Do an Act of Nutrition for Fitness! Act of Nutrition

Road rage bears a close resemblance to roid rage.

Foreign Affairs June 15, 2014

One warm sunny day in the month of May (literally), I was on my way to the airport to pick up my friend’s mother. He, himself, was out of town and asked me to do him a solid. Being the gentleman that I am, I quickly obliged and stepped up to the plate.

As I zipped down the highway, it occurred to me that I hit 78 mph, so I figured I better slow down a bit before I get pulled over. It was at this moment that something very interesting occurred. I peered into my rear-view mirror and noticed a Mercedes quickly bearing down on my tail. He flew up beside me–in the non-passing lane I might add–honked his horn angrily, then sped off into the concrete jungle ahead, leaving nothing but a swirl of dust in his wake. Similar to Rocky Balboa, I just kind of shook it off. Then I thought, man he must have had to pee like a Russian race horse.

I went a little farther down the road, minding my own business, and like clockwork, incident two took place. This time the traffic was a bit more congested and again I found myself in the passing lane going as fast as the flow would allow. I’m guessing I was still in the 70s. I glanced at my speedometer to check my speed when a BMW whirled up behind me from out of nowhere.

The guy behind the wheel zipped up to my passenger side, once again in the non-passing lane, and peered into my window. Out of my peripheral vision, I could see his lips moving laser-light fast like one of those hilarious old-school, translated kung fu movies. He then made all these facial gestures as he threw his hands up and down in the air. Maybe there was a bee in his car and he was trying to avoid getting stung. Or, more likely, he was just another jackass in a hurry, endangering the lives of innocent people. Regardless of his outrage, I kept thinking, you better grip the wheel with two hands there bub; or you’re going to be speeding your way right to the emergency room.

Finally, as I got to an open straightaway, a Volvo came flying up from out of nowhere and passed my like I was painted to the road. At this point I was still hovering just over 70 mph, which means the lady in this vehicle had to be going at least 90! I can’t explain it. Maybe she was late for CrossFit?

You may be wondering what any of this has to do with food. Well, it doesn’t. But my life revolves around more than just food. I’m also on a mission to expose all the knuckleheads calling the shots out there in the world of fitness, nutrition AND everyday life.

The bottom line is, do you really need to drive that bloody fast? I know you might have a fast foreign car, but seriously? I’m OK with doing the speed limit or going slightly over, but you are no more important than anyone else. I really don’t care how fast your car is, or how much horse power it has or how cool it is to make my Toyota Rav IV look pedestrian. You’re a dumbass anyway you slice and you should have your license revoked!

Please don’t misinterpret my message here either. I’m not venting. I’m just stating facts and telling it like it is. If you want to judge me for that, then be my guest. Besides, if you told me an incident like the above never happened to you, I’d call you a liar! The problem is, as a society, we tend to be way too passive. It’s fine to be Pius and all about spirituality and forgiveness, but I’m here to tell you it’s also OK to speak your mind! If you keep all that pent up aggression bottled up, you run the risk of losing it in the wrong place at the wrong time. Be the change you want to see in the world–Mahatma Gandhi.

 
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Kevin Rail

Road rage bears a close resemblance to roid rage.

Foreign Affairs June 15, 2014

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