. There’s no quit in this soon to be manly specimen.

I’m pretty sure now that I’ll be able to handle the remainder of this deprivation nightmare that you’ve placed me on…um, I mean, this wonderful fitness high that I’m experiencing.

Let’s go for the gold, but, in the event that that option is removed from the table, bronze would be nice as well.  Gotta go. It looks like my chicken’s ready. This time I diced up a Slim Jim and cooked it on top. Yum! I’ll give you the recipe.  Don’t worry, Mikey, I’ll make you proud!

Hey, Mikey, please tell me again about how you ‘beasted’ the last Tough Mudder you ran in two hours and eighteen minutes, all with a hangover, broken leg and a dislocated shoulder.  That was neat. I want to be you when I grow up.




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