We are going to take a few days off from the endless story of a Christmas Tale, which turned into a battle of good vs. evil, the endless struggle of man, and supernatural beings, tackling the problems associated with rampant automation, employee apathy, and corporate corruption (how did this happen, anyway?). It is really a timeless tale, but, we need a little break. Plus, I am working on the next image on Bitstrips, which is a gas, and may revolutionize blogging.
Instead we are going to do a year in review. Life Explained, Ohio Office (OHHELLNO) looks back on 2015.
As far as anybody around here remembers 2015 started in January. But, it was a long time ago. We are searching for proof, but nobody can find a calendar, so we are not going to make any bold declarations. We think the year started in January.
Which, oddly enough, was when I started going to the gym, and it was filled with people. Lycra clad, colorful, groups of people who moved in unison, amoeba like, from area to area, talking and chatting, laughing, and having a good time.
Then came February, the cold, short month, where we celebrate Saint Valentines Day.* And the
crowd of people at the gym disappeared, and many days I was the only person in the place. It had become the Life Explained Memorial Gym.
March, Since I became a workout guy, I went to the Arnold Festival at the Columbus Convention Center. Plus, in one of the highlights of my life, we went to an NCAA tournament game. Oklahoma beat Dayton at Nationwide Arena. It was fantastic.
April, May, we think, were pretty uneventful. It seems something happened in there somewhere, but darned if we can remember what it was.
June, and we took a trip to the Black Hills, and that was cool.
July, August, September, where kind of a blur. November and December, it is hard to look at them in the past, so we are going to pretend they don't exist, kind of like evidence that disproves anything we believe.
* Who has negotiated a prominent part in the Christmas Tale gone awry. Depending on how you define prominent.
Joining a gym is sort of intimidating. People walk with purpose and intent, stern and efficient. Finishing one set of exercises, striding to the next, a straight line of exercise geometry. Nobody smiles, or stops to talk.
Until recently the only time I had ever entered a gym was to play basketball, but age and injury forced me to retire. Now, the gym is where I go to exercise. But, it still has to be fun, I need to enjoy my time. I don't want to become a person who glares from station to station, unwavering, looking like he is being sentenced for a crime.
I am starting to work on a plan, "tonight I will do ab crunches on the ball, then cable rows, and dips, and curls, and, other things that I can't think of right now." But, truth is, planning is not a strength of mine. Life has taught me that learning to flow with change is more important, or maybe I am just not very disciplined. Take your pick. I will not be offended.
Honestly, some of the exercise machines are still a complete mystery to me, so I watch other people use them and then I try to imitate what they did. There is one machine in the free weight section that is completely alien looking, and I still haven't seen anybody use it. It stands right in the middle, and people walk around it, and take weights off of it for barbells or other machines, but nobody ever sits, or leans on the apparatus, and starts lifting. It has become an obsession, I will watch until somebody uses it.
And, while drifting from place to place, headphones in, Dylan, or the Dead, or Tull or somebody
rocking and rolling through the workout with me, I smile at people, and say hello. And sometimes they smile back, and sometimes they don't. Dylan and I don't care. We are there to improve ourselves, and that includes being nice to people.
I am at a loss as to why all of these people with the same goal, exercise, aren't more open, and friendly. We are all working towards the same goals, being healthier. But, we are not going to make eye contact, or acknowledge each other.
In many ways it reminds me of my time in a Catholic high school. I was not a good student, and was only biding my time until I could reach escape velocity. But, I wasn't a real trouble maker or problem, either, but when trouble came, it came in the form of an angry principal. And his anger and loathing were palpable, and the air was thick with rage. I always wondered how he could be so angry, we were both Catholics, we were not that far apart, and yet it always seemed that he hated me intensely. In all fairness, I did deserve to be talked to, I was lazy and apathetic, but in my own defense I was not mean, violent, or a real distraction for anybody.
Today is a joyous day, and I am singing the praises of Friday to the heavens. For one thing it is Friday, and that is hard to beat. This morning the coffee is so good it is almost unbelievable.
Recently my gym closed to move and expand. It was part of the local YMCA. It was small, and lightly equipped, but it was free. It was a benefit of being of my wife's job, and I was pretty happy there.
