Reflecting On ‘Healthy Eating’, Walking Long Distances And Enjoying Port Salut And Whiskey On A Friday Evening.
It will all be kicking off tonight I can tell you.
I’ll be getting off my face on Tesco Reserve Whiskey and Port Salut cheese later tonight. Two dietary staples for anyone wanting to run a marathon between the finishing times of 4 hours 54 minutes and 3 days 15 seconds.
It’s been a strange old day today. Had a walk around town to stretch my legs a little and fortunately it didn’t rain much.
I even managed 15,000 steps on my FitBit Ultra. Not a bad performance overall.
I’ve been thinking more about my diet and it’s something that tends to shock/amuse others when I tell them about what I eat. To me it’s all part of the lifestyle I want to lead. Running enables me to eat how I want and eating what I want leads me to run it off.
I’m setting my heart up to go supernovae soon I bet, but what does it matter? I think my heart would do the same if I was forced into a regime of eating fruit and vegetables. I don’t give a fuck if people say they are healthy or good for you, when I think about eating them, part of me dies.
Sure, our ancestors ate nothing but nuts, fruits, vegetables and salads, but they were fucking apes and lived in their own shit and died at 20.
I don’t think we should be regressing diet wise. I think we should be consuming MORE FUCKING SUGAR. We’ll see where that one takes us. We’ll set our brains on fire and discover the Theory Of Everything whilst shitting out the last of our Lucky Charms.
Eating healthily won’t guarantee you either eternal life or a good life. They won’t put your average calorie/carbs/protein intake per day on your gravestone. Or your weight.
I’ll eat what what I want and deal with the consequences later. I’ll let my Doctor leave a Trackback to this post in 2029 when I’m diagnosed with rickets, scurvy and a third ingrown asshole.
In the meantime I’ll continue to search for the best life for myself and feel no guilt for trying it my way.