Your life is in your own hands

I’m 43 and one of the promises I made to myself early on is to take care of my body as I get older. Is it easy? Well, working out isn’t easy. It also shouldn’t be. There is nothing wrong with struggling a little bit to see positive results. I know that when I get a little soft around the middle that it’s because I’ve been indulging in too much, well, beer. I eat rather healthy, so it’s always beer. I don’t blame anyone else for it, but me.

Let me repeat: When I’m carrying a few extra pounds around the middle it’s because I’ve been drinking too much beer. There’s no mystery to me. I know exactly why. I also know how bad it feels to carry a little extra weight around the middle, how uncomfortable I feel when I have to fit into my clothes, and so, what I do is I quit indulging and I become more disciplined.

I’m often shocked at the lack of care most people give to their minds and bodies.

For years I’ve gone to bars in Toronto and have interacted with some rather strange people, all the while trying to keep an open mind.

They drink too much, engage in drug use to drink some more, sleep with their colleagues; all of this in an effort to stave off boredom. They don’t read, or interact with their environment, and if they do it’s in conjunction with abusing substances.

Last summer I had a bartender friend of mine ask if she and her husband could come visit the cottage. I had to explain to her that we don’t get drunk and high at our cottage. It’s not going to be a party. We relax, read, swim, kayak, run, but we don’t ‘party’. I didn’t hear from her after that. She lost interest in coming. And that was fine with me.

That’s how these types view a weekend away in cottage country — it’s one big party, where they can indulge too much on alcohol and drugs and creating silly, frivolous and stupid memories of debauchery. They think that makes life interesting, I suppose. However, I don’t share those beliefs. For me, the best parts of life, are the simple pleasures. Not getting inebriated, or stupid like they do.

They don’t attempt to better themselves. They reach 40 and have nothing because they’re still behaving like they’re 21. They’re intellectually, emotionally and spiritually stunted. Everything in their lives is designed to extend their adolescence well into middle age and to blame the “system” for keeping them down. No, they kept themselves down by focusing on all the wrong things in life. Essentially they’re immature, they either don’t have the cognitive ability to reach higher or they don’t care to.

They eat shit food and have a really terrible relationship with almost everyone in their vicinity. They can’t even be bothered to make a healthy meal because that’s too much work for them.

Walking is too much work. Any effort is too much work. Best to blame the government for that.

My friend is in California with her husband and daughter and posting pictures on social media of their adventures. They’re 48 and fit. And it makes me smile that they’re down there representing Canada so well. But sadly they are the minority. They’re surrounded by obesity which now makes up 63% of the population. This has not gone unnoticed by them, either.

It’s not natural. It’s not healthy. It’s not easy to take care of yourself but it is worth it! The obesity rates in Canada are frightening, yet so many refuse to do anything about it. They want everyone to believe they’re beautiful. That being obese is natural and hey, they don’t eat that much. Of course they do.

So much of our society is now about denying reality to spare the feelings of those who can’t be bothered to put in any effort. I won’t capitulate to this madness. It’s disrespectful to ask everyone around you to lie for you, personally. But that’s where we find ourselves, in 2022.

I suppose it’s a symptom of living in a comfortable society where we can outsource any type of labour. Don’t want to make your food, order in. Don’t want to clean your house, hire someone else to do it.

I’m simply not built that way. Perhaps it’s my immigrant background, my dad was a barber. I was told to work for everything, and I do.

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