Since they moved, and expanded spouses are no longer allowed to use it for free, so I had to join the YMCA. Last night we went over and joined. It is huge, filled with weights, and machines and all of those devices that show up so frequently in the Health Whacko. It used to make me think, I need to join a better gym, (when I wasn't seething with envy) now I have. Plus I get three free sessions with a personal trainer. Pictures will come later.
Also, I have a smart watch. Well, it is not really smart, but it tells me the time, month, day and date, and it has a few functions that defy explanation, So, it might be smarter than me. Plus, it is attractive, functional and durable, so that makes it pretty smart for a guy who is hard on watches. Moreover, it is very complimentary, and that is a better than email, or text messages.
And, if that weren't enough, on my way to work this morning, I got stuck in the slow lane. It was rainy, and all the lanes were slow, so it was expected. But, my phone sensed the tension in the car, and played a lot of very appropriate songs.
Here is one of the choices.
To recap, a new gym, hot coffee, a very polite watch, and good music. Fridays are a great way to start the weekend.
After two weeks of vacation, endless hours sitting in the car, not eating as well as I should have, and not exercising at all it was back to the gym last night. Since it was kind of introductory, I decided to forgo the podcasts, and "kick out the jams, brothers, and sisters."*
Hitting the treadmill, starting slowly, Van Morrison singing "Jackie Wilson Said (I"m in Heaven when you smile). A nice tempo to start, cruising along, me and Van, and when he sang "honey child, you make my day" we were hitting our stride. Breathing and moving, blood flowing, heart beating, sing it Van!
"True Love" by the Del Lords was next, it was a great way to start the high intensity part of the interval training, and we were cruising. Turn up the speed, turn up the volume, and go.
"Found a parking spot, all right,
Tonight's gonna be my night."
Man, those guys are great, and when the song ended and the speed was reduced, the heartbeat was up where it should be, and things were great. It is a song with a driving beat, and a happy, positive message, a song that can make a person smile. It is about a guy who goes to work, comes home, and goes out to find the love of his life. He can "feel it any minute, gonna look up and find a true love." Call me naive, but that kind of hope flying in the face of desperate odds is powerful magic.
The Del Lords write from a variety of places, anger, sadness, desperation, and joy equally well, and they can drive a song with hammering drums, and blazing guitars, and I love those guys. They are the ultimate in cool.
But, it was time to cool down with the mellow sounds of "One more cup of coffee" from Bob Dylan. A song about, well who knows what it is about, but the message is universal, undeniable, and customizable. To this day that song gives me the chills.
Not really my gym, and not really Patty Smyth.
This cycle repeated for twenty minutes, and it seemed wise to finish big. My last high intensity burst was set to "Goodbye to You" from Patty Smyth and Scandal. A song written by Zach Smith. A scathing diatribe against the vanity of mankind, and the excesses of modern relationships. Yes, it was written and performed in the eighties, but mankind and relationships don't really change much. And in evolutionary terms, the eighties were only minutes ago, so neither has changed at all.
It is not a long song, less than 4 minutes, so the speed was cranked up on the treadmill, and we were off. Four minutes, at that pace, that far into my first workout back from vacation was like an eternity, and when she sang, "Goodbye to you, so long darling," she could have been talking to me, my life was slipping away, one gasping, painful breath at a time. The room was getting darker, but that may have been the motion activated lights, since I was the only one there, and I was set to expire. Maybe the sensors can tell, but that is another blog post.
And, then it hit me, Patty Smyth and Scandal tried to kill me. It is not clear why, but I forgive them. Tolerance, acceptance and forgiveness is what makes life worth living. So, Patty, we are still friends, and you are still one of the greatest voices in music, and I will see you Wednesday, at the gym, earlier in the workout.
