Monday, July 14, 2008
Exercise:
Walked - 2.8 miles
Skipped rope - about 4 minutes (it's harder than it looks)
Crunches - 200 (50 each uppers, lowers and laterals)
Walked - 2.8 miles
Skipped rope - about 4 minutes (it's harder than it looks)
Crunches - 200 (50 each uppers, lowers and laterals)
After a year of silence, two posts in one day. I use this a launch page for webcomics, and I don’t think I can stand having the preceding post in my face every day.
So, now for something completely different.
Life has a way of thumbing it’s nose at your every effort. I don’t mean to pessimistic. In fact, I find this more amusing than anything else.
I worked out yesterday, while waiting for my laundry to dry. It was a good work out. At the end I was worn out, but riding the rush of those endorphins they claim you get from exercise. Turns out they are real after all.
Between the effort of holding myself together, getting a couple of chores done and working out, I was feeling pretty good. I even took a dip in the pool, for the first time in three years I’ve lived here…There was no one at the pool; I wasn’t feeling THAT good.
There is a guy living in the complex. About my height, a bit darker of skin, shaved head, thin as a rail. I first saw him as went for a run, wear nothing but shoes and a pair of running shorts sized for a Ken doll. I remember this because it’s exactly what I don’t want to see. I have body issues, and not just with my body. It’s one of the reasons I didn’t use the pool for so long.
This guy is cut. He obviously takes care of himself religiously. He’s the kind of guy who makes us merely mortal men feel bad about ourselves. So he bugs me double. I mean, I respect his right to do and be what he wants to do and be. I just wish I didn’t have to see it. And he has the kind of physique I want.
So, I’m feeling rather good about myself, after doing what I’ve done. So I decide to get a pack of smokes, because what better way to celebrate moving toward your fitness goals than to indulge in habit that may kill you? I showed of the pool water, got dressed and wandered out. Driving up the road, and who do I see coming back from his 50 gajilliom mile run?
At least he had on a decent pair of shorts, but good god. The man has abdominal muscles the size of my head! I’m pretty sure they could stop bullets. He probably does crunches by crushing refrigerators betweens his knees and chest.
Needless to say, my sense of accomplishment popped.
I got it back. One must be realistic about these things. They guy had just run a few laps around the planet, and I’m challenged to run for a third of a mile, so it isn’t as if we’re in the same league, much less on a level playing field. I did good.
I want to do better. The best way I can figure to do that is to use all of the equipment I have. Like any man settled into a desk job and reaching the top of the hill, I have a lot of fitness equipment. Equipment I don’t use. I paid for all of this stuff, it’s about time I put it to work.
At the moment I own, a Tony Little Gazelle, 6 weighted ankle/wrist bands, 2 ab machines, 4 barbells, a resistance band, a door mounted resistance set, a balance ball, a “Perfect Push up” set and a jump rope.
I want to start with the jump rope. Well coordinated rope jumping is more intensive a workout than jogging, and lower impact (as crazy as that sounds). I want to get at least as much value out of jumping rope as I do walking, so that I might replace one with the other…though I really don’t intend to give up walking. I just don’t want to walk as long as I have been.
I used the resistance door set yesterday and I liked it, so I’m going to keep that in play, and build on what I’ve already done.
I’m going to pull out the ab machines, but this time, I’m going to focus. Most people, including me, do ab work like it is a chore (which it is). They try to get it over with as quickly as they can. This pretty much ruins proper form, and from what I’ve read (I’m no expert) without proper form, you might as well not bother with an abdominal work out.
I know I haven’t being doing it right. Not just from lack of results. I can remember most ab work outs I’ve done, and I’ve always had muscles other than my abs straining. I’m going to try to focus on just using my abdominals for the lifting.
After I did the door resistance, I did a few sets on the Perfect Push up, so I’m already using those.
I don’t what to do with free weights/weight bands.
I might dust off the gazelle and put it to use.
If I’m going to beat this guy at his own game (or at least not be embarrassed about how bad I look compared to him) I’m going to have to keep track of what I’ve done. I’m also going to have to start eating better, but that’s post I’m not ready to tackle yet. Since I have this journal, and longer have anything better to do, I figure I should start making notes every day about my progress.
Maybe it will act as a motivator, having a public account of what I’m doing. I’ve never tried anything like it, but it’s worth a shot and it’s worked for other people.
So, now for something completely different.
Life has a way of thumbing it’s nose at your every effort. I don’t mean to pessimistic. In fact, I find this more amusing than anything else.
I worked out yesterday, while waiting for my laundry to dry. It was a good work out. At the end I was worn out, but riding the rush of those endorphins they claim you get from exercise. Turns out they are real after all.
Between the effort of holding myself together, getting a couple of chores done and working out, I was feeling pretty good. I even took a dip in the pool, for the first time in three years I’ve lived here…There was no one at the pool; I wasn’t feeling THAT good.
