Day Sixteen: Can I Get an Amen?

I drank the Kool-Aid.

No, not actual Kool-Aid (though it seems the perfect summertime non-boozy beverage; I prefer black cherry. You?) but the proverbial Kool-Aid. The PCP Kool-Aid. This is what I say in my head when people ask me about the PCP, and I try to explain with a simple statement: "Oh, it's this exercise/diet/blog thing I'm doing to get into shape." But then they ask more questions, and before you know it, I sound like a PCP apostle evangelizing about real food and exercising using your own body weight and that you can do it anywhere! No excuses! And that it's tough but I believe, I just have to keep the faith ... blah bla bla.

Then people seem to have this simultaneous look of admiration and fear in their eyes as they listen. I could never do that, they tell me. Or Good for you! That's inspiring! And as much as I'm telling them, I'm telling myself why I'm doing this, why I'm committed (or rather should be committed coz I know it might seem kooky) and why I can't ~ no, why I choose not to ~ eat the pizza or the scone or the brownie or the usual camping food for an upcoming trip, and why I choose to get up and crank out hundreds of jumpropes and other exercises and then blog about it for all seven of you to read the mental workings on someone hellbent on a higher calling. What I do choose is me. My best self. And I'll drink to that! (well, at least come late September. Kool-Aid, anyone?)