One thing I forgot to mention in yesterday's entry was this revelation from my visit to the doctor: I have broken the 200 pound barrier, and put on more than 10 of them since September. This is hardly shocking for a number of reasons. One of them is the "You Only Live Once" factor that has crept into many people's lives since September 11th. It's hard to deny yourself a plate of KFC when your mail could kill you.
It also doesn't help that it's winter. I was probably at my healthiest right around September (excluding all the weird psychotic leftovers from my job), thanks to a running regimen and the occasional biking trip around the city. And thanks to a wrong-headed conviction that there was something seriously wrong with my circulatory system, I was almost obsessive about exercise and eating, though moreso about the exercise. I always figured I could justify the poor eating if I exercised like a bastard on fire.
Given that this was a mild winter, I did get out and run here and there, and even when I haven't run for quite some time, I can still manage a two-mile trot without having to collapse and wait for the police to scrape me up. So I can't be in that bad of shape, can I?
Damn.
Besides the obvious problems tied to getting fatter, I actually think I could stand to gain some weight, if only so I resemble a gawky middle schooler a little less. The real difficulty is getting the weight to distribute correctly. Lately I look less like an underwear model than a plumber. When I catch a peripheral glimpse of myself in the bathroom mirror, I could almost mistake myself for my father. Scary thought. The old man's pushing 70...
Still, I'm told that weather is milder in my destination city of Portland, OR, not to mention their abundance of hills and public transportation, making a car almost unnecessary. So I should get plenty of walking, running and biking in, if I'm lucky.
And if I'm really lucky, I won't live anywhere near a Wendy's.
It also doesn't help that it's winter. I was probably at my healthiest right around September (excluding all the weird psychotic leftovers from my job), thanks to a running regimen and the occasional biking trip around the city. And thanks to a wrong-headed conviction that there was something seriously wrong with my circulatory system, I was almost obsessive about exercise and eating, though moreso about the exercise. I always figured I could justify the poor eating if I exercised like a bastard on fire.
Given that this was a mild winter, I did get out and run here and there, and even when I haven't run for quite some time, I can still manage a two-mile trot without having to collapse and wait for the police to scrape me up. So I can't be in that bad of shape, can I?
Damn.
Besides the obvious problems tied to getting fatter, I actually think I could stand to gain some weight, if only so I resemble a gawky middle schooler a little less. The real difficulty is getting the weight to distribute correctly. Lately I look less like an underwear model than a plumber. When I catch a peripheral glimpse of myself in the bathroom mirror, I could almost mistake myself for my father. Scary thought. The old man's pushing 70...
Still, I'm told that weather is milder in my destination city of Portland, OR, not to mention their abundance of hills and public transportation, making a car almost unnecessary. So I should get plenty of walking, running and biking in, if I'm lucky.
And if I'm really lucky, I won't live anywhere near a Wendy's.
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