There are certain things you cannot put together…

and expect both of them to work out just right.

For instance, today, my pal Colin and I went to White Castle. Together, we ordered 20 sliders (with cheese), two massive diet cokes (diet? yes.), and four sets of french fries. To my credit, I only ate seven of the sliders (with cheese). Working directly against me, I ate two sets of fries and finished my 32 ounce diet coke.

No cheese on these sliders, but you get the idea.

My other idea for the day was to exercise over at the Y. Two hours after finishing my White Castle, I was on a treadmill. Suffering. I nearly crapped my pants, if I’m being completely honest. And why not? Every muscle and fiber fought against me. It was terrible. In fact, so bad, I couldn’t really complete a work out (tiny bit of awful cardio followed by awful weight lifting).

Here I am getting carried out of the gym. Not really.

I always blamed my bad work-out days on smoking. I think, after today (and having not smoked for 26 days), I have to look at some of my other ridiculous proclivities (downing 5000 calories of steamed sandwich for lunch, for instance).

Victory will be mine.

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