>Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs and My Tummy

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Among my recent readings, I did a rehash of Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs. This pyramidal scheme ranks our needs according to two tiers- Deficiency Needs, where a lack of induces behavioral change. This includes Physiological (water, food…etc), Safety, Belongingness/love and Self Esteem. These four components are then followed by the Metaneeds, which induce behavior as a result from our tendency to grow. This includes Cognitive(including declarative knowledge), Aesthetic (beauty, truth and justice) and Self actualization (which is still largely in debate as to what this defines).

Anyways, why am I text purging this paragraph? Well I believe one of the largest battles I’ve had the past few months (indeed year), since I went back to the gym (after recovering from the broken hand), has been gaining back/surpassing my original strength levels, whilst fighting back volume increase. Although one of my goals in the gym is to gain strength and endurance (and in turn one upping all my rivals), it is also to lean down, and reveal lines such that a topography map would gnash its teeth with envy.

It is rather unfortunate that I appear to have developed a Jonah complex in this sense. I personally believe I lack the sacrificial requirement for personal growth and development. I have always made excuses such that my caloric intake has ballooned like an obese consumer in Burger King. Such excuses have included such dumb founded ideals that it saddens me to admit them (I truly feel like a glutton when I try to justify my masticating habits). When I look at Maslow’s hierarchy, I see myself far from self actualization (which is to my knowledge, the unfolding/fulfillment of self, far from what I feel now). Indeed, my wanton lust for the Aesthetic level, that of lean muscular strength is fathoms above me. I live vicariously as a bottom feeder, a mollusk filtering out the oceanic debris, with little ambition but to survive. I shudder under the predator’s shadow, too weak to make the journey upwards, away from the benthic depths.

It is now to my displeasure, that I will begin an aggressive attack with caloric counting. It is displeasurable to me, because it is a pain in the ass to do such measures, but I know that if my final goal is to reach the status that my fellow gym rats have achieved, I must partake in such activities. Beginning on this blog post, I shall embark on a journey of mathematical proportions (including double digit addition). I’m not going to be best friends with my index finger and the toilet, but I am going to embrace this very uphill battle with both arms flexed.

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