Tuesday, April 6, 2010

A Gay in the Life: You aren't what you eat

Posted By on Tue, Apr 6, 2010 at 8:17 AM

click to enlarge Food

I knew it was time to start working out when my friend started her diet.

I don't think I'm fat or anything, but in the last few years I've gone from being a server to sitting at a desk all day — and in my friend's quest for a firmer tail, she's started eating Subway every day.

She gets a cookie with her sub, which doesn't fit into her diet, so guess who eats it?

Me. Every day. (I've never met a cookie I didn't like.)

I love food. French fries. Pizza. Cheez-Its. Oh, Cheez-Its. I could write a sonnet.

But a healthy love for food doesn't make a healthy person — mentally or physically. But neither does exercise. At least not by itself.

I've seen the love of food turn man into monster and woman into warrior. I've even seen my boyfriend nearly deck Cinderella for not being a chicken tender — at the Happiest Place on Earth — because we'd walked for hours on an empty stomach on our trip to Disney World. (Food's really expensive there.)

And I can't tell you how many people I've seen act like they'd won the lottery when I announced "tonight's special" as their server. Food's great, but it shouldn't give you an orgasm. And neither should your reflection, no matter how long you've been dating the gym.

When my boyfriend and I first moved to Florida we met a man at a club by the name of I'd-had-a-few-beers. (Not his real name, but I'd had a few and, like that night, can't remember it.)

He was pretty muscular, and not bad-looking for being 4'9", and within five minutes informed us that we were a cute couple. He then informed us that he didn't need a boyfriend — we both already had one, so that was fine — and afterwards, told us why.

He had a mirror. That he liked to, uh... pleasure himself in front of.

Nice to meet you?

I'm happy that these people have something that does it for them, but personally I'd rather find the right balance between a love of exercise and food and have someone else do it for me.

My boyfriend and I recently started working out together. It makes it easier to not hate the gym, and it makes it easier to not overdo it: on food or exercise. We hold each other accountable. I love hanging out with him and, most importantly, there's cable. And it's been a long time since we've had cable. We even watched the Oprah-narrated LIFE. (What is it about her voice that can make you care about anything?)

Every night we walk to our apartment complex's fitness center. Initially I wanted to drive, but he informed me that was a tad counter-productive... being a four-minute walk and all. I'll lift, he'll treadmill. He'll treadmill, I'll lift.

I'm definitely not on my way to having Taylor Lautner's abs, and I think I'd still rather have an Oreo — but I've even begun looking forward to it. I feel productive. I feel great. I wake up more refreshed in the morning, I'm more confident throughout my day, I sleep better at night and again, there's cable. My boyfriend feels great, too.

No. He feels great. I can't stop touching him.

I have no immediate plans to forsake my friend's cookies — and don't worry, Cheez-Its, we're still tight — but since my boyfriend and I began our routine, I don't feel a need to pretend I want a salad from McDonald's. (Not that I ever really did.)

You can love whatever food you want, and even love exercising, without scaring a waiter into submission or having to purchase Windex in bulk. Your minds and your mirror's can be clean. Everything in moderation.

You don't have to be what you eat.

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