I count my macros to the nth gram.
I set the treadmill to the highest level.
I KNOW I'm going to lift that fukkin weight. I stare that phucker down 'til it dies. It won't beat me.
Everyone stares at me, just to witness the awesomeness in their midst. They're just lucky I'm around.
Acknowledge me, for I am your master.
(Now, can someone tell me how long it would take to run a marathon on a treadmill if I'm going a constant four miles per hour?)