There are worse things
Folks work out for a lot of different reasons. Hopefully, they do it for themselves and nobody else. This is why I do it.
The other day someone asked me why I work out. Now as the guy who owns The Core (a gym), you’d think I’d have some rapid-fire response that inspires and motivates. Uh, nope. Truth be told, I was a little stumped. So I showed them my “pregnant pythons” and replied nonsensically, “Gotta feed these ladies.” As they rolled their eyes, I made my escape.
Later that day I had a chance to think about my response. Was it vanity? I hope not. I’m happy with my body — I’m not as lean as I could be, but at 52 I’ve decided that beer, wine and bread are more important to me than 6-pack abs.
Do I work out for my health? My cholesterol is good, blood pressure is in line. The body mass index (BMI) and I don’t see eye to eye, but I refuse to buy into anything that claims a man at my age with around 15 percent body fat is obese.
Do I want to be the fittest guy around? I’m strong enough for what I do in the real world, so I don’t need to prove how much I can bench and squat anymore. I don’t need to personal record (PR) my row times, or be the fittest guy in the gym.
Am I eating more? As you probably know by now, you can’t outwork a shitty diet. However, knowing that doesn’t seem to stop me from trying sometimes.
I just like the way it makes me feel. It’s that simple. There’s a group of guys I’ve worked out with for the past 10 years. Working out with them is one of the best hours of my day.
Like all of us, I have many different versions of myself, and the “me” right after a workout is my favorite. I’m pumped, I’ve had 60 minutes to think about nothing but sets and reps. I’m hot, sweaty, my heart is racing as endorphins rush through my system. I feel good. I feel like I accomplished something. I feel like I deserve a beer.
So, there you have it. I work out so I can spend time with my friends, feel good about myself, and drink beer. There are worse things.
Thanks for reading.