Goodbye long-ass update.
Life seems to have picked-up speed as of late. Nothing frantic or out-of-hand, far from it. Just the same, things seem to be moving along at a pretty good clip. Fine by me. I feel like I've spent too much time either wallowing in my own existential ennui or white-knuckled and screaming just trying to hold on. Living somewhere in the in-between feels just about right. I may not conquer the world every single day, but the principalities are starting to feel the heat.
Had another round of private instruction in yoga last week. Such wonderful stuff. Looks like it's here to stay. Kisses, babe. I've only been practicing for about three months, but it's during that time that the up-in-the-air things have begun to fall into place. I'm somewhat hesitant to draw a direct parallel between the two, but I can't rule it out, either.
And now, a moment of shameless, vain, statistical boasting.
For the first time since I was 14, I'm wearing size 36 jeans. 14 years - that's half a lifetime, kids. Yes, I'm proud. I try not to get up on the old soap box too often, but I've earned this one. 4 years ago, I weighed 315 pounds. That's a lot. I'm a thick guy and proud of it. Always have been, always will be. That aside, for reasons of both vanity and health, I had to learn to take better care of myself.
Did I try all the supplements?
Yes.
Did I try all the weight-loss pills?
Yes.
Did anything work?
Yes. After 2 years, I stopped fucking around. No pills. No supplements. No miracle products. I started paying attention to what I was eating and working my ass off.
Then - 6 feet tall. 315lbs. 56" chest, 44" waist.
Now - 6 feet tall. 235 lbs. 54" chest, 36" waist.
^^^^ Does any of that matter?
Pride isn't a number.
********
Today is one of the windiest days I can recall, and I spent a good part of the afternoon watching my neighbor, who obsesses badly about his lawn, raking leaves. All afternoon. In the wind. Then in some more wind. Once, I saw this guy climb a ladder, in an electrical storm, with a chainsaw (yup), to remove a small branch dangling from a tree in his front yard. Part of me respects his dedication, but that's probably the same part of me that started shoveling mid-blizzard when the airports were closing and sex was on the line.
Got some holes stretched with steel last night. Good times. I may like the stretching better than the piercing. I have the third sitting for my backpiece scheduled this Friday. Photos to follow.
This week, I get to see two of my absolute favorites. Mose Allison is in town from the 15th to the 20th. I'll probably see him on Wednesday. then The Detroit Cobras are playing the Double Door on Saturday. Bitchin' shit with visions of a shimmy shakedown dancin in my head.
I've heard that sweet voice in my ear again lately. Welcome back. You were sorely missed.
C'mon PeggySue, Monaco's feeling the heat. Soon, Monte Carlo will be ours!!!
And now.......
a 1951 Cadillac Series 62.
Life seems to have picked-up speed as of late. Nothing frantic or out-of-hand, far from it. Just the same, things seem to be moving along at a pretty good clip. Fine by me. I feel like I've spent too much time either wallowing in my own existential ennui or white-knuckled and screaming just trying to hold on. Living somewhere in the in-between feels just about right. I may not conquer the world every single day, but the principalities are starting to feel the heat.
Had another round of private instruction in yoga last week. Such wonderful stuff. Looks like it's here to stay. Kisses, babe. I've only been practicing for about three months, but it's during that time that the up-in-the-air things have begun to fall into place. I'm somewhat hesitant to draw a direct parallel between the two, but I can't rule it out, either.
And now, a moment of shameless, vain, statistical boasting.
For the first time since I was 14, I'm wearing size 36 jeans. 14 years - that's half a lifetime, kids. Yes, I'm proud. I try not to get up on the old soap box too often, but I've earned this one. 4 years ago, I weighed 315 pounds. That's a lot. I'm a thick guy and proud of it. Always have been, always will be. That aside, for reasons of both vanity and health, I had to learn to take better care of myself.
Did I try all the supplements?
Yes.
Did I try all the weight-loss pills?
Yes.
Did anything work?
Yes. After 2 years, I stopped fucking around. No pills. No supplements. No miracle products. I started paying attention to what I was eating and working my ass off.
Then - 6 feet tall. 315lbs. 56" chest, 44" waist.
Now - 6 feet tall. 235 lbs. 54" chest, 36" waist.
^^^^ Does any of that matter?
Pride isn't a number.
********
Today is one of the windiest days I can recall, and I spent a good part of the afternoon watching my neighbor, who obsesses badly about his lawn, raking leaves. All afternoon. In the wind. Then in some more wind. Once, I saw this guy climb a ladder, in an electrical storm, with a chainsaw (yup), to remove a small branch dangling from a tree in his front yard. Part of me respects his dedication, but that's probably the same part of me that started shoveling mid-blizzard when the airports were closing and sex was on the line.
Got some holes stretched with steel last night. Good times. I may like the stretching better than the piercing. I have the third sitting for my backpiece scheduled this Friday. Photos to follow.
This week, I get to see two of my absolute favorites. Mose Allison is in town from the 15th to the 20th. I'll probably see him on Wednesday. then The Detroit Cobras are playing the Double Door on Saturday. Bitchin' shit with visions of a shimmy shakedown dancin in my head.
I've heard that sweet voice in my ear again lately. Welcome back. You were sorely missed.
C'mon PeggySue, Monaco's feeling the heat. Soon, Monte Carlo will be ours!!!
And now.......
a 1951 Cadillac Series 62.
VIEW 3 of 3 COMMENTS
during that time that the up-in-the-air things have begun to fall into place. I'm somewhat hesitant to draw a direct parallel between the two, but I can't rule it out, either.
Dude, most people don't get it-- changing the inner world changes the outer as well; but trying to directly change the outer is an exercise in futility. It seems to only work inside-out. But boy does it work.
When I did yoga for a brief period, it was in that time that I managed to gain escape velocity and get the fuck out of Southern California for NorCal. And therefore, for a better life.
In a better part of the world.
</hater>
Did anything work?
Yes. After 2 years, I stopped fucking around. No pills. No supplements. No miracle products. I started paying attention to what I was eating and working my ass off.
Dayum. I just wrote a mini-treatise on that exact topic. Gradually (and sustainably) decrease caloric intake, decrease overall percentage of empty calories, increase caloric expenditure, and create calorically expensive muscle. Bam.
My formula goes: Increase caloric intake, do high-intensity, short-time frame (under 45 mins, usually under 15 mins) work. I put on 5 lbs the past two weeks.
Then - 6 feet tall. 315lbs. 56" chest, 44" waist.
Now - 6 feet tall. 235 lbs. 54" chest, 36" waist.
Like woah. 6 and 235 is pretty solid, given your build. Do you feel strong? Springy, like you could dunk if you wanted to? Yoga makes you reeeeealy strong in funky, functional ways.
^^^^ Does any of that matter?
Fuck yes it matters. It's another external representation on an internal state. It's a healthier, stronger, happier individual walking planet Earth.
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Thanks so much for the present-- you provoked a solid 15 minute laughing and giggling spree, at the end of which you got the phone call. Best. Present. Evar. (Even better than the website.