Now that I am working out (a lifter) it seemed only natural that I would attend the Arnold Fitness Festival. An extravagant, hectic, crowded assembly, packing the Columbus Convention Center from one end to the other. Attendees run the gamut from extremely fit to fitness challenged (I like to think of myself as fitness challenged Plus, working to physically fit light). Having never been there before I was not sure what I would see. What I did see was a little amazing, a little frightening, and a lot of entertaining. Convention centers share several characteristics. Most are designed around a long central hall, with large rooms, with big exhibition rooms branching off at more or less regular intervals. Often these rooms have pocket style walls allowing for adjustable sizes, and numerous configurations. But, if you want to take the pulse of an event you want the long central hall. That is where everybody congregates, where all of the meetings take place. When viewed from the proper perspective the central hall is like a combination of a parade, and a an airport terminal, mixed with a little bit of reunion, maybe family, maybe school, possibly even neighborhood. Hugs, handshakes, smiles, and laughter ring through the hall, repeated down the length of the hall, and echoing, inviting and warm, it can give you hope. This perspective is from above the fray. Climb the stairs to the upper hall, look down on the masses, and it looks happy and joyous. Of course, the view from the main floor is a little different. Down there it is competition, survival of the fittest, a mad dash to an imaginary finish line. Competitors weaving in and out of the slow moving traffic. Down here the happiness, and pleasantries are few, fleeting, and on the fringes where nothing is moving. Soon, the flow will even grab the celebrants, sweeping them along in flood of humanity, toward the next available eddy. Oddly enough, both views are correct. And when you go to these things you have to enjoy both. There is a sense of omnipotence looking down on the masses from an elevated position, safe and sound, but the real feel of the festival is among the throng feeling the energy of the crowd. If you are looking for insight, and exercise tips, though, you are probably in the wrong place. The body builders are doing a job, and performing a routine, the vendors want to sell their supplements or equipment, which is fine, because that is why they came. So, don't expect any revelations. If that sounds unreasonable ask yourself what advice you expect. Work very hard, and push yourself to the very edge, and then push yourself some more. Make lifting and exercising a life style, sacrifice, toil, slave, and work, work, work, and you can be muscular beyond belief. We all know that fitness requires effort, would that it didn't, but it does. There are no shortcuts, that's why people admire body builders, not because it is easy. If you have the opportunity go to the Fitness Expo, or anything similar, it is fun, and there are crowds, and a herd like solidarity, and all of the colors of life. People like you, and people who are nothing like you, and all of the types in between. There are exhibits, and displays and the energy of all that life crammed in such a small place. But, if you go to the Arnold Festival in Columbus, walk 3 blocks west and hit the North Market for some hot dogs and potato chips at the "Best Wurst," you will need the protein.
Last night was the start of the third month of going to the gym. It has been wonderful! My youth was an endless cycle of wretched, self-destructive behavior that often manifests itself in unexpected and painful ways. Yesterday while loading my "gym bag"* I felt a twinge in my lower back, on the left side. A twinge that turned, quickly, into a pang, and slid right into a debilitating ache of unbelievable agony**
After an internal debate that lasted most of the day I decided to go ahead and hit the gym. Reasoning that I could, at least, do my aerobic workout and then see how I felt. Oddly enough, the treadmill loosened up my sore back. And I managed to get my heart rate up and maintain the level for quite a while. In fact, things were going so well I had to stop and find a pod cast. Honestly, I thought it would be over so quickly that something new was unnecessary. But, soon things felt so good, I was on to "Sparta" from the "In Our Time" podcast series.
I am researching Sparta, and Athens (and the animosity and competition for supremacy that led to the awful excesses of the Peloponnesian war) for my new blog My New History Blog. I really like the "In Our Time" series, it is British, and the accent adds authority, but, the guests always have titles like "Ancient History Chair, at Oxford." So, it is not only the accent that gives the show credibility. Plus, they provide a lot of detail, in a way that keeps moving, and adds life to societies long gone.
After spending a good deal of time, and a great deal of effort, on the treadmill, I was feeling pretty loose, and ready for some resistance training. Since my back was still a little sore I decided to use the free weights. I have been meaning to branch out a little anyway, and the resistance machines really seem to require a whole body effort. Plus, I read that varying your workout provides increased benefits, so this was the ideal time.
