It’s the season again where everyone decides to shed a few pounds and share their journey on the Internet. I applaud the efforts of those who work so hard. However, some of these fitness freaks have really started to get under my skin.

There’s no doubt that I’m part of that group. I turn to exercise in the light of pretty much every feeling because I like it and it makes me happy.

I’ll proudly flaunt all that I’ve worked to achieve physically. My clothes are so tight that my family and friends regularly question if blood can actually reach my brain. My hands are often numb from a loss of circulation starting at the upper arm cuff.

Yes, I am a fitness freak. The thing that’s bothering me is that some of my brethren act more like fitness communists, thinking the concept of health and fitness is always a competition and broken into categories of winners and losers, in which we are all losers.

Taking care of your body should be for the purpose of sustaining a better life for yourself. Don’t get your Underarmour in a bunch toward those who don’t have the same brute dedication as you, and by dedication I mean addiction.

This is a clear addiction. Do you shell out money for the creatine-laced products? Does your workout routines affect your relationships with family and friends?

The only difference I see is that heroin addicts have never judged me for not having track marks racing down my arms.

Eating healthy is damn expensive, and I’m on a particularly tight budget, along with most of the people in these metro cities. A fallout effect of some bankruptcy crisis some of you may catch wind of if you put down your kettlebells.

I’ll be the guy with a cart full of red meat, a quart of jiggling-butt ice cream and a case of grimy gut-wrenching beer over mechanically-engineered chemical bars.

If exercise makes you happy, great. Go spend $200 a week on excessive unnecessary supplements that will eventually give you heart palpitations. You like to bong a two-liter of Mountain Dew Code Red and play Everquest? Then be happy. If there’s any philosophy I really put my faith in, it’s that the key to life is happiness.

Self-imposed fitness gurus are the biggest culprits of pushing their beliefs on others, falling just short of the 1940’s Nazi party. Not everyone wants to have propulsive protein farts and that’s okay. Some of us could bottle that rancid scent and sell it to terrorist organizations as the next weapon of mass destruction.

Do what makes you happy and that’s all there is to it. Unless that happiness is derived from interfering with other people’s happiness, and right now you’re all just pissing me off.