Retirement Will Kill Ya

Just Passing Through Podcast

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Episode 161

So there I was, a disciplined warrior of fitness and health, a paragon of self-control, fasting until 2 PM like a monk on a spiritual quest. I was the kind of person who could walk past a donut shop without even a twitch in my resolve. But then, I got a peek behind the curtain of retirement life. Four days off—four glorious, structure-free days. What could go wrong?

Turns out, everything.

Day one, I woke up with the sun shining through the windows, the birds chirping outside, and I thought, "You know what? I deserve a treat." Next thing I know, I'm face-deep in a bowl 12 PM, feeling like a rebel without a cause. The gym? A distant memory. I traded my kettlebells for the TV remote, and my workout gear for pajamas—yes, the ones with the elastic waistband because, well, you know.

Day two, I was firmly entrenched in the chaos. Breakfast? Why not. Second breakfast? Sure. Elevensies? Don't mind if I do! My fridge, which once housed kale, quinoa, and righteous intentions, was now a crime scene of leftover pizza and half-eaten bags of chips. I wasn't just off the wagon; I was driving it straight into the nearest fast-food drive-thru.

By day three, I was on a first-name basis with the delivery guy. I forgot what "clean eating" even meant—was it when you wipe the crumbs off your shirt before grabbing the next snack? And lifting? The only thing I lifted was the lid of another box of donuts. My muscles started texting me, "Miss you, bro." I left them on read.

Day four arrived, and I realized I had become the very thing I swore to destroy: a retiree without a mission. I had fallen so far, so fast, that I half-expected to find myself in one of those "Before" pictures on a fitness ad. You know, the kind where the guy looks like he’s been wrestling with doughnuts instead of dumbbells.

But as I clawed my way back to the land of structure and discipline, I learned a valuable lesson: Life without routine is like a treadmill with no speed control—you either stand still or fly off into the junk food aisle. Retirement might be a long way off, but I've seen the darkness that lies beyond the 9-to-5, and let me tell you, it's paved with potato chips and procrastination.

So, here’s to getting back on track, one broccoli floret at a time. Because chaos is fun for a weekend, but I'd rather spend my golden years lifting weights than lifting pizza boxes.
Put it Off - Dolly Parton
Suede - Trash

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