Here’s how one man learned to change his diet.
By Peter Hoare
“I innately love things that are god awful for me, and if I don’t change, I genuinely feel like my heart might just explode at 35.”
This morning I signed in online and read a friend’s Facebook status. In the status, this guy wondered if today was National Bacon Day. I, without so much as a Google search, was able to let him know that National Bacon Day is actually the first Saturday before Labor Day.
Who the hell knows off the top of their head when National Bacon Day is?
Peter Hoare does.
My eating habits, and excuse me if I’m using the term incorrectly, suck a dick. My diet rivals that of a diabetic latchkey kid. My breakfasts look like most men’s desserts. I ordered my first salad at age 30 and hated it. If it’d make my breath minty fresh, I’d brush my teeth with fluff. I’m not proud of it, but it’s the truth. I innately love things that are god awful for me, and if I don’t change, I genuinely feel like my heart might just explode at 35. In fact, if all of a sudden this article turns into ruwhrgiutghiu4vg tiu4wgtiugiu43ug4, that’s just the result of my dumb, dead head thumping down onto the keyboard. If the aforementioned happens, can someone do me a solid and sign into my Facebook and check me in at heaven?
Now, if you’ve ever met me or seen any of the many erotic calendars I’ve released over the years, you know that I’m kind of a slender guy. Not skinny per se, but thin. But don’t let the word “thin” throw you off. I am NOT skinny. I’m that kind of weird thin where you’re also simultaneously kind of fat. Unfortunately for me, sexy as that may be, being skinny does not make you a healthy guy. I’ve come to realize lately that there’s simply no way that I could technically be determined healthy. I imagine that at this point my blood must resemble the peanut butter sauce at Cold Stone Creamery. Is it delicious? Of course it is. Will it keep me alive long enough to see my robot grandson ride his first hoverboard? Probably not.
I used to joke about this kind of stuff — until I turned 30. Though I don’t feel any different, I definitely don’t feel immortal anymore. And I know that without a doubt, I absolutely have to learn to eat better. I’ve had a rough time coming to terms with the fact that grown men probably don’t need their daily rocky road milkshake. I loathe the fact that baby carrots are not as good as Nutter Butters. You like doing yoga and pilates; I like doing Mallomars. But I also like living. That’s the problem.
I’m of the opinion that life is kind of like a movie. Every movie, fromCasablanca to Forrest Gump to freakin’ Good Burger, is comprised of three acts. The first act is just the setup. It’s where you get to know the characters. Acts II and III are where the real meat and potatoes of the story happen.
Now I don’t know if you realize this, but people are living longer than ever these days. Maybe that’s due to evolution. Maybe it’s due to society, as a whole, being more health conscious. I’m not sure. All I know is that I still have two more acts to go. In one of my favorite films, Swingers, Jon Favreau’s character was a helpless loser at the end of the first act. By the time the movie ended he was making out with Heather Graham. Let me tell you, I want the chance to make out with Heather Graham, damn it! And, regardless of gender, I think you should too.
So, if any of you out there are anything like me, may I suggest that you do what I’m doing and actually change your diet? But go about it the right way — slowly but surely. If you do it all at once, you’ll be overwhelmed and you’ll revert back to your old fat-guy ways before long. But that’s fine. Baby steps. Little by little, try incorporating healthy things into your diet. Vitamins! Guess what? They work. And if you’re too lazy or busy to find the time of day to pop a vitamin in your mouth, then you have a whole other bunch of problems to deal with beyond your diet. And then, of course, you can try and eat better. Whole wheat bread instead of regular bread. Nuts and berries instead of Cool Ranch Doritos. Orange sherbet instead of an Oreo McFlurry.
Trust me, if I can do it, anyone can. In fact, a big reason I’m writing this is to ask for your help. If you ever hear me ordering extra bacon on something, you have full permission to immediately kick me in the junk. That kind of stuff can only help. Remember, people, making out with Heather Graham or a comparably incredible scenario may be in your second act. Just make sure you stick around long enough to find out.
My movie isn’t over yet.
This article originally appeared on AskMen. For more like this from Ask Men, try:
Photo credit: U.S. Department of Agriculture/flickr