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Sunday, 20 June 2010 (planning on it) 12:19pm No gym today. Marta's with me, I'm writing, and it's important to take a least one day off a week. But I'll be back tomorrow. | ||
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Saturday, 19 June 2010 (wine and fog) 9:39am I did make it to the gym after work yesterday for an hour of treadmilling, preceded by two hundred crunches two sets of ten. That's the number I used to do, and it worked. Then back home for a big salad for dinner and earlyish bedtime. Because it was Friday, and Fridays are all about earlyish bedtimes. Got to the gym this morning when it opened at seven—and it did open at seven—for the now-standard two hundred crunches and my full weights regimen (during which I finished the most recent Breaking Bad Insider Podcast and began last week's Le Show), then ran for an hour. The last ten minutes is always the toughest, when I have to convince myself to keep going. Though it's not too difficult to find the will, since I've shrunk down a bit from the 18W pants to the plain 'ol 18, and my weight is now hovering around 220, down from its recent mortifying peak of 240. It's dogmatic that weight is misleading because of muscle weighing more than fat, and I am working on my muscles as well, but the simple fact is that to get to the body I want (the body I've had before and thus will get again) (fun fact: at the very end of the video, I say dog and pony show in a competely different context) I still have a lot of fat to shed, and I'm not going to build up enough muscle to where I'd, say, be fit but weight 220, or even 200. I know I won't be really happy with myself until I hit at least 190. I mean, I'm actually very happy with myself right now because of yay progress and all, but I still, I know where I want to be an how to get there, and most importantly, how to stay there. The reason I've been on this godsdamned roller coaster for the past decade is because my fortunes keep changing, what with being incapable of hanging onto a job. Or, worse, getting a job but it paying so little (like my time in Sausalito) than I can no longer afford to keep going to the gym, which is what is absolutely necessary. Even continuing at part time at my current job, I'm making enough (and my overhead and general lifestyle is sufficiently inexpensive) to keep going, unlike when I started working for The Bad Man and had to let my membership at the local gym die. (Of course, the gym itself died shortly thereafter, just like the place where Raphaela and I worked. I seem to have that effect.) And the thing is, it's not just a matter of what I eat or walking for twenty minutes a day. I need the regular cardio and the sweat and the abs work and everything else. Otherwise, my nonexistent metabolism causes my body to inflate, and that's no good, and I don't want to go back to that, ever. And I wouldn't have gone back to that if not for losing my job at NakedSword last year thus throwing everything else into disarray, and...blech. I'm fairly certain the Stonestown YMCA ain't going away, and I'll be able to continue to afford it, and for all its faults (the parking lot springs to mind), it's my new home. Besides, I'm on the verge of taking the whole "literary rockstar" thing to the next level, or at least outside of San Francisco. Like, in addition to Unthank Books being based in England, I just found out that my contributions to the German artist's Book of Hours project are going to be translated into German. Which is kinda obvious now that I think about it, but it hadn't occurred to me before, and I'm thrilled about being translated. So, gotta look good for it all. And keep writing. | ||
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Friday, 18 June 2010 (solstitium fulminate) 9:39am After spending much of yesterday writing, Marta and I went to the California Academy of Sciences for NightLife, their big weekly nighttime event. The preponderance of drunken chodes and skanks was more than made up for by being able to catch two shows at the Morrison Planetarium, which I'm pretty sure I haven't been to since the Robert Rich concert in 2001, and of course it was torn and rebuilt between 2003 and 2008. So it's been open for three years now, and this was my first time there. That's kinda sloppy of me, considering how close I live to it. Anyway, along with a delicious Ethiopian meal beforehand, it was a perfect way to end a two-day birthday. I was back at the gym by five this morning, but I needn't have gotten there on time: the employee who was supposed to open the joint never showed up, and we didn't get in until nearly a quarter to six. A lot of people left since it was cold and stuff, and the real hardcore types spent the time outside jogging the neighborhood, but I decided to use it as a bonding experience, hanging out with some of the other regulars, specifically the ones who've been nice to me before. Some people give me the hairy eyeball and some people refuse eye contact with me lest their head explode (and I've seen them getting chatty with others), but some seem genuinely interested in me and want to get to know me, so I'm all for fostering those relationships, especially since I plan to stick around for a while. I have a few dozen more pounds to shed. Managed to get in ten minutes on the treadmill, then Damiel's abs class, then another half hour so on the treadmill. Better than nothing. At work now, one of my unusual Fridays. And after this, probably another gym visit, then back home for the evening. | ||
