Two bad tastes, that taste bad together.
Every once in a while, a genuine life-improving opportunity presents itself. Most of the time, this requires a drastic change, which can be daunting because it tends to challenge long-held assumptions about ourselves. Once these vanish, we are left with a clear-eyed but uneasy sense of who we are. It is the moment when we see our deepest flaws most visibly. For me, this opportunity comes in the form of a 90 day fitness challenge. Ideally, this will get me in shape for a fight which I plan on taking later this year.
As you might expect, training for a fight requires complex decisions with many variables. To be honest, this process could be as easy as showing up to practice and doing what I am told. But that would go against my core belief that I can produce a desired effect by my own actions, which are reinforced by experience, trial and error, and calculated experimentation. That is not a problem in itself but being successful requires the support of coaches, sparring partners, friends and family. If it takes a village to raise a child, it takes at least that many people to make a fighter. I think you see a dichotomy forming and a major flaw revealed. I am stubborn and fiercely independent, learning lessons the hard way, usually more than once. Even as child I loved my own counsel best, much to the consternation of my parents and teachers. Facing that aspect, though, will be less difficult than facing the one which has been an albatross around my neck (for most of my adult life). I have always hated cardio with a passion rivaled only by my love of food.
The frustration of relinquishing control over my diet and exercise can only be explained thusly: Imagine, if you will, a moonlit night on which I am running from a leopard, a lion and a she-wolf only to stumble upon my coach in a dark wood. He promises to lead me on a journey through hell, each circle more terrifying than the last. Unlike Dante, I would look on all of the damned and see only myself slaving away on various cardio machines while my tormenters feasted on General Tso Chicken: A harsh punishment for my sins. Like Dante, my path to paradise is paved with drastic change.