No, I’m not bitter. That’s only been the case once, really, even though I’ve been unattached far more than not on Valentine’s Day, a celebration of a guy getting lynched and beheaded. Okay, maybe twice on the bitterness front. One year I got dumped just three weeks prior, so that one was a given, and the year after, there was residual angst. Anyway, I get to spend a cheap day doing nothing while other guys lay out a pretty penny on flowers (with prices jacked up 2 or 3 times) and candy and various other sundries.
I’m always amused by the tales of huge workouts and careful eating resulting in weight gains, as contrasted to laissez faire food choices and minimal exercise leading to losses. I’m pretty sure we’ve all been there, at one point or another. I’d like to think it all evens out in the end, leaving the real scale movement to the combinations that make sense (ie better food and exercise equals losses, and, I suppose, vice versa).
Today’s a “I just don’t wanna” day, in terms of exercise, or getting to the gym. Still have 4-5 hours to remedy that before the gym closes, see if I can roust myself. If I need an excuse, I’ll point to my right eye. I poked myself in it yesterday, and while no damage was incurred upon the eyeball itself, I somehow managed to scratch the outside of the eyelid in three spots. One of those, “You don’t realize how often you touch your face until you cause (very minor) injury to one of the spots that gets hit over and over and over again” incidents.
Going to the favorites well with music today, the last couple hours spent listening to Rush. Thought I’d share an instrumental with you folks, “La Villa Strangiato”. It’s subtitled “An Exercise in Self-Indulgence”, which might cause eye rolls amongst non fans who already view these Canadians’ work as self-indulgent. To which I have a 6 word rejoinder: Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. And that might be the last time you see me reference that institution positively. Although, if I ever make it down to Cleveland to check it out, I reserve the right to repeat that statement.
Last thought, it was 9 years and 1 day ago, 2/13/04, that I went skiing for the first and only time in my life. I bring this up because a couple of years ago, I found a receipt from that day, as well as liability waiver I’d signed, on which I listed my weight as 165 lbs. That’s my goal for the end of the year. Ten years after that day, 2/13/2014, I want to weigh the same as I did on 2/13/2004. Or less. I guess I wouldn’t mind that, either.
And now I’m having flashbacks to the year 2000, during physical therapy after ACL surgery, when I hopped on a scale with my withered leg, and it showed 158 lbs, and the nurse expressed surprise, saying she never would have guessed I weighed that much just looking at me. The whole skinny fatness thing, pounds hidden in the trunk while the arms/legs/face looked ok. Years later, the face, at least, had caught up with the reality, leading, in part, to my popping in here.