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1 April 2015, 11:24

So, I took a week off of tready time to eat brownies and sit around.

All the internet advice, I decided was right. And all the internet advice is wrong.

What do you do when your willing and able, but you don’t know what to do and you refuse to pay an overdevelop gym nazi to tell you what to do? Just because they are genetically closer to Hitler’s master race, THEY automatically know what to do? Well, fuck you, I’m half Asian and probably a direct descendant from our alien overlords – and guess what? When our eventual overthrow of the human race happens, all you gym nazi rat bastards are the first against the wall.

I decided, barring my first heart attack, that I need to get my heart rate up and keep it there. Everything I read said short burst of killing-me-quickly exercise is better than the long, steady moderate pace shit. So for the next little bit, I’ve changed it up. I’m actually running on the tready, dangerously quick (running for me is 6 miles an hour – it’s at the feeling it pace without being the shit-can’t-breathe-passing-out-now pace) – for ONE mile. Yeah, yeah. It’s sounds like diddly squat, but you have to remember, I’m not in shape and my stamina is for shit. I figure ONE out of THREE miles killing myself is good enough for now. I got my heart rate to bobble between 128 and 134, so that goal is attained. And getting those wonderful side pains.

Resting halfway, though, because man, just, well, I need to…

It’s a short rumblie. Nothing much is going on.

No interviews.
Nothing to do.
Orange kitty is getting his balls cut off Thursday.

And I’ve cut out junky junk food for the most part. And boy to I miss it. Brownies, cookies, cake. I still enjoy the box of Mike & Ikes every week or so, but you can’t count that as actual food. It’s more of a petroleum based, suppository shaped lump of gummy sugar. Ain’t nothing better.

Just writing to stall doing that last thirty minutes and to let you know what I’m doing so that if I do drop over stone dead, somebody will know to call 911 in a week or so when I don’t write.

  • Later

So, I researched until I found an article that will back up the conclusion I want: http://greatist.com/fitness/walking-good-workout-running. Not only am I getting fit and thin, but I am redefining the scientific method… Getting fit AND redefining the Scientific Method.

This running shit has gotten me to the vomit/pain stage of tired. Fucked up as that might be, in my head, that’s what’s indicating it’s being effective.

  • All DONE.

Calculated calories burned. About the same as walking but now I feel that suicidal, vomit thing I use to, and the whole head swimming thing. So, I am convinced that sprinting intervals is doing me more good than walking.

Now. Just going sit here for a minute or 15 and try to keep from upchucking tea.