After asking the attendant about the best way to start I jumped right in. Dang, it is a completely different workout! They have no barbells, only dumbbells, but it is crazy how difficult it can be to move those heavy, little units from one place (down by your body, laying on the bench) to the top of a path described by the full extension of your arms. Not only do you have to lift them, you have to control them, they wobble, and twist, and almost seem animated. It is less lifting weights, and more wrestling weights. It is a constant struggle to keep them from taking off and going wherever they want. It was an eye opening experience, and I loved it. This morning, it is still with me, in my shoulders, my sides, and my arms.
I have decided to make free weights part of my weekly routine. And, I have decided to start my history blog with Greece, it was going to start with Egypt, and Thutmose, but since I am in the middle of this podcast, and have a book about the subject, and it is my blog, after all, it will not be chronological, and proceed in a random order. Don't worry, when they publish the book, and make the movie we can arrange it in a more orderly fashion.
Since I am a "lifter" now I may go to the Arnold Fitness Festival this weekend, so keep your eye open for that post, it will be great, or at least different.
*Technically, it is a back pack, that pulls duty as my "writers bag" my "travel bag" and occasionally my "photographers bag," though almost all of my photos are taken on my iPhone™ so normally my "photographers bag" is just a pocket.
**Well, maybe it wasn't that bad, but it hurt, a lot.
It was a great workout last night. I have added 15 pounds to all of the resistance machines, and two new exercises. Today, I feel euphoric. Exercise gives a great deal of pleasure, but it does demand a little pain. It is worth every second, though. I do need to use the treadmill, elliptical machine, or exercise bike with a little more vigor. Tomorrow is my next trip, Look out Cardio, here I come.
This gym is fantastic, it is free for one thing, and when I go there is hardly anyone there. Plus, I am the only one who ever uses the resistance machines, at least during my visits. Most of the people who use the gym are in a condition similar to mine. They are older, and just trying to stay even with gravity. I fit right in.
Of course, it is in an auxiliary high school building, after school is dismissed, so occasionally you will have a couple of high schoolers winding up the treadmills to about 55 miles an hour, talking, and laughing, and just being all kinds of healthy and happy, and irritating as all hell! Punks! Just turn up the pod cast, wipe the sweat from my face, and think "someday that will be difficult for you, also."
Last night was the Mongol invasion of Jin China. And, this post was supposed to cover that, but there are a couple of problems. First, it was huge, way too big for one small post. Second, it was brutal. Since I have started working out, and listening to history podcasts, and reading to fill in details left uncovered, I have learned that people are animals.
Yes, the Mongols fought savagely, and won barbarically, but they were not really unique. Not in the results of the victory, certainly, they were probably unique in the number of conquests, but the results were unchanged.
From the earliest recorded times winners have been ruthless. There is no reason to believe that it was not the same before someone started cataloging the events. Assyrians, Huns, Vandals, Goths, probably as far back as Tuthmose, ("the Napoleon of Egypt) but I am still researching that. And, it doesn't seem we have changed all that much. Which makes me a little apprehensive about our future.
I do plan to write about these things, but, this blog was created for me to have a little fun, lately I have forgotten that. So, I am going to start another blog, for my headlong dive into the past. I will post a link, if you want to follow. And, I will get back to the nonsense that makes me happy here.
Thank you, all it has been fun, and I view you all as friends.
Last night was the end of week (I am not sure, it was either 4 or 5)? at the gym. It was empty, which is nice, in a way. Rows of equipment standing still, watching me, waiting to see which one I would pick, you could hear the "oooh, pick me, pick me."
Working out in an empty gym is nice, it makes me feel dedicated, I could hear the theme song from Rocky playing in my head. I wish they would install a "heavy bag," it would make the image complete, a "speed bag" would do nothing to further the dream, unless you count the Marx Brothers Boxing Academy as part of the dream. When done properly a speed bag is art, when not used correctly it is a ridiculous dance, it looks absurd, and I am not even that good.
I used a treadmill, and an elliptical machine, and really pushed myself. I got my heartrate higher than any of my previous workouts, and held it longer. I don't care for exercise bikes, the traditional type is distasteful, but the recumbent kind is terrible. It feels silly, and unnatural, and I will only use them when the other machines are used.