There is a guy living in the complex. About my height, a bit darker of skin, shaved head, thin as a rail. I first saw him as went for a run, wear nothing but shoes and a pair of running shorts sized for a Ken doll. I remember this because it’s exactly what I don’t want to see. I have body issues, and not just with my body. It’s one of the reasons I didn’t use the pool for so long.
This guy is cut. He obviously takes care of himself religiously. He’s the kind of guy who makes us merely mortal men feel bad about ourselves. So he bugs me double. I mean, I respect his right to do and be what he wants to do and be. I just wish I didn’t have to see it. And he has the kind of physique I want.
So, I’m feeling rather good about myself, after doing what I’ve done. So I decide to get a pack of smokes, because what better way to celebrate moving toward your fitness goals than to indulge in habit that may kill you? I showed of the pool water, got dressed and wandered out. Driving up the road, and who do I see coming back from his 50 gajilliom mile run?
At least he had on a decent pair of shorts, but good god. The man has abdominal muscles the size of my head! I’m pretty sure they could stop bullets. He probably does crunches by crushing refrigerators betweens his knees and chest.
Needless to say, my sense of accomplishment popped.
I got it back. One must be realistic about these things. They guy had just run a few laps around the planet, and I’m challenged to run for a third of a mile, so it isn’t as if we’re in the same league, much less on a level playing field. I did good.
I want to do better. The best way I can figure to do that is to use all of the equipment I have. Like any man settled into a desk job and reaching the top of the hill, I have a lot of fitness equipment. Equipment I don’t use. I paid for all of this stuff, it’s about time I put it to work.
At the moment I own, a Tony Little Gazelle, 6 weighted ankle/wrist bands, 2 ab machines, 4 barbells, a resistance band, a door mounted resistance set, a balance ball, a “Perfect Push up” set and a jump rope.
I want to start with the jump rope. Well coordinated rope jumping is more intensive a workout than jogging, and lower impact (as crazy as that sounds). I want to get at least as much value out of jumping rope as I do walking, so that I might replace one with the other…though I really don’t intend to give up walking. I just don’t want to walk as long as I have been.
I used the resistance door set yesterday and I liked it, so I’m going to keep that in play, and build on what I’ve already done.
I’m going to pull out the ab machines, but this time, I’m going to focus. Most people, including me, do ab work like it is a chore (which it is). They try to get it over with as quickly as they can. This pretty much ruins proper form, and from what I’ve read (I’m no expert) without proper form, you might as well not bother with an abdominal work out.
I know I haven’t being doing it right. Not just from lack of results. I can remember most ab work outs I’ve done, and I’ve always had muscles other than my abs straining. I’m going to try to focus on just using my abdominals for the lifting.
After I did the door resistance, I did a few sets on the Perfect Push up, so I’m already using those.
I don’t what to do with free weights/weight bands.
I might dust off the gazelle and put it to use.
If I’m going to beat this guy at his own game (or at least not be embarrassed about how bad I look compared to him) I’m going to have to keep track of what I’ve done. I’m also going to have to start eating better, but that’s post I’m not ready to tackle yet. Since I have this journal, and longer have anything better to do, I figure I should start making notes every day about my progress.
Maybe it will act as a motivator, having a public account of what I’m doing. I’ve never tried anything like it, but it’s worth a shot and it’s worked for other people.
I tried to quit smoking, and that was my first mistake. Two days later my relationship was on the rocks. Five days after that it was over. I feel dead. After three years, I don’t think my nervous system knows how to handle the loss. If I work, I’m distracted and I get by just fine. It’s an illusion, of course. The bottom drops out without warning and I plummet towards despair.
She told me she didn’t want to hurt me, then shredded my soul. In her defense, she had reasons. She believes I don’t value or respect her opinion. She believes I want her to change fundamentally to fit my personality. She believes we have difference that can’t be worked through.
If I thought any of that was true, I wouldn’t be the wreck I am now. I mean, I’d be devastated, but I’d have the solace of knowing it was only what was best for us. I don’t believe that, so instead I’m angry, I feel betrayed, abandoned…destroyed.
I’ve lost the only good thing life ever offered me. At least the only one I recognized. And that’s part of the rub. I know that, taken literally, that isn’t true. Life’s given me opportunities and good friends, but more than that, taken as I really mean it, life has probably offered me thing and I just didn’t notice.
I think I could be okay if I could hate her for what she did, but I can’t. I know, on a primal level--striped of hubris, anger and self deception—that I do value her opinion, don’t want her change… I just failed to let her know.
The easy way would be to say, I don’t know what I could have done differently to let her know. It isn’t as if I didn’t tell her these things. I did, over and over. It isn’t as if I didn’t ask her opinion, solicit her advice. It was often like pulling teeth, and the results were often disappointing. The fact, however, is that--even though I did those things, and changed the way I did those things--I never changed my basic approach. Same old shit, different day.
If you want to improve something, you need to do a reality check. You need to ask; Is this working? I didn’t, and it wasn’t. Thus, the part of the rub I mentioned before. As much as she did this, so did I. Most of my efforts were intended to prevent it, but the road to hell is paved with such and that cliché has a real meaning. Intent is never enough. You must be aware and act responsibly and above all, make sure you are going where you were aiming.
