In Search of Perfection

At night I crave a meal from a place called Kati Roll. It's Indian food wrapped in fresh Indian style bread or nan.  In this case I don't care about the rule of no carbs after 6:00pm. I'll work it off tomorrow.  No I'll vaporize it tomorrow. Besides, the way I see it, I'm just a regular guy who happens to be so active, I have no choice but to be a trainer.  I only have a six pack because I'm moving so much food can't stick to me.

I wake up at 5:50am.  That's late for me.  I have to be on the gym floor happy-bouncy-perky in 40 minutes. I splash water on my face and slap some Old Spice deodorant under my arms. I got my shower in last night and this quick ritual is all I need to wake up and roll out.

I throw on some shorts and grab a fresh t-shirt. Into my bag goes a fruit salad I made Sunday, a package of turkey cold cuts and an apple. Too much fruit (I know) but I'll buy my greens later. Green vegetables are the toughest to travel with and keep fresh anyway. And so begins another day in New York City.  I got this.  I'm on point.  I walk out the door, it's 6:08am. As I close the door my girlfriend reminds me I need to kiss her goodby and to take an umbrella, there's a 50% chance of rain this morning. And there it is, the hidden lesson: I can't do this all by myself.