Actually, my standards have become much broader. In the beginning there had to be a one machine buffer zone, which is still preferred, but not necessary. Last night I started on the elliptical machine, which was, I thought, my favorite, but moved to a treadmill, which now I know, is my favorite. Elliptical machines are good, but it does not seem as natural as a treadmill, picking 'em up and putting 'em down is the original form of transportation, and I am nothing if not a traditionalist.
Moving on to the resistance machines. I increased the weight, and pushed as hard as possible. More weight than any precious attempt. It was refreshing, invigorating, fantastic, and terrible. Straining, pushing, and trying to remember to breathe correctly. Inhale, exhale, repeat. Sore muscles, aching and stiffness, it was a glorious feeling walking down the endless staircase and across the miles of barren, salty, grey asphalt to my car. Somehow the soreness made the whole scene a little brighter.
Last night's podcast was "The Character Called the Writer" from Writing Challenges. I would like to tell you about it, but there were a lot of instructions, and a couple of pauses to write them down. Since I was in the middle of an "Arm Blaster", a particularly cruel portion of the workout on an elliptical machine, pulling with your arms until your shoulders and elbows ache, and your ego is bruised because you know it looks preposterous. Since I was the only one, it was probably ok. But, I didn't have a chance to write down the instructions. It reminded me of High School. Who had time to take notes while trying to blend in, not be noticed and facing the abject terror that the teacher may actually ask you to answer the question you didn't hear. Who had time?
Last night was Gym night, and honestly it is getting better. It is not getting easier, because each night I push a little harder. I have raised my target heart rate, significantly, and maintain it longer. Which means working until my lungs burn, and breathing is difficult. Don't, ever, under any circumstances, let the machine, in this case a treadmill, dictate your workout. Last night, thinking it was time to take the next step, I chose "Zone Training" and the machine asked me for my age, I typed in fifty five, (not my real age (ok it is my real age)), and there was an odd noise, and a slight shake, the treadmill had laughed, softly, maliciously, and the digital display offered a suggestion for a target heart rate, which was about 115. After pressing the "OK" button we started, the treadmill and I were off. With the program choosing the pace I was free to choose a song. In this case "Bright Lights, Big City" by Them, a band Van Morrison was with during the Sixties. I bought the album "Still on Top – The Greatest Hits" from Amazon, and this song was on there, along with one of my favorite versions of "Baby Please Don't Go." It is a great song. In fact, I have decided to collect different versions. There are probably dozens of artists who have recorded "Baby, Please Don't Go," and I am on a quest to find all the copies that appeal to me,. Let me know if you have a version that you enjoy. Anyway, the machine started slowly, letting me warm up. Then it increased the speed and steepened the incline, and I when I took my hand off the heartrate sensor to wipe the sweat from my forehead. it flashed,angrily and obnoxiously enough to cause a seizure, "REPLACE HAND ON HEARTRATE SENSOR!" I did, and the machine upped the speed, and the incline. Soon, the incline was as steep as possible. It was like running up the side of a building. Van Morrison was spelling "G L O R I A, Gloria" in my ears, and it was miserable, not the song, the workout. The song was great. When I hit the target heartrate, gasping, sweating, lungs, legs, and oxygen deprived brain burning, the machine said "New Target Heartrate 136" I think, my vision was a little blurry, it might have been the sweat pouring down my face. The machine was giggling, shaking malevolently, or maybe I was having tremors it is hard to say. I pressed the button that said "Cool Down" wiped the sweat from my face. After my heartrate dropped into the seventies we did it again, the treadmill and I, repeating it two more times. The first attendant told me to do that, she called it interval training. And my wife told me she was serious about exercise, and very knowledgeable about training. After a stop to clean the treadmill, hey we are not animals after all, and a refreshing drink of water, I was off the resistance machines. Last night I kept track of what I did, using Wunderlist. When it becomes more impressive I will post a screen shot on here, but now it looks kind of wimpy, and painfully small. But I did add another machine with "leg extensions," Though I know I need to work harder, add more weight, and push a little more, I feel good about that. In fact, I feel good about myself, there is a euphoric lift from exercise, and I am glad I started. This was smart. If you are thinking about trying it, you should, trust me, I am no athlete, but am so glad I started. You will be also.8
Here are some observations made from repeated trips to the gym.
