Feeding the Soul

I think I’ve written a little bit about pizza rolls around here.

I could probably go on writing about them for the rest of my life, because, let’s face it, PIZZA ROLLS ARE AWESOME.

But you want to know my dirty, nasty secret? I haven’t eaten a single pizza roll since July. That’s right, more than four months without a pizza roll at all. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that I’ve lost 65 pounds in the same amount of time. That’s right, 65 pounds and EIGHT INCHES from my waist. I’ve even gone down a half a shoe size (and from wide to regular to boot! #PunIntended #HashtagsOutsideofTwitter)

Some of you might be questioning the wisdom of my decisions. I mean, is life without pizza rolls really worth living? Maybe not, but so far, I’m pretty happy.

You see, there is this thing that happens when you first move to the mountains. Well, besides that part where you realize you can’t breath because there isn’t enough oxygen and you’re freezing to death because the freaking HIGH ON FRIDAY IS 3 GOD-DAMN-DEGREES! (That’s in American Degrees, for you Celci-ites, that’s -16.11°.)

Yep, something other than those two terrifying things that will make me cry until my tears freeze in the deadly lack of atmosphere. Something wonderful.

You have to run from bears a lot.

Running from bears is good exercise. Fist Fighting bears is even better exercise, but I don’t spend enough time at the casinos that have to worry about battling a drunken bear on a regular basis. Man, are those guys bad losers.

Wait… what was I ranting about?

Oh, yeah, pizza rolls… or something.

I’m not very good at this anymore am I? Oh well, you have to put up with it because I’m so damn cute…

Okay, in all honesty, though, there is a certain energy to the mountains that gives you a kick in the ass and tells you to start doing things. For me, that was walking around staring at the ridiculously huge sky and thinking about stuff. I spent a lot of time thinking about a lot of things. When you’re given enough time to seriously put some mental energy into the problems that are plaguing your life, some patterns seem to emerge and you start to take inventory of yourself.

Maybe, after years of living in denial, you admit to yourself that you’ve made some pretty big mistakes.

Maybe, you get over it and move on with your life.

Maybe you don’t.

But, when you’re on about mile four of your daily wandering, you might, just might, realize that you’ve been carrying around all this bullshit. You’ve been packing it higher and higher on shoulders until the weight of it was staring to wear your bones into meal. You stand there, and you think, “Screw that noise.”

Maybe you’re standing at the top of a mountain when you think that. If you are, it feels pretty good to stare out at the city and valley spread out before you and shout obscenities.

Because you know what?

They can all kiss your ass. That’s what.