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CONSISTENCY

22 July 2015, 12:03

Yup. Looking at the treadmill for the first time in a week. My consistency is for shit, especially when my mundane routine is interrupted. Ole Dougie got a tooth yanked out of his head so he’s home for the week. For some reason, which is probably deeply psychologically rooted and probably has a lot to do with neurosis, repressed anger and resentment, and a frantic search for a reason NOT to do the treadmill, my little exercise thing gets put on hold. I find reasons not to do it. Well. I don’t even have to find a REASON. I don’t feel the guilt in not doing it. Probably stems from seeing somebody else lying round doing nothing, so I say “Well, hell. If they aren’t going to [INSERT IMAGINARY REQUIRED ACTIVITY] then, I don’t havta.”

Also, I don’t always log all the crap that I stuff into my gaping maw, and I hear that is critical to any fitness program. I truly believe that diet is the key to losing the pudge, and the less I eat, the less I’ll weigh. That’s how it’s been going so far, and the more I monitor my diet and just cut back in general, I start the downward stride to svelte. But that’s the part that has the weakest consistency record. THAT’S WHAT I NEED TO BE ANAL ABOUT. But. Fuck it. I try.

I broke through the pudge plateau last week and if I had kept on keeping on, I’d be well on the way downward to the next one. But I stopped, and now have to find motivation and all get on up the horse and ride that sucker again. This week is a bit of a downer, though. Last week, a ton of interviews. This week, not a peep. WTF all over the place. Not going to stress upon that. No stress. None. If I say it enough, maybe I can actually accomplish that. Plus two out of the four requests for interviews were WAY THE HELL OUT THERE (THERE meaning over two hours away). So that would have been a good bit of gas burned for a job I cannot take.

I REALLY, TRULY, WHOLEHEARTEDLY, DON’T WANT TO DO THE TREADY. SERIOUSLY.

Well. Time to climb on board. Shoulda did it ten minutes ago, but stalling is part of my process.

SO IT’S BREAK NUMBER ONE AFTER MILE NUMBER ONE

I stuck the fucker on 8% incline so that I might see if I get a little bit more bang for my reluctant buck. I figure if the calories burned was within, say 20 calories of my 5% incline total, hell, then it could go back down to 5% and I could cut out all this unnecessary suffering and toil. Ever hoping this increase meant as much to me as a Donald Trump presidential run, I needed to be within 20 calories of 154. PLEASE oh god. COME ON. CUT ME AND MY PUDGE LADEN BODY A BREAK. I calculated, that even at the slower speed that I did than normal, calorie burn was 202. FUCK ME AND THE HORSE I RODE IN ON.

I was friggin’ gonna lower the incline and cruise on. NOW, I HAVE TO KEEP ON DOING THAT SHIT AT 8%. Why, you ask? Well. CUZ. JUST CUZ. And some voice in my head, probably the same one that told David Berkowitz to shoot random motherfuckers, is wondering “if 8% is this good, why don’t you try 9% or 10%.” What the HOLY BLUE RABBIT POOPS are you trying to do to me. Thank the lords of Kobol that my tready maxes at 10% because I think the voice in my head is trying to kill me.

I’m sitting here resting, debating whether to keep it at 8% or lower it to 5%. One neurosis is saying, “fuck this, go have pizza rolls.” And five others are screaming it down “YOU STINKING PUSSY…”

AND NOW BREAK NUMBER TWO AFTER MILE NUMBER TWO

Yup, I’m about 5 minutes away from vomiting. UGH. Okay, Riddle me this Batman, I got back up there, and it was 100x easier. It could be because of a number of things:

1) The long rest I had before.
2) Endorphies and insanity setting in.
3) The first day back is always the easiest even though I never realize it.
4) This came on my iphone, and I listened to it non-stop for twenty minutes:

I have this ability (maybe everybody does, who knows), that I TOTALLY can concentrate on a song or a thought, to the point I am not cognizant of anything else – for example, I zoned in on this song, didn’t even realize I was walking, and legs/breathing/everything else went on autopilot was I was imagining being the bass player for this song. That’s the one good thing about being a fantasy-prone individual, the transfer to my imaginary worlds are total. The one bad thing is the constant alien abductions happening to me and numerous bigfoot sightings I keep having. I have treadied about 300 more calories than I have taken in today, and the one good thing about stupid exercise is that it kills my appetite, so I am not hungry at all.

Really. COME ON. LET’S GET BACK ON THAT TREADMILL. ONLY 20 MORE MINUTES TO GO.

ALL DONE NOW.

blah. vomit. tired.