We all have rules in our homes. If I were to look at your rules, they might seem a bit bizarre and possibly even unfair. If you were to get a glimpse into my home (and at the gym), you would probably feel the same way. However, rules make things run smoothly and keep tension and confrontations low (or lower anyway). Rules provide structure and well, they keep us in a good mood most of the time, at least when the rules are being followed.

Here are a few of the rules that I have at The Hill’s Mountain Chateau Retreat, otherwise known as “home” (this is a real place, and if you were to visit, you could check in on Facebook to say that you've been there) as well as some rules for training with me at the gym.

Kitchen Rules

When I'm in the kitchen cooking food, there is an invisible shield around me that, no matter where I walk or move to, must not be breached. Though this usually is limited to the area that encompasses the fridge, stove-top island, waste basket and sink, I do have jurisdiction to move anywhere I want to within the kitchen and others must respect the shield and keep their asses away from me. Why? Because I'm hungry and you're in my way. You have the other two hours and 45 minutes to eat or cook whatever you want without being in my way or my being in your way.

Do not under any circumstance eat my food. If you have flies on your eyes and your belly is protruding you still don’t eat my food. “My food” is defined as the food in my cabinet that you were briefed on years ago. Your excuse of “I didn’t know it was your food” doesn’t fly. You are crystal clear on what my food is versus what your food is. For the record, your food is in every other cabinet in the kitchen including the pantry. My food is in one cabinet that you have to walk to the far end of the kitchen to get to.

Terms and Conditions highlighted in green

I want to be clear for all reading this that my kids are well fed. No, we don't have snacks and junk in the house most of the time, and their fat friends sometimes bitch when they come over and there isn’t anything shitty to snack on. They usually say it quietly to my son or daughter, but when I hear it, I give them this look that says, “If you want something shitty, take your fat ass home and eat it there.” At any given time, there will be deluxe mixed nuts to snack on, plenty of fruit, Fage yogurt with fruit in it (not pronounced phonetically for you less than mensa types) and plenty of cheese and rice cakes. (OK, I'm kidding about the rice cakes.) Even with this said, I'm sure that my kids have gone to school and complained that dad doesn’t let them eat “his” PopTarts® or kids' cereal. Try explaining to your kid’s teacher that you need the kid cereal for post-workout carbs but that it's terrible nutrition for a kid. You'll get a look that says, “And you are a nutrition expert?” They don’t say it, but…they’re thinking it.

Gym Rules

I sometimes will take one of our kids with us to the gym. My youngest, in particular, trains at least once and sometimes twice a week with me and my wife. You might be thinking that this disqualifies me from #beastmode status, but I'm a father first and a #beastmodebadass second. If you think that I train like a pussy, you're welcome to come along and train with me and see for yourself. Clearly, I felt the need to defend myself, but I digress...

While at the gym, my kids have been told that they aren't allowed to opine when it comes to my gym clothing. I'm going to wear compression tights to train legs, and after I'm warmed up, I might take my sweats off, exposing said compression tights. Note that I feel it's important to use the word “compression,” as if somehow justifies wearing tights. No matter. I wear them for warmth, and I wear them because they're sexy. That’s right—sexy. There is nothing sexier than an old man showing off his ass and balls under the guise of training legs. And I do this while wearing an elitefts™ shirt. My daughter, at 11 years old, is clearly creeped out by dad’s sexiness. One of us will need therapy eventually. I'm not sure which of us it will be.

If you're my training partner—and I'm talking right now about my wife—don't talk to me about how you need to get your hair did tomorrow. Yes, it's between sets, but that isn't approved conversation while training. What is approved? Anything a guy would say to me. Examples include:

  • “Check the ass out on that chick over there.” Completely acceptable.
  • “What exercise do you want to do after bent rows?” Completely acceptable.

Lip synching a Justin Timberlake song and dancing like you're in the video at the same time—unacceptable. Not starting your set because you're trying to find the best song on Spotify—unacceptable.

I feel that I'm a reasonable man. I provide quite a bit for my children, and I enjoy training with my wife because if I didn’t, she would be a fatty and you can’t be a fatty when you have a full sleeve and you ride a Harley. That's basically a dude and I can’t be married to a dude. All I ask is that you give me room around a few tiny little rules, and if you do, life will be easier on all of us. I'm trying to look sexy; don't argue with me. Just sayin'.

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