I do it, and I do it big. Here's to not forgetting about it.

And out of my fridge.

All kidding aside, there are times I must simply marvel at the things I do or don’t do. It’s so awesome that I know I didn’t do it by myself. In Him alone am I strong.

I last wrote that I’ve not been training how I like. This means I’ve had some extra time for which I did not plan. How’s the saying go again – idle hands are a fat ass’s workshop? I’m living proof. I’ve definitely been humbled these past few days, in that I was pleased that I had stopped thinking working out gives me the right to eat whatever I want. Turns out I’m even more twisted than that. I figure – I’m not working out. What else is there to do but eat. Why should I bother eating healthily? It’s not as though, oh, the 14-15 hours I’m awake and not training are worth fueling well.

I KNOW that some of my anxiety to get back to training has to do with the fact that I’m concerned about regaining the weight I’ve lost. I genuinely do miss the rush and endorphins that training brings. I love that I have reached a point where not training feels unnatural. However, eating right for the sake of doing so – just because it’s good for me – is still very foreign to me. It’s as though the muscle memory of my previously unhealthy lifestyle wants to kick in and I feel too tired to fight it.

Incidentally, triathlon actually keeps me on the streets via bike and run. Maybe this was not an aptly chosen title. Pray for me, y’all.


Comments on: "Jesus and Triathlon keep me off the streets." (1)

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