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Thursday, 17 June 2010 (the tragic figures) 9:39am Back at the gym this morning at five. I managed to get up at quarter past four and out of the house without waking Marta, and she tends to sleep a little better when I'm not in the bed anyway. I did my ten of ten crunches, then an abbreviated version of the weight stuff Damiel and I did yesterday. You're not supposed to do it two days in a row, since the muscles need time to repair themselves, but I needed to make sure I really remembered how to do all the moves, and (for some reason) the weight room is largely empty between five and six in the morning, which helps. Damiel was commenting yesterday on how quickly I picked up on a lot of stuff, how to hold my arms and bend my knees and stuff, and I gave all credit to Raphaela. I sure didn't know any of this stuff before we started. From there, an hour on the treadmill reading A Futile and Stupid Gesture: How Doug Kenney and National Lampoon Changed Comedy Forever by Josh Karp. I considered hitting the crosstrainer thingy next like the old days, not to mention I'm really enjoying the book but I was pretty well exhausted (in that euphoric, energetic way), and Marta was surely awake by now. While I was treadmilling, I got an email from Unthank Books in England, informing me that they've accepted "The Last Dog and Pony Show" into their upcoming anthology. That's always good news. | ||
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Wednesday, 16 June 2010 (scritches on the head as we chew) 8:41am Well, that was brutal. I was at the gym by five as is more or less usual, did my ten of ten crunches, then ran on the treadmill for half an hour. (Ran? Walked? Jogged? Whichever one of those you do at four miles an hour.) Then to Damiel's abs class, where he seemed very glad to see me, not just because I was back to being a regular in his class or because we had an appointment for afterward, but because he was putting together a Father's Day mix and needed some suggestions. So I played him Sinead O'Connor's "Daddy I'm Fine," which he loved. He was very serious about it all—apparently I'm one of the few regulars at the YMCA who has a pop-culture knowledge as vast as his, and more importantly, can quickly cross-reference. Hey, whatever keeps me on my trainer's good side. Not that he's exactly my trainer in the Raphaela sense (she still hasn't replied to emails or texts, which means I may need to call, ugh), since we don't meet regularly so he can guide me through the workout, but it's as close as I'm going to get at the Y. The appointment was so he could show me again the new weight stuff from last time, since it takes at least two times for me to really get the form down. I also had him write notes on my sheet—bend knees or legs out—because otherwise, my brain just won't retain the knowledge, not being about music or movies. He also described me as "an easy mark," for him, because he knows that in spite of my absence earlier this year, I'm really quite serious about getting in shape and will do the work necessary to make it happen. Which I am, and will. Damn if I didn't get a thorough ass-kicking this morning as I'd suspected I might, but of course, that's the only way it works. It's my birthday present to myself. Marta's coming over in a while, and aside from going to Japantown for dinner tonight, we don't have any specific plans. Which is fine. Just being with her is good enough. 8:32pm Birthday Hiyashi at Osakaya! I've been craving this for a while. | ||
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Tuesday, 15 June 2010 (strong credentials) 7:30pm Up at four this morning, at the gym by five for crunches (ten sets of ten) and weights before Cally's spin class. I've readjusted my work schedule so I leave at two on Tuesdays rather than four to allow for a more conveniently timed afternoon gym trip, like I used to do. On the way home from work, I stopped at the Richmond library to get a stack of books, the first time I've done that in a while. That's my second favorite benefit of regular exercise: finally getting to read. Did another ten of ten of crunches, fifty minutes on the treadmill, and then back home. Wash, rinse, repeat. I wore one of my existing pairs of pants today for the first time in forever. They're still much bigger than I'd like—18W, ick—but I haven't fit into them in a very long time, so it means what I'm doing is working. So I'll keep doing it. | ||
