

Golly gee, you’re telling me that the reason I dislike the shitty activity that sucks and make me feel terrible is only because I’m forced to do the shitty activity that sucks and makes me feel terrible? You’re saying that if I trick my brain into thinking that the shitty activity that sucks and makes me feel terrible somehow isn’t shitty, doesn’t suck, and doesn’t make me feel terrible; I’ll somehow believe it? Sorry, my brain doesn’t work like that. It tends to reject blatant fucking lies, especially when they come from myself.
I’m sure there are people who practice self-flangellation that have convinced themselves that they like it. Doesn’t make it any less of a stupid activity that anyone with sense would recognize is fucking awful.










Here’s a little thought experiment: If someone offered you a magical pill that could keep you healthy and fit and you never had to work out again, would you take it?
If the answer is yes, then it’s because while you may like the results of working out; deep down you know the actual act of working out fucking sucks. If such a pill existed, you wouldn’t keep lifting weights or running on a treadmill just for the hell of it.
It’s fine to like the results of working out. Hell, I like the results. I like being healthy. I like not having heart problems. But I’m not going to fucking delude myself like a gullible idiot and say that what it takes to achieve those things is somehow enjoyable. Because it’s not. Working out is fucking awful. Just because it’s the only option doesn’t mean I have to pretend to like it.