So I have decided that I am done, done with it all.
I'm fifty years old now and I'm gonna hang it up. I'm going opposite!
I am changing everything about myself. One hundred and eighty degrees.
No more lifting. That means no more squats or deads or even dumbbell work. Done with that stuff. Pilates or yoga? Sounds great! Stretch it out. I'm gonna be SO flexible. Forget that being strong stuff, I wanna be limber!
No more meat. No eggs , no milk, no wings! Going vegan, baby. Sprouted bread, bean sprouts, sprouts everywhere! I want soy. Soy milk, soy beans, soy,soy, soy.
No more weighing over 200 pounds. Done with that. Time to get lean and toned and functional. One hundred and thirty seven pounds seems about right. Gonna crawl over some logs and such. Also, at that bodyweight , combined with a visor, a clipboard and a pencil behind my ear, I will have instant credibility as a coach.
No more baseball caps. See above. Visors only for me. A visor with a picture of a dolphin smiling on it or a Pokemon character would be an extra bonus.
No more watching boxing or MMA. I'm watching network tv shows, where they decide who is the best dancer or singer and everyone cries and hell, I may just cry, too.
No more hunting. I'm going hiking. Or maybe I will hike to a picnic table somewhere and eat a tofu and bean sprout sandwich. Finish it off with a wheat grass smoothie or something similar.
No more black coffee, a spot of tea will be my go to pick me up.
No more camo. I'm dressing for the seasons, brights in the spring, earthy tones in the Fall.
No more Budweiser. Spritzers or something with fruit in it will do me just fine. Or a frothy drink.
No more jacked up trucks with big old tires. VW van, here I come. Or maybe a moped or Razor scooter.
No more man socks, I am going with the no see 'em socks. And loafers.
No more heavy metal, I'm listening to the "Hits" station.
No more underground, wailing, soulful country music. No more George Jones or Hank Jr. I want a mix of country and rap! I'm going NEW country!
No more books on Vietnam, or football or the Seals or blue collar fiction. And certainly not Hemingway, that manly bastard. I am going 50 Shades of Grey all the way. Some romance paperbacks, some Men's Health.magazine.
No more fishing. Those poor fish. Let them live peacefully. I am going to observe the fish, become one with them.
No more facial hair. Or maybe keep some but make my beard real thin and skinny all the way around.
No more cussing. I'm gonna only be positive. It's ok, second place gets a trophy, too. You missed your last set at 80% on squats? You will get 'em next time, buddy.
No more chain wallet. A "man bag" will do me just fine. I can put all kind of stuff in there. Or is it called a satchel?
No more hooded sweatshirts, I will be fine with a sweater vest, and a tie. A wool, furry, sweater vest.
No more complete words. Im gonna be right there with the kids. I'm gonna say LOL! 24-7, SMH! BRB, OTW!
No more cowboy boots, I'm going with wing tips.
No more shaving my head. Letting it grow out on the sides.
No more big dogs. A Bichon Frise will be my constant canine companion.
No more collecting knives anymore. I'm starting a snow globe collection. So snowy!
No more tattoos, I'm going to the boardwalk and getting a henna tattoo.
So there you have it, I will be a changed man. Now where did I leave my pumpkin spice latte'?