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Burgers & Pizza . . .

There is a serendipitous result that comes when one has transformed his or her body. I never thought much about how I would be viewed, and if not for my wife, my journey might never have started.  

It’s been over a decade and my physique looks nothing similar to what it once did. One can look in the mirror, but yet be blind, to what it actually reveals.  

I did not take any before nor after pictures during my transformation journey. The only clue that something has really changed is how I am viewed by others. 

An innocuous event happened at the barbershop which prompted me to dwell on it. My barber is very meticulous at his craft. Each person that sits in his chair is there for no less than forty-five minutes. I am accustomed to waiting even if I arrived at the appointed time we had agreed upon for my haircut. 

This particular day was no different. He was cutting a patron’s hair when I arrived. I inquired how many he had before me, and he indicated that I would be next. Knowing his proclivity for exactness, and seeing that the barbershop had gone through a transformation of its own; I sat down at a huge table. 

The oversized table fit in nicely with the six 65-inch televisions that adorned the walls. What made the table useful was the USB charging connections. I had just plugged in my iPad, and was getting ready to write an article, when one of the barbers sat opposite me.  

He placed a package on the table. He ripped wildly at the Amazon bag. He was overeager to remove its contents. At last, a diminutive box was revealed. He tore open the box, and marveled at its contents. He sprang from the table, and returned with a knife, a banana, and a bag of fresh strawberries. 

I had seen this particular barber numerous times. His chair was next to my barber’s. In the countless times we’ve seen each other, he never uttered a word, until that moment. 

“People eat burgers and pizza,” he said, while cutting strawberries over the miniature blender, “then wonder why they look the way the look. Hey, don’t you agree?” 

I had been watching the aforementioned scene through the corner of my eye, and was surprised that his statement was directed at me. I nodded. I was about to reply, when my barber motioned me to his chair. 

Perhaps, he had wanted to get a point across. He went to his station and plugged in the blender. Took a couple of sips, while the other barbers ribbed him about drinking from a baby blender. 

“They don’t know about this,” he said, in my direction. “Let them eat their burgers and pizza. What do they know about being fit like us?” 

I repeated his statement quietly to myself, “What do they know about . . . 

B.M.Booth 

Knife & Fork (Happy Thanksgiving)

The merriment of yet another season. It officially starts with Thanksgiving, followed by Christmas, and ultimately ends with New Year’s Eve. 

It is at this time of the year that most individuals, who are disciplined in watching what they consume, fall victim to the holidays and ingest food in incalculable proportions. I chronicled my own episode in the “Christmas Glutton”

This year, I decided if I was going to eat more at the start of the holiday season, I would be more strategic in my consumption. Thanksgiving, I surmise, would be a great starting point. My wife and I went to one of our favorite delis, where I made a simple request. 

“No need to go overboard on the purchase of victuals,” I told her. “Keep the total under $100.” 

The delicacies in this particular deli over the years meant that purchases were well in excess of $300. What normally accompanied such a large expenditure was the guilt of not wanting to let the food or money go to waste by gorging ourselves unmercifully. 

Each time my wife would ask me about a particular salad, meat, or rice dish, I uttered, “buy a small amount.” 

“You can worry about dieting after the holidays,” the server laughed. “You’ve got Thanksgiving, Christmas, and then New Years, which all call for you to eat.” 

I laughed wholeheartedly for two reasons. She was a good salesperson. She readily agreed to any dish my wife pointed to, and with her pleasant demeanor, neither of us offered any resistance when she increased the requested amount by one or two. 

I’m quite sure if I hadn’t been present our tally would have amounted well in excess of $300 again, but we managed a compromise and walked away with $140 still in our possession. 

The formulation of an idea had begun the day before. It was a very simple yet calculated plan. I told my youngest daughter we were going to the gym in the morning. 

“I will call for you once,” I said, sternly. “If you do not heed the call, I will leave without you.” 

“I don’t only want to go this one time,” she sighed. “You’re so busy with your other clients, you don’t have time for me anymore.” 

Her statement had a ring of truth in it. Yes, I was busy with more clients, but her lack of carving out time between school and work had more to do with it. 

So, on Thanksgiving morn, I was true to my word, with one exception. I entered her room twice. The first time I roused her, she merely turned over. The second time, she gave me a definitive “no”. 

“Who leaves their family on Thanksgiving,” my wife admonishes, “and goes to the gym?” 

I thought her statement had some credence, which made me unique, but that thought quickly dashed as I entered the parking lot . . . 

B.M.Booth (NASM-CPT)