1. People with faulty memory diodes should use a notebook to keep track of weights and repetitions. Reality sends constant reminders; I am a "big picture" person, who has little time or patience for petty little details (like the names of my co-workers, they are all Bob, to me). When sitting down on the resistance training machine I am at a complete loss for where I should put the little pin, locking the weights into place.
There is a conversation raging in my head "it was at 80 yesterday, we should stay there for a while and just increase the reps." The more reasonable side will say.
"No, 80 is for wimps, we were at 100, at least, and we should go for 120 today. You wouldn't like that though, you are too lazy to even say the whole word 'repetitions.'" The less reasonable side will reply.
Pretty soon it gets heated and I have to step in and say, "why don't we use 90 pounds, and do as many repetitions as possible." But, they are no longer talking to each other, or me, so that is what we do. A record of previous workouts would save a lot of aggravation, and we could go back to arguing about important things, like which podcast should be next.
2. Even though my elbow feels like it is on fire, it isn't. I looked, and it seems fine. Which indicates something is wrong inside. Not being a doctor limits the scope of the diagnosis, but it is probably something in the joint, or the muscle, or the attaching ligaments, or tendons. I think.
This injury has reared its ugly head before. One time it got so bad I even took it to the doctor. He looked it over and said it was not an uncommon problem among aging men. And, they could repair it, by cutting open the elbow, and grinding down the canal on the bone, where the nerve, or something ran. I don't really remember what it was, because at surgery I started getting a little shaky, warm, and lightheaded. When he started to talk about using a grinder on my bone the room started spinning. I don't remember too much after that. But, my elbow felt a lot better, as I sprinted from the office, yelling my thanks at the doctors, nurses, reception personnel, and patients.
3. Exercising has a lot of benefits. Yes, there is the long term health improvement, which is why I started. But, there is an immediate boost, I feel better. Moreover, I feel better about myself. Feeling better about myself has made me look for other ways to improve, and there is a vegetable in my lunch everyday, and a glass or two of water in place of a carbonated, sugary soft drink.
Exercising is not the chore I feared it would be, today is my day off from the gym, so I have time to work out the best way to track my efforts, maybe Wunderlist, or Allthings, it has to be something that will allow the use of photos, or pictures of some kind. Adding some art makes it more fun, and hey entertainment is cool. If you have any suggestions for an iOS app that will work let me know, please.
Inclement weather caused schools to be cancelled for two days last week. Since the gym where the miracle is scheduled to be performed is in a school building the physical section of the transformation of Tim will begin this week.
For those of you keeping score at home, the writing portion of the transformation has already begun. It is subtle, admittedly, but each time I put fingers to keyboard a conscious effort is made to add more, to change patterns, to bring more details to life. To those who have noticed, thanks, to those who haven't, well that is too bad, there will be a quiz, and that may spell big trouble. But, don't be too concerned, there is still time to repent.
Not going to the gym for the last week has given me the opportunity to research the use of various equipment. My wife asked if I were ready, and found an article for me to read, it was titled "Don't overdo it, and come home complaining because you are sore and aching." And it was written by my wife. Just kidding.
It was actually very helpful. It talked about using the various machines, and the benefits, and potential pitfalls of each. It was kind of eye opening, in that it was written for people over 50, which I am, and it made me realize that I am a complete dunderhead, (noun, informal; stupid person) when it came to all of these machines. They have all of these buttons, knobs, and gizmos (noun, informal; word used by dunderhead to describe a device he will never understand), none of which make sense. Some of them look like the cockpit on the space shuttle.
So, I have carefully researched my options, and am a much better informed consumer of gym services than I was at this time last week. I will walk into the gym this afternoon, head held high, and ask the attendant, who my wife assures me is a very nice young man, and is not likely to ridicule me (which means my wife probably briefed him, and he is prepared), how to operate the least intimidating looking machine I see. Eventually, the plan is to build a rapport with the attendant and have him show me how to operate all of the machines, and become a seasoned workout professional, rippling with sinewy muscle, exuding strength, and self confidence. But, that will take a while.
