When I first got sober, I was in terrible shape. I was pale, pudgy, and soft as a marshmallow. I could barely walk up a flight of stairs without panting. I suffered from horrible stomach pains morning, noon, and night. I experienced frequent migraines. I couldn't sleep. My diet consisted mostly of cheeseburgers, ramen noodles, soda, and milkshakes. I was still smoking cigarettes.
The idea of exercising and eating healthy was the farthest thing from my mind when I was drinking. You could just as easily have asked me to saw off my thumb with a butter knife. Exercise at that stage consisted of walking to the liquor store for the third bottle of wine or running up the stairs to my drug dealer's apartment. That was as far as my workout routine ever went.
After a few months of sobriety, I made a conscious decision that I was going to get physically (and mentally) fit!
But how would I begin this miraculous transformation? There was still a lot of damage to repair. I felt like a decrepit, old car that had been sitting in the backyard for decades, abandoned and overrun by rust and decay. Rebuilding and repairing the Jalopy called my body was going to be a daunting task.
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