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archernu

Iowa City

Member Since 2004

Followers 21 Following 11

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Thursday May 12, 2005

May 12, 2005
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After a four month hiatus from fitness, I have have begun working out again. Weights do most people wonders, but I hate gyms. (I also can't lift much weight--which might have something to do with my aversion to round, metal plates.) So in lieu of said lifting, I re-discovered the greatest strength training tool ever, well, discovered: gravity. O I hate push-ups and sit-ups and dips and the like, but they do their job extremely well. As for cardio, you can blame POEE for his insistence; I'm rowing 10k each workout. Not fun.

Before I started this week, though, I asked myself what I feel is the most important question surrounding fitness: Why am I doing this? Let's be real, working out is tiring and/or painful. One can sing the song of masochism all one likes; still, at the end of the day, one is devoting their time to the destruction of their body for unpromised, indefinite, and forthcoming gain.

I originally stopped going to the gym because, like most things my mind locks onto, the process consumed me. I went to the gym once or twice a day, five or six days a week, and for that was miserable. Now, I'm working into it. Last week I only went once. This week I'll probably only go twice. But when I'm there, I work hard in order to feel better in general--less lethargic, stronger, less tense. I've given-up on body image as dictated by Maxim, Men's Health, and the campus dive-bar.

Will it last? I've no idea. The service is free; just wish me will.

anger_frog:
Is this song "The Masochism Tango?" I love that.
May 12, 2005
velocity:
I just found it in the towel drawer. I seriously don't remember putting it there, and I don't even want to know what circuitous path my brain took to make that location seem logical.
May 12, 2005

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