So, tomorrow, will be the first edition of the Great Transformation of Tim Newsletter! Don't forget to subscribe, you won't regret it, at least not very much. Hey, let me know if you have a workout resolution, or any self improvement goals for 2015. I would love to expand the newsletter.
2015 is here. And, looking ahead, this is the year I am going to make some changes. Normally, resolutions are anathema, but this year is different.
I have decided to become a better writer, (yes, I realize writer is a stretch, how about better at writing?) and on the 5th of January, next Monday, I am going to workshop. It is free, at a local library. It may help, it may not, but, it can't hurt. It is just the first step in the transformation of Tim.
Looking back, it is difficult to say when I decided this was the year. But, it was similar to when I decided to quit smoking, it was just time, there was no doubt, and I never looked back. This is the same thing, it is time, and it seems obvious. Here we go again.
Plus, I am going to start working out. There is a gym of sorts where my wife works, it has treadmills, rowing machines, resistance machines, stair climbers, free weights. Importantly, it has an employee who will help you understand how to use the machines. It is not a gym for body builders, or professional athletes, but it is more equipment than I could ever use. I am very excited by the opportunity, and on the 6th of January, next Tuesday, I am going to start going to the gym. Another step in the transformation.
My goals for exercise are going to be along the lines of "work out three days a week for at least thirty minutes each visit." I will add more concrete goals as my ability, and understanding increase. My goals for being a better writer are less easily defined, but I will come up with something.
To reward myself I bought myself a new notebook to track my progress. It has a quote from one of my favorite writers. And it was on clearance sale, which makes it so perfect.
I plan to document all of my attempts. Either on a page of my current blog, or a new blog, dedicated to the reconstruction. I am not sure which would be easier, I have been thinking about trying Word Press for a while, and maybe this is the perfect excuse. One more step in the process.
Change is coming. Nothing dramatic, nothing extreme, but self improvement does not need to be radical, and I won't last long if it is too difficult. As soon as I get the page or blog up and running I will post a link.
This year will be different, I am convinced. I hope you can join me, misery loves company, but so does success. I would love to hear about your plans to succeed next year.
Sunday, and it is rainy and early in the day, and cool and comfortable, and not even halfway through the weekend! Three day weekends are an application of delight, tonic for the soul, a wonderful, powerful thrilling joyride. So keen it almost seems illegal, or at least immoral. But, it isn't. Approved by the federal government, and endorsed by decent, loving, humane employers everywhere.
Yesterday was a day of labor, too. We went to the the Outlet Mall in Jeffersonville, a mythical place with unique physical properties, and a strange gravitational pull that grabs people from miles away and drags them across state lines to walk purposefully and determinedly across well traveled sidewalks and into busy stores. Once inside they will toil, grabbing for bargains, bickering among themselves, turning on employees, comparing prices to those offered by the ultimate of discount stores, Walmart. Often, this would spark intense debate concerning the location of the best deal, and thinly veiled accusations of stupidity, and mathematical incompetence. Further bickering would ensue, and soon the scene would deteriorate, the family openly split along visible lines, invoking visions of the Hatfields and McCoys, or Capulets and Montagues.
My big purchase was a "Doohickey" from Eddie Bauer. A bottle opener, screw driver, wrench, box cutter, ruler combination that clips onto a key ring. So far only the bottle opener has been field tested, and found to be passable taking two or three attempts to pop the top on an icy cold Red Stripe, directly in contrast to the ease of the model we keep in the drawer with the cutlery. This is in keeping with my new routine heavy on aerobic, and heart healthy exercise. I can almost feel the years being added to my life. My doctor will be so proud.
Soon the rain will pass, and the day will assume the glory entitled to the middle day of a three day weekend. An aroma of smoked ribs smothered in barbecue sauce is beginning to float through the neighborhood, the new bottle opener workout is calling, and I must answer. Until next time, friends.
March, Since I became a workout guy, I went to the Arnold Festival at the Columbus Convention Center. Plus, in one of the highlights of my life, we went to an NCAA tournament game. Oklahoma beat Dayton at Nationwide Arena. It was fantastic.