Kevin thinks that there is nothing between us that warrants a break up. Beyond the anger and sense of betrayal, I agree, but what can I DO about it?
She doesn’t want to talk to me. Even if she did, I’d have to convince her that she was wrong, which would be neither valuing nor respecting her opinion, which I do. And that was my second mistake.
I valued her opinion and her right to choose her path so much that when her opinion turned against us, I was paralyzed. Perhaps I should have raged against it all. Let the emotions run free, poured out my heart. That wouldn’t have been fair. At the time, being fair seemed the right thing to do. At the time I felt like the emotions would only make it worse. I guess I just couldn’t believe we’d really end up here. I couldn’t believe that being together was such a bad thing.
I don’t know that letting the emotions free would have been a good thing. I don’t trust my emotions, because they aren’t trust worthy. They lead to more bad choices than good. They are self-interested and often petty. I don’t think this makes them bad, and hope it doesn’t make me a bad person. I just think of them as advice that must be taken with a heavy amount of salt. What would I have said, driven by the raw fear and heartache? Would I have been insulting? Destructive?
I don’t know. I didn’t know then, and I don’t now. Now, as then, I’m stuck. Stuck between release and despair, between heartache and anger, between desperation and panic. I feel like destroying something, but I’ve never been one to take things out on stuff, so I’m left with destroying myself. That’s just stupid, but the emotional mind is trying to come up with anything it can to make this right. Which goes back to why I don’t trust it.
I want her back. I need her back. Sometimes that’s all I can think about, but in the darkest moments I find myself asking, “what if she is right? What if we are better off apart? What if you need her because you’ve never made yourself whole?”
She told me she didn’t want to hurt me, then shredded my soul. In her defense, she had reasons. She believes I don’t value or respect her opinion. She believes I want her to change fundamentally to fit my personality. She believes we have difference that can’t be worked through.
If I thought any of that was true, I wouldn’t be the wreck I am now. I mean, I’d be devastated, but I’d have the solace of knowing it was only what was best for us. I don’t believe that, so instead I’m angry, I feel betrayed, abandoned…destroyed.
I’ve lost the only good thing life ever offered me. At least the only one I recognized. And that’s part of the rub. I know that, taken literally, that isn’t true. Life’s given me opportunities and good friends, but more than that, taken as I really mean it, life has probably offered me thing and I just didn’t notice.
I think I could be okay if I could hate her for what she did, but I can’t. I know, on a primal level--striped of hubris, anger and self deception—that I do value her opinion, don’t want her change… I just failed to let her know.
The easy way would be to say, I don’t know what I could have done differently to let her know. It isn’t as if I didn’t tell her these things. I did, over and over. It isn’t as if I didn’t ask her opinion, solicit her advice. It was often like pulling teeth, and the results were often disappointing. The fact, however, is that--even though I did those things, and changed the way I did those things--I never changed my basic approach. Same old shit, different day.
If you want to improve something, you need to do a reality check. You need to ask; Is this working? I didn’t, and it wasn’t. Thus, the part of the rub I mentioned before. As much as she did this, so did I. Most of my efforts were intended to prevent it, but the road to hell is paved with such and that cliché has a real meaning. Intent is never enough. You must be aware and act responsibly and above all, make sure you are going where you were aiming.
Kevin thinks that there is nothing between us that warrants a break up. Beyond the anger and sense of betrayal, I agree, but what can I DO about it?
She doesn’t want to talk to me. Even if she did, I’d have to convince her that she was wrong, which would be neither valuing nor respecting her opinion, which I do. And that was my second mistake.
I valued her opinion and her right to choose her path so much that when her opinion turned against us, I was paralyzed. Perhaps I should have raged against it all. Let the emotions run free, poured out my heart. That wouldn’t have been fair. At the time, being fair seemed the right thing to do. At the time I felt like the emotions would only make it worse. I guess I just couldn’t believe we’d really end up here. I couldn’t believe that being together was such a bad thing.
I don’t know that letting the emotions free would have been a good thing. I don’t trust my emotions, because they aren’t trust worthy. They lead to more bad choices than good. They are self-interested and often petty. I don’t think this makes them bad, and hope it doesn’t make me a bad person. I just think of them as advice that must be taken with a heavy amount of salt. What would I have said, driven by the raw fear and heartache? Would I have been insulting? Destructive?
I don’t know. I didn’t know then, and I don’t now. Now, as then, I’m stuck. Stuck between release and despair, between heartache and anger, between desperation and panic. I feel like destroying something, but I’ve never been one to take things out on stuff, so I’m left with destroying myself. That’s just stupid, but the emotional mind is trying to come up with anything it can to make this right. Which goes back to why I don’t trust it.
I want her back. I need her back. Sometimes that’s all I can think about, but in the darkest moments I find myself asking, “what if she is right? What if we are better off apart? What if you need her because you’ve never made yourself whole?”
