Content

Or rather, content with life, discontent with myself.

Content with life because, well, it’s good. I count myself as extremely lucky with the man that married, with the parents that bore me, and the life that made me. I’m not that bad looking, I’m driven, and I have people who help and support me. My job is great, my future is bright, and my possibilities are endless.

I’m impressed with myself if many ways, and although I’m strong considering, I want to be stronger. My highest wish right now is to get a regular thing going with my training, and that I stop eating so much. I need to learn that I feel great from training, and aweful from eating so much. Food is great, yes, and there’s a lot of it to enjoy, but it’s there to sustain me, not to run me. As for training, yes, it may be hard to find the motivations at times, but it’s not like I’ve ever regretted it. Next time I get the munchies I should train instead. If it’s twice in one day, I can do sit ups, or push ups, lunges, plank or squats.

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