I am a god of fitness and a titan of strength. Such is my physique that many bow before me as I pass. Women fawn over me and men obsequiously beg to know the secrets of my perfection.
Yet even as I stand so high among my peers, I may have met a challenge that not even my might can withstand. What I speak of is training my brother.
My brother... how shall I paint the portrait? A crime journalist going on thirty, he's got a gut the size of a pregnant woman's on her ninth month--but the only baby his belly nourishes is his ego. In fact, his mentality is the whole reason I write this to begin with.
He wants to lose weight, and he occasionally works out with me, but allow me to describe how the workout 'works out'. First, we go for a jog as a warm up. This is usually 1.2 miles for me; for him, after running about 30 steps together he tires out. I can understand this as he's not a runner, nor is he in the shape to jog any great distance. But this next part is what kills me: After those thirty steps, he hangs his head low and cynically walks the rest of the mile, sullen and aversive to the rest of the workout to come. Then we get to the actual workout, where he complains and moans like it's the worst thing in the world. Granted, for his level of fitness, it may truly be the worst thing in the world. But my brother has never been known for having a go-getter attitude that finishes what he starts. His place lies more under the 'Life Sucks And You Should Quit If It Gets Too Hard' category.
Besides exercising, he is extremely picky about what he eats. I daresay if he were starving in the middle of nowhere his tongue could still refuse a healthy, edible food that he doesn't like. This is essentially where his glorious gut begins to come into the picture. He likes junk food, meat, and anything and everything with sugar. He drinks a lot of tea, but not before drowning a good half of it in sugar. Also, he pretty much refuses to eat anything with the labels "organic", "vegetarian", "vegan", or anything of the sort.
I love my brother in spite of his frequent moodiness, yet I can't help but feel his body's simply making preparations for the next heart disease convention.
After what I have experienced myself with training in years passed, I have realized that true fitness has relatively little to do with the body, but rather everything to do with the mind. I see what could become in him a bastion of strength, if only he would move his mind to purpose. But at the first taste of pain he believes himself overfed and unable to press on. My main point in writing this is to ask not for how I can bring about a physical change in him, but a mental one. I just know that if he could be more positive, confident, and dedicated, he would be an unstoppable force of nature. I try to be that inspiration to him, to constantly present him with uplifting message and countenance that he may hopefully adopt it as his own mentality, but to no avail. It is all generally shot down as soon as it is born. My words fall on deaf ears, whose owner takes it as comments to be discarded for their lack of worth. O, what I could carve out of steel if only he would help himself!
Lastly, I just want to point out that I'm not trying to bash my brother here. My words were only such to demonstrate a clear picture of the man, brutal as it may be! My overall goal in writing this is to help the poor guy. I used to have a really bad ego myself, which caused me much pain and suffering just as his does him. Yet, even though I know where he's coming from, I don't know where to begin to help him. If you guys have any suggestions or ideas for how I might turn his frown upside down, I would be most appreciative (and I'm sure he would be too)!