open dyslexic mode

I’ll start off by saying this: I don’t wanna work out. 60% of the time I’d rather do anything else. But I still do. I’m training for the 70-year-old me who’ll look back and say thank you. If I take care of myself, people know I can take care of them. I don’t have time to be in hospitals. I stretch, sprint, sauna, cold plunge, stay hungry, release endorphins + dopamine, and build absolute control. It’s not just the body. It’s the process. Habits matter. Principles matter. Presence matters. If I only worked when people watched, I’d be full of shit. Do the math: 330 workouts out of 365 days. 90.4%. No rounding, no fluff. Discipline is the reward. I worked out on vacation. After 15-hour days. Intentionally homeless. Over posting content. Even when I didn’t want to. Most of the time I didn’t want to. Ask yourself—do you do the same? Food ratio? 80% jungle fuel, 20% trash. 90% workouts + 80% diet = 85% health. Consistency perfection. If you’re not changing it, you’re choosing it. Nobody owes me anything. Talent without discipline = nothing. Complacency without detail = nothing. The only thing acceptable is your best. I’ve made it to the Pretty Privilege Olympics—professional model, reality TV, entertainer vibes—but you didn’t see the cost: losing a scholarship, suicidal thoughts, no father in the picture, three people I loved passing away, heart shredded on national television, catching genital herpes and deciding to own it publicly instead of hiding it. Still, I kept a positive mental attitude. Still said yes to random opportunities. Yes to a runway. Yes to modeling. Yes to “Naked & Afraid.” Energy always reciprocates. I don’t wanna work out. But I do. Most of the days I don’t want too. And that’s why I win. 🌴🔥 Day 7 Of Doing Something Random… #garyveestanchallenge