Anybody who knows me knows some very defining attributes about my character, namely, that I'm a fat drunk. Well, not really fat, more like a bit paunchy- but definitely a drunk. A debaucherous animal that caters only to it's carnal whims. A chain-smoking, hard drinking, sexy animal, mind you. (And I can't lie, I've loved every minute of it.)
However, the other day I decided to get off my lazy ass to engage in my quarter-yearly act of masochism, otherwise known to the world at large as exercise.
And aside from the abject humiliation of dragging my silly ass around the block in full view of all the college denizens with all their smarmy youth, oh, and the wheezing escaping from my lungs that sounded like nothing less than a squeaky dog toy gone bad, it was great. And by great, I mean I thought I was going to puke. But I didn't, nor did I faint or cry, which seemed like definite possibilities at one point, or stopped running until I reached my mark. So there's that. I also hit the weights before and after the jog, and threw in some calisthenics for good measure. Then got a nice protein laden meal.
So of course the feeling afterward was pure ecstasy. You get that pump, the kind that makes you all swoll, makes you spend 10 minutes flexing in the mirror, cheesing at chicks, and walking around with your chest all puffed out. And all was right in the world, which is a good place to stop, if you have any sense about you.
But then I made that fatal mistake we all do when perched on the top of the world: I uttered those damning words, you know which ones, those whispers of delusional self-confidence mumbled only by the brain damaged or the mad. I said: "I'm gonna make this a habit!" And with all the sincerity I reserve for those statements such as "Of course I love you, baby, now let's get those pants off" and "I'm not really into blow anymore", I, more-or-less, pretty much meant it.
But WTF was I thinking? That was not only a stupid thing to promise myself, it was also insane considering my penchant for laughing in the face of people who "try".
And now here it is, the end of day three (the second I took off to heal) and my running shoes are sitting there laughing at me. Those !@#$%^&* are enjoying my usual descent into apathy. They're saying "ha ha, don't you have enough habits as it is? Fun habits that don't require copious amounts of sweating or getting out of bed any earlier than absolutely necessary?" And I have to admit, o shoes of great wisdom, you make some very valid points.
I've enjoyed the way things are. Shouldn't I just be content to work and live life the easiest way possible? My failure to pick up the torch again today is pretty indicative of the body and mind's natural state. And who am I to question that, right? In this old age, it's pretty impossible to change such ingrained tenancies like sloth and loserdom. So it seems.
...but you know what?
I've had enough. No more whining. No more procrastination. It's time. I hear-by proclaim and make public my desire to embrace a new standard of physical health. To become faster, stronger, more unstoppable than ever before. To once again feel the power of one's body fine-tuned into a machine of explosive ability. The goal is now announced, and I won't back out now. The avatar of the modern warrior beckons for me to re-join the ranks of ass-kickers and name-takers.
So $%&@ you, running shoes, I'm gonna shove my feet so far up your shoe-holes your tongues will be ticking my toes. And then I'm going wear your sorry soles out ever other day for the next month!
I was inspired by this exert from a blog post titled "13 Things to Avoid When Changing Habits"
8. Having no accountability. Speaking of accountability, it’s the second half of the all-important public commitment. It’s not enough to make a big announcement on your blog and not follow through. For example, I announced my plans to get in shape earlier to all of you … but I also created a small training blog (or “tralog”) that will help keep me accountable. I report my progress daily, whether I fail or succeed. Take a look at my “tralog”. Even if you don’t have a blog, you have to set up a system where you remain accountable — maybe post your log up at your workplace, or email your progress to people, or just report to them daily in person.
So there you have it. I'm making a month long commitment to develop the habit of exercising every other day. Once that's done, and my body is adjusted to the rigors, I'll probably switch it up into split routines so I can work out 6 days a week.
Failure or success, I'm going to post in this entry every day I'm supposed to exercise.
Wish me luck. I'll probably need it.