I read a pretty "punchy" blog post from fitness and strength coach Taylor Simon. He’s a pretty straight-shootin’, no-punches-pulled Coach whose main focus is cutting through the crap in the fitness industry and delivering honest fitness information!
So, as we start February, as we start this week and as we start our day, here’s a little excerpt, and maybe a little gut check from one of Coach Taylor`s blogs (you can read the full post here) revolving around the rationalizations and justifications that we give ourselves as we slide down the super-sweet, slippery slope of treat consumption.
WARNING: Explicit language and possibly offensive points of reference (maybe that in itself is awakening).
You Don’t Know What a Treat Is
Treat /tret/: defn: an event or item that is out of the ordinary and gives great pleasure
You know the part about great pleasure. Chocolate tastes good. Wine goes down smooth. Nachos and wings are delicious. Cookies should be their own food group.
But you missed a part I think.
‘An event or item that is out of the ordinary’
100 years ago you had cake on your birthday and maybe a family member or two. 70 years ago you had a milkshake a few times a year at the drugstore soda fountain. 20 years ago you ordered Chinese food (the nasty deep fried North American version) a couple times a year as a family or at a party.
Today is different. EVERY SINGLE FUCKING DAY you are exposed to ‘treats’. Donuts and chocolate milk on the way home from your kids sporting events. Trays of cookies in the office lounge. Bags of chips in the cupboard.
Every. Single. Day.
That’s without dinners and events every weekend or birthday parties, anniversaries, baby showers, sports events, holidays, and the plethora of celebratory events.
‘Treats’ are something out of the ordinary. If it happens more than once a month it is no longer out of the ordinary. Stop saying treat. You aren’t having a treat.
It comes down to sacrifice and commitment, like we talked about earlier. Come on. You’re a grown ass adult making their own decisions. Don’t delude yourself in an attempt to justify the fact you are fully responsible for the shit you plow into your mouth.
You are just eating shit. And that’s fine. I don’t care. It’s your life. Don’t cry over the blubber hanging over your belt though.