A Growth. A Thickening of if you will.
Located neatly below my obliques is where the marks of champions should be. A firm waste, carefully crafted in congruence with a healthy lifestyle. From looking at my normal dress you couldn't tell, and in fact, the illusion of my perfect midsection may run through your mind. However, I know the truth.
I have love handles, and there is something I can do about it.
Ok, so I got the membership to the gym, and I'm becoming a regular face. So much so that the owner felt comfortable to tell me I need to diet to loose my lovies.
Physical fitness has a lot to do with lifestyle, and in order to get the results you've got to stick it all out.
Sure, I can work out and huff and puff in front of mirrors while listening to KISS. But if I continue to eat Whataburger late at night, and cheesecake at every endeavor, I will only compound the issue. It would be freshman year of undergrad all over again accept substitute the food for beer.
A 225 pound of bad ass with a belly.
On a trip into the capitalistic caverns of Wal-Mart I endeavored to solve this issue. My loathing of love handles, compiled with a viewing of the documentary Food Inc., has made me daftly paranoid about the foods I buy. Most of my time was spent in front of products trying to think where the food came from.
Were these chickens beaten??
Were these cows fed corn instead of their proper diet?
Wait! There's the organic section. Merdah. Too Expensive.
I did the best I could. Whole wheat bread, turkey, baked chips, orange juice, etc. I even sprung for a chai concentrate so that I could make my own lattes at home, and not spend 5 bucks at the cafes. The concentrate was right under 4$ and I have enough for at least 8 servings.
8x5 = 40$ at a cafe.
I'm saving a lot of money with this move, and perhaps the love handles of loved ones with my personal health crusade. Who knows!? Perhaps with the money I saved on chai I'll be able to afford those organic foods.