1980’s - My childhood consisted of He-Man, G.I. Joe, WWF wrestlers, 1985 Chicago Bears Super Bowl Champions, and comic book heroes; all characters brandishing muscle bound physiques. Even the Transformers seemed to somehow parade brawny bods. I was groomed into thinking muscle suggested strength, duh. But beyond that; strength and a killer physique equated to value, influence, importance, power, desire. As a 120 pound soaking wet highschool senior, I decided to pursue what I thought could be gained from flaunting a muscular physique. The act of working out and results attached did give me a sense of confidence, of importance, of ability… but unsustainably so, based on my intentions. Vanity. Of course there were benefits; first and foremost - chicks dig six packs, the sense of comradery shared between us gym buddies, physical capability, being strong & healthy. But those were mere benefits achieved from a healthy activity, driven by debilitated reason. I didn’t value myself enough as a person, a man, a soul, a spirit to consider I just may have had greater value outside of my physical appearance.
2014, three months after Jess passed and I’m Bedridden in Bolivia. (Good book title btw) My buddy Ryan and I joked, “Bolivia is trying to kill us.” I’m lying on a mattress as thick as a quarter playing back all the instructions, “Don’t drink the water, don’t brush your teeth with the water, pursue your lips and eyes while showering under the water, don’t eat vegetables irrigated with the water, don’t make fucking eye contact with the water.” So I had a piece of lettuce, the one plated on the side of your main course that’s kind of there for decoration. Now I’m three days into bodily fluid evacuation - code red. “Please keep calm, head to all available exits in an orderly fashion… Joe does not need a head’s up either just exit as you please.” Yeah, that was fun. My mental, spiritual, and emotional wellbeing was, well shit… a house of cards in the midst of a tornado. But this moment in Bolivia... this was my low point, the closest I came to giving up, entirely so.
Costa Rica some few months later, on my own now. I’m eating clean, swimming, hiking, surfing, climbing, working out, running - and I hate running. If I’m ever being chased I’m calling a timeout and asking my pursuer if we can just have a pushup contest instead of a race. I realized if I can’t control my mental, emotional, and spiritual wellbeing, as I didn’t know how to do this at the time, then there was one thing I could control - my physical wellbeing. By keeping this one thing in a positive space, I’d at least have this constant to rely upon as I wrestled grief. And I needed to be as strong as an ox to take on this opponent. When I’m healthy, strong, physically capable, my mind is easier to calm, not shifting into irritation, anger, impatience, etc. I feel better, and I am better at keeping positive and serene, crowding out negativity with healthy influence. Jess used to say, “Nothing tastes as good as healthy feels.” Her lesson still serves as a column of peace, awareness, wisdom, and even love… helping me each and every day.
Present day - Now, I eat clean, and find myself in the gym about 2-3 hours a week, (my meditation commitment is double this) with maybe a few swims tossed in for fun. International and domestic trips don't change my routine too much either, I find a gym or at least a way to stay fit. I take shameless gym selfies such as this one every 4-6 weeks to monitor change. Lifting is still an outlet these days; a healthy, well balanced activity, no longer an obsession. It doesn’t define my life, spilling influence over into every other facet. So I live too, like consuming 4000 very unhealthy calories 5 days straight this past visit to Chicago. No regrets, I know life is short, uncertain. So I explore, I enjoy, I celebrate. But I need that day of detox to re-orient my mind and body into a healthy lifestyle. And as I return to health & wellness; I explore, enjoy, and celebrate here too. This is my constant, a foundation supporting my spiritual & mental growth. The six pack is a byproduct, and yes chicks still dig it, but I don’t flaunt it on my Bumble profile;)
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