girls have pecs, too
July 11. 2000
Yesterday at work a bizarre thought occurred to me. A little voice in my head, the one that was responsible for my once quasi-buffitude, poked its head out from the rubbish I had piled on top of it and asked me, "Why don't you go the YMCA today after work?"
A thousand other voices screamed back in unison, giving a thousand different excuses why this will not and must not happen. I am tired after work. I have too much stuff to do. My achilles tendon is still bothering me. I don't need to. Do you have any idea how hard it is going to be to start all over again after almost a year of neglect?!?!?
And I bet you thought your head was chaotic.
But, as I thought about it, it really made sense. I could drive directly from work to the Y in about twenty minutes, I could work out a good hour and fifteen or so, and be home by 5:30. The clothes I dress in for work are pretty much workout gear (t-shirt, some breed of sweatpants, and sneakers), so I was already dressed. And by 4 o'clock every day I was sweaty and disgusting to begin with, so why not make it a little worse?
Starting over as I am really sucks. I'd forgotten how hard it is to get back on the horse, as it were. Yesterday I did some time on a stationary bike, then lifted weights. I was surprised that the number of plates I was doing had not gone down all that much. However, by last night I was paying for the shock of lifting: my deltoids and pecs were, and still are, incredibly sore. Today it was 45 minutes of cardio (I lift usually every other day), and I was huffing and puffing and looking like a fat ball of sweat. I remember a time where I could do an hour straight without even blinking.
I am hoping to attain some degree of my former buffitude. I was looking at my weight lifting chart, looking back to the good ol' days in 1998 and 1999 where I worked out without fail at least 5 times a week. If gym life continues to agree with me, I was considering getting a membership at a gym near where I'm going to live in Philly, pending the cost and such. But I really, really want to be healthy. I don't take care of myself now, and although one's body can bounce back from that at 19, I doubt the same thing will happen ten years from now.
About two hours later:
I just went and picked up Lauren and had some major lightheadedness, even after I ate something (McDonalds, I know it was bad). Mayhap I am taking this too fast?
I need to lay down.
all writings, (c) 1999-2000, BRR