Whenever I’m on a business trip, I tend to think myself a bit of a rock star if I manage to get in a workout.
What did I do yesterday after I spent 7am to 6:30pm racing around a convention center?
I got my butt on a treadmill and ran four miles.
I can just imagine the look on your lovely faces right now. You’re impressed. I can tell.
But for every step forward -- for every rock star moment -- there are two, sometimes ten, steps backward.
I don’t know if you guys have ever done this… but this require you to be “on” 24/7. You’re at one event, then another, then another for hours on end. You communicate via walkie talkies (because you are actually that important). You, along with a dozen other people, are the heartbeat of the operation. You go go go. You stop only to pee and only when you’re certain that your bladder will erupt from the mounting pressure. You just keep going.
Which is why when one sees food, one thinks, “I better eat now, because who knows when I’ll see food again.”
It’s a baser level of existence. It’s primal instincts leftover from the cave days kicking into high gear. It’s survival mode. It’s kill or be killed (by your co-workers).
The only problem is… there’s always food. It’s literally every where, all the time and despite the fact that you just had a mediocre convention center lunch buffet, you sure as hell better grab a cookie because God knows when you are going to be able to eat again…
… Five minutes later.
I am literally eating as though I plan to give birth to triplets… like next week.
And there’s more shame where that came from…