So here I sit, four days out from my meet. I’ve met my goal weight, my lifts look promising, and I look better than I have in years. So I should feel great, right? I feel….rotten. Not sick or anything, more rotten in a literal sense. Hollow, weak, tired, and irritated. I heard a story recently about a body building couple that found themselves in the same predicament. They had trained their brains out, dieted like maniacs, and gotten great results. They looked fantastic, best shape of their lives! However, they were completely exhausted, crabby, and had zero sex drive. So even though they could scale mountains (or at least steep hills), impress even the most casual observer with their muscles, and undoubtedly give a stellar performance in the sack…..neither one of them wanted anything to do with it. The mere thought of a romp in the hay was brining today’s blenderized chicken back up for a revisit.
I can sympathize. All sorts of personal interaction have become increasingly less attractive. Conversations just seem like work, normal daily activities are just walking temptations that I’d rather skip all together, and any form a kindness just seems like a huge pain in the ass. I would even say that I feel like I’ve had a full on personality removal. My normally dry sense of humor just comes across as, “seriously buddy, just do us all a favor and shut your pie hole”, or “eff off, can’t you see I’m exhausted over here.” I’ve lost my ability to even fake it, which is saying a lot. I’ve spent most of my life claiming to be a master in the art of deception. But now days, I’m just too hungry to care.
“So you can take that cookie….and stick it up your a……”