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Monday, 14 June 2010 (conscious of the fact) 9:12am I decided not to go to the gym this morning, since it would have been on about three hours of sleep. So I'll go this afternoon. 11:31pm Which I did, an hour on the treadmill. And before that, I did crunches. After having perused old diary entries about my old workout regimens—and, of course, viewing the photographic evidence—I'm going to try to base my daily exercise around my old habits as best as I can. Which means, of course, plenty of crunches. I used to do anywhere from a hundred to two hundred per day. Which, once your stomach gets used to it, isn't as bad as it sounds. And it's what it takes, it's what's worked before, so it's what I'll do now. After the gym, I went back home, had dinner, then went to Pete and Sarah's for the season finale of Breaking Bad. I love that show so much. | ||
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Sunday, 13 June 2010 (alternating with the sighs) sometime after midnight Marta remained at The Black Light district when I went to the gym this morning for Figurski's class, though when I returned we continued with the massive deep-housecleaning project, leaving around four to head to The Dark Room to get things ready for Rhiannon and Sherilyn's Star Wars Trilogy Birthday Sleepover, our (third) annual birthday triple feature Bad Movie Night. It was a lot of fun, but by the time we got to Return of the Jedi we'd lost our paying audience, Marta had left, and both Rhiannon and I decided to cut it short. No great loss, and it means I may actually get to the gym tomorrow morning. | ||
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Saturday, 12 June 2010 (international operations) 12:33pm Up at six, at the gym by seven—there was a big crowd outside, since the opening employees were running lately—and gone again by nine, after some weighting and an hour of running. I'm going back this afternoon for more running. As always, it helps that I'm engrossed in a book, specifically And Here's the Kicker: Conversations with 21 Top Humor Writers on their Craft by Michael Sacks, which I leapt into right after I finished Leaving Dirty Jersey: A Crystal Meth Memoir. And then I won't be back until Tuesday, unless Marta wants to go to Figurski's class with me tomorrow morning. My body's very much in more more more mode right now. | ||
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Friday, 11 June 2010 (explaining it thusly) 1:52pm Up at four this morning, on the treadmill by a quarter past five, and then Damiel's abs class at six. Afterward, I made an appointment with him for this Wednesday so we can go over the new weights routine he show me last time, because even though he wrote it all down I still don't remember how to do most of it. This Wednesday is my birthday, but that's okay, since I already took the day off from work, and going to the gym and getting my ass kicked sounds just fine to me. Picked up my hormones from the Pharmacy today. Remarkably, there was no line at all, and the entire process took about fifteen minutes. So that's good, and I'm glad to not have to worry about it again until September. Which is the great irony of this all: my doctor has kindly been giving me three-month prescriptions, meaning I only have to go the Pharmacy every three months rather than every month, but I'll be damned if the hassles don't pile up while I'm gone. Ilene invited me out tonight, and as tempting as it is, I'm passing. The fact is that I'm not feeling comfortable enough with my body yet, especially not for the people who are likely to be at the event in question. But eventually I will be. I know it, because it's happened before. 9:08pm I wish I could go to the gym right now. I already went twice this day—this morning, and then an hour on the treadmill this afternoon—and I know that's plenty, not to mention the fact that it would be closing shortly after I arrived anyway. I also wish it opened at the five on Saturday mornings rather than seven, but I can't blame them for wanting to get a little sleep on the weekend. So I'll be there at seven rather than five. All I want to do right now is just burn away as much of the excess body mass as I can, and never let it come back. The absolute last thing I need to do right now is take on more debt—my credit card and auto loan are plenty, thanks—but I still often fantasize about getting an abdominoplasty, to eliminate that excess, stretched and torn skin which will never go away no matter how much I run. It's an albatross, a reminder of abuse and misbehavior from years before, and I'm so fucking tired of it. I think all my recent rejections and snubs and times I've been ignored or treated as irrelevant or invisible are kinda ganging up on me right now. | ||
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