The greatest thing by far, according to Aristotle, is to be a master of metaphor.

cracks knuckles

dons toga

grabs stylus

Eating according to your blood type is like eating according to your sun sign.

And exercising according to your body type is like exercising according to your zodiac sign.

And starving yourself throughout the week so you can gorge on the weekends is like wearing a seatbelt so you can drive like a maniac.

And avoiding an individual food or macronutrient “because it makes you fat” is like avoiding the snow because it “causes hypothermia.”

And trying to out-exercise an out-of-control diet is like trying to shovel sand against the tide.

And taking BCAAs in addition to eating plenty of protein is like watering your lawn . . . after a storm.

And sacrificing sleep to have more time for just about anything is like trying to cure dandruff with a guillotine.

And taking a multivitamin supplement instead of eating a nutritious diet is like calling a finger painting a Rembrandt.

And relying solely on caffeine for energy is like trying to borrow your way out of debt.

And avoiding plant foods because you don’t like them is like staring at the sun because you don’t like the shade.

And not lifting heavy weights for fear of getting “bulky” is like avoiding sugar for fear of getting “addicted.”

“But Mike,” you sneer, “those are similes, not metaphors.”

Okay, and? We get it, Shakespeare—things are like other things. The audacity. Here, have one more, dingus:

Viewing exercise mostly as a way to burn calories is like viewing marriage mostly as a way to get laid.