Road to #Fitspo: Failure to launch

Now, I’m not entirely sure how to avoid the impression that I’m just another credulous mouth-breather partaking in yet another #newyearnewme phase. I can only say that I’ve never begun a year with the explicit aim of improving my health or appearance. That’s not to say that I lack any drive or motivation or even confidence, in fact, it might be said that this is a sign of good old-fashioned hubris – who needs a new years resolution if you’re already perfect, right? Well, this isn’t the case. It just so happens that I’ve never been particularly concerned with my image – of course I do make motions which resemble a sort of “maintenance”, but in simple terms I don’t pay that much attention to my looks. And for this reason, if I’m to be completely honest, it probably shows more than I’d be happy to admit. Let me illustrate it to you, dear reader:

My lifestyle for the last half-decade has been described in various different ways. Some have mentioned that it mostly appears pleasurable if not epicurean, others have (with a little too much conviction) called it stupid if not life-threatening. Now, I’m in no position to deny the latter description – for my diet has been, and still is, fairly fierce for cigarettes and alcohol; and I prefer my meals* to be full-fat, meat-infused, deep-fried or all of the above (*always upsized and washed down with something strong) – but, just as T’challa was born to be King of Wakanda, I have oftentimes felt that this lifestyle was customised especially for me. Nonetheless, I will admit to having noticed a slight dwindling in my lung capacity as well and an extra layer around the waist that, in all honesty, I’ve become fond of. Furthermore, there appears to have taken place, sometime in the last few years, a bout of muscular atrophy leaving my long angular frame resembling the term “skinny fat.”

Well, despite the strength of my confidence, the words “skinny-fat” hold a little more weight than they might appear to. Fitting. And so, it became apparent, to my inflicted ego that something had to be done. So, with the help of some friends, a very general list of goals came together:


  • Drink less
  • Quit smoking
  • Improve fitness
  • Increase strength
  • Improve general quality of body: increase muscle tone, lose unnecessary fat, better quality of skin
  • Whiten teeth
  • Raise overall appearance

Well, that list took a fair amount of mental stress to come up with and because I only knew one way to handle this stress, outside I went for a cigarette. During this slight excursion, it dawned on me that now it was decided that something should be done about this skinny-fat situation, it seemed, at least to me, that celebrations were in order, so i reserved my Friday night as the launch to my journey. But, of course, in order to begin my road to #fitspo on a positive note, I decided not to initiate the drinking until after I had attended a family gathering scheduled for Friday afternoon. “Good”! I thought, I was sure it would run on for at least a couple of hours and this would delay the time I would start my celebratory drinks and consequently limit my alcohol intake for the night. Things were looking good.

Come Friday, however, I saw that this family gathering rather resembled a family barbeque (I should’ve guessed that’s what it was by the phone call I received earlier from a cousin who was confirming my attendance and mentioned, in passing, that he had to stop at the butchers on his way there. Damn). I further noticed that my grandmother had spent the day slaving away in the kitchen, as grandmas do, to feed all her precious family members. Well, despite this new-found gusto for health and well-being I had developed over the last week or so, I felt it rude and offensive, as she was offering me a plate, to turn down a perfectly crafted meal laboured on by the frail hands of my grandma which worked so hard to start the family. So, only to be polite I accepted the plate. And just to make doubly sure not to offend her, I had another.

Funnily enough, just as I finished devouring my third plate (I really was trying to avoid the appearance of insensitivity, I swear), I felt an extraordinary thirst coming on. Now trust me, I looked all over (my immediate vicinity) for something to drink and just could not find anything. Furthermore the kitchen was very busy, I really didn’t want to get in the way of everyone who was in there working hard just for a silly glass of water. I did, however, spy that the fellas around the barbeque had a few gold and green bottles that looked like the solution to my problem. And if not anything else, I am a problem solver, so towards the thirst-quenching elixir I progressed.


Now, from this point on things are somewhat iffy. Maybe it was something I ate? In any case, I do remember finding myself in a bar, so my best guess is that my celebrations went ahead as scheduled. And spurred on by the knowledge that I was about to better myself, I had a few more drinks, accompanied by a few more cancer sticks, to savour the taste before my mission. Of course, this might be considered a bad start but, who the hell are you? And why are you judging me? And anyway, I worked so hard on my list of goals which is step in the right direction; and as Common said to Kanye: “slow motion is better than no motion.”