Everyone is an expert. Once people hear that you’re trying to lose weight and get in shape– everyone wants to discuss it. They want you to know that they hold the secret to this thing that has mystified the nations and spawned an entire health/fitness industry. And while everyone wants to know what you’re doing-especially if they’ve noticed the fat under your chin shrinking, they simultaneously need to tell you that their cousin’s-best-friend’s-brother lost a ton of weight doing cross fit.
If you do decide to share; they want you to know that you’re not doing it right… Too much cardio, not enough protein and good fat. Nevermind the fact that you’ve spent the last six months fine tuning and adjusting everything you eat, carefully bending your road to the map provided to you by internet research, co-workers, and well-meaning comrades.
It takes a lot of mindfulness to realize that, while the general consensus is that almond butter is good for you, you can’t keep it on the menu because you’ll snap back to reality puking half a jar into the toilet after binging in the middle of the night because you just don’t have the discipline yet. And this scene; I do not care to repeat.
This is why I don’t want your advice:
Your body looks great, but you haven’t shit for days and I’d prefer to continue using my digestive system. This is why I don’t want your advice: you’re fat; and that one time in college you were very fit doesn’t qualify you as an expert because all that knowledge and expertise has led you to the body you have today. So, who do I listen to? No one, everyone, but mostly the people in my life that seem to have achieved what I aspire to and have basic, uncomplicated advice that typically makes me angry, but also resonates. We make it much more complex than it needs to be, because sometimes the simplest solution is the most difficult.