Anatomy of an Active Stoner 4

Previously on Anatomy of an Active Stoner

Sunday 7:30 am, 1995

"Time for Sunday school, wake up."

My mom's voice snaps me out of my dream. I hate Sundays more than anything in this world - My two single days of freedom after being locked up all week long cut short by this church class business.

I want to sleep in, watch cartoons and play outside, not sit down for hours listening to the robed man talk about people I do not care for one bit. How could these magicians act in my best interest when all they try to do is scare me into doing what they want, exactly like the stupid game Simon says.

I pass when they play at recess. I don't know this Simon guy, but why would ignoring his will make me a loser?

" I don't want to go to this DAMN Sunday school!"

She loses her temper: " Speak like that one more time, and I'll wash your mouth with soap. Get dressed, now! "

The poorly lit church classroom smells weird. A stern looking teacher recites the usual drag, reminding me of my insignificance compared to this God character every chance she gets.

I despise every second, except for the evil thoughts about the cute girl sitting next to me. I don't know what's going on inside me or why she is such a big distraction. The teacher had mentioned something about the devil a few classes ago and I just couldn't resist thinking about her.

The sermon ends at last, and my mom allows me to go to the park with my friend Mike from class. We had bonded over our hatred for Sunday school and became inseparable a few years ago.

We meet with Steve, who's parents never went to church. My mom didn't want me to hang out with him because of that, but she didn't know we were going to see him.

"How was the church?"

" God Damn Shit!" I love swearing behind Mom's back. The fact that I wasn't allowed made me want to do it even more.

" Want to smoke?" He pulls out a bag of chopped up grass " I stole some of my brother's weed."

"Weed? "

" Yeah, the devil's lettuce. You roll it up and burn it to get high. "

I didn't understand what high meant, but Steve's brother was badass, so I agreed.

" Fuck I forgot my papers. Do you have anything?"

I pull out a Holy Bible out of my school bag. "Will this do?"

He rips out a page out of the Old Testament, rolls up the grass like a cigarette and lights it with a Mickey Mouse lighter.

"Inhale and keep the smoke inside for a bit before blowing it out. "

I take a puff. The harsh smoke makes me cough up a lung, but a strange sensation creeps up in my brain and makes me chuckle.

Sunday 7:31am, 2017

My mouth is dry from last night's boozing. Bruce had kept the drinks coming after introducing me to his friend with neck pain. She was a fascinating person whose life efforts had taken quite the toll on her body. You could tell from the posture and dark bags under her eyes. We set an appointment for Monday, which made the dreaded charity event worthwhile after all.

I managed to ghost the party by 1:30 am. Bruce was busy shoving his tongue down powder blue dress lady's throat with a bottle of whiskey in his hands. Sticking around would spiral me down a path of utter debauchery with him and his goons until Monday morning. Those days were far behind for me, so I shot him a thank you text and disappeared into the night.

My circadian cycles wake me up early no matter my bed time. I drink my usual cocktail of lemon water with a pinch of sea salt, meditate fifteen minutes and take the dog out for a walk. The morning sunshine greets me with a smile.

I get back home after half an hour and head straight to my office for an early workout. I equipped the place with a squat rack and some weights to keep me active during long seated hustle bouts, plus it's a great source of additional income, which was crucial in the early days of the business.

Today's workout hits the external rotators of my shoulders and the lower trapezius. People with chronic pain often neglect this kind of upkeep work in favor of cardio type workouts or high-intensity stuff. Somebody in charge had decided that an optimal training session should have you down on the floor panting like a lunatic, no wonder pain is on the rise.

I chug my post-workout cricket concoction and get to my books. Sunday morning is a time for education. I read thirty pages of The Consulting Bible by Alan Weiss, then throw on the Joe Rogan podcast I missed with British bodybuilding legend Dorian Yates.

The six consecutive Mr. Olympia champion discusses a broad range of topics including training philosophy, his steroid use, life after retirement along with his psychedelic experiences and daily cannabis oil consumption.

" One trip of Ayahuasca felt like 20 years of therapy. " he recalls.

Here is a guy that used to weigh three hundred pounds of muscle, or two sixty-five when he was shriveled like a raisin up on stage, considered as on the greatest body builders in the history of the sport, now talking about the dire need for politicians to load up on DMT.

Dorian Yates (1995)

He looks like a regular fitter than the average guy, according to Joe. The two talk about the history of marijuana prohibition dating as far back as publishing/paper magnate William Hearst who lobbied against hemp in the 1930's, and the recent UCLA study on the lack of negative, and even slight beneficial impact of smoking weed instead of tobacco for the lungs.

Damn, what a guy. I would love to blaze with Yates to pick his brain- One day, maybe.

To be continued.

Disclaimer: This is not a promotion of marijuana as a solution for anything nor an invitation to partake, but rather a demonstration that a healthy optimal lifestyle can include smoking up.

Active Stoner's Homework:

The more you know...

UCLA Weed study.

In case you missed it!

Anatomy of an Active Stoner

Anatomy of an Active Stoner 2

Anatomy of an Active Stoner 3: The Charity Banquet