Friday, June 13, 2008


GAWD - I thought I never say without at least some hint of sarcasm, but really, I truly feel like my body has an unfortunate consistency not un-like Jell-O. Keep in mind, I am not some kind of twinky-hard-bodied-gym-rat; never have been, and probably never will be (I'm totally fine with this).

Having said that, the last time I went to the gym was about 3 weeks ago. That's the longest stretch I've gone in over 2 years. Since the getting-hit-by-a-car thing my body feels sore in a new, random place every day, and instead of risking further injury by lifting weights or utilizing an elliptical machine, I've been parking my fat-ass on the couch to "rest" (i.e. watch Cubs games and drinking beer).

Well, no more. The turning point occurred just this morning while driving to work. When I drove over a set of railroad track I could actually feel my stomach jiggle. Late in the day I was bounding down a flight of stairs and I felt my ass also jiggle. My arms looks smaller than they normally do - what the fuck happened to my triceps?

No matter how hungover I may be tomorrow, I am forcing my bloated excuse for a body to the gym, come hell or high water. I desperately crave that release of sweet, sweet endorphins. To be sore on purpose, and not because of some asshole's lack of driving acumen seems so rewarding - I can almost taste the sweat beading on my forehead.

This has nothing to do with the rest of this post...but there no excuse is needed to enjoy some Bill Withers.

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