The problem, really, is that I didn't just blow off updating this blog but I blew off working on my health, too. I have many excuses of course, but they're not getting me very far.
So what brings me back? Well, I'm frankly too pale of liver to run in this weather (it's been below freezing where I am for quite a while now) but I have been back at the weights. Lifting small baby weights in the basement before work, but I'll take it.
Christmas had brought with it the breaking point, as far as weight is concerned: that moment where you have to concede that yes, you have gained quite a lot of weight and no, it is not better than it seems. It's pretty bad. In the first few weeks of 2015 I lost what felt like quite a lot of weight: about nine pounds! Unfortunately the piper must be paid and my weight is now stubbornly sticking to the same mark with not much movement in sight. My dreams of getting to 200lbs by June are mostly in tatters. We'll see.
Until then I'm battling on, looking to control the diet and keep the weights up. I love weights. Many men do. It fulfills a macho desire to exercise in a manly confident way while also not feeling all that hard. That's the problem of course; it should be hard. My experience with weights is mixed. I get positive results fairly quickly but I don't push myself as far as I could. A friend once took me to the gym and marveled at how quickly my arms just stopped working. To be fair, dips are tough when you're lifting over 200lbs of body weight.
At the moment I'm walking around work with arms and legs twitching with that odd sensation between pain and the feeling your limbs have in the seconds after you get out of bed a little earlier than planned. I love it, undeniable proof that I have done something to my body, and seeing as how my body has been making me feel bad for so long, I hope that something is profoundly negative. I have an odd approach to exercise in this way. I consider my body something separate from myself, and I hate it. I need it to live but otherwise I want it to suffer. This has typically been an effective strategy for exercising too, though it's undermined by my love of chocolate.
Speaking of which, I am off chocolate, as I am every year at this time. I'm currently craving everything, but for today I'll leave you with an image of a food item I spent about three minutes uninterrupted standing in front of this evening in the grocery store before accepting this was a sign of my desperation more than any actual desire to eat the damn thing.
Three minutes. That wasn't an exaggeration.
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