Earlier today, thousands of miles from the Command Center, a baby was born who is doomed to live his life through the lens of TMZ. Sure, one day he’ll be King of England, but that’s a long ways off. Hell, the kid doesn’t even have a name yet and he’s already choking up the tabloids.
My suggestion of “Ringo Morrissey Lydon Iommi” will likely be ignored.
Image credit: Leo Reynolds
This means I actually have something in common with the mainstream media today: neither one of us have any real news.
My experience is Sunday is the hardest day to write. It has nothing to do with religion. It has everything to do with an utter lack of stimulus. So today I’m out and about. While I love my Chromebook, its battery life leaves something to be desired. But hey, no pressure!
This is supposed to be a funny blog. It’s also supposed to be a blog about what’s on my mind at the moment. Most of the time I can reconcile the two fairly easily. Not today.
For me, Memorial Day is a source of depression going back decades. This has nothing to do with military service, and I certainly don’t mean to belittle the holiday’s meaning by dwelling on myself. Still, personal history weighs heavy on my mind.
And as with any other artistic endeavor, trying too hard at humor often leads to disaster.
Image credit: ponyboy-draws
There’s nothing quite like receiving a nasty surprise at the doctor’s office.
One of the nasty side effects of depression is weight gain. Since you don’t want to do anything, you don’t do anything. Since not doing anything means not getting exercise … well, you get the idea. Continue reading →
Until I was 23 or so I had amazing metabolism. I could eat what I wanted. I had great endurance. Most of all, I was never anywhere near fat. As my 20s wore on that tapered off a bit, but I still wasn’t bad.
Then came a horrific bout of depression which has only recently let up. As a result I’m pushing 270 pounds. For the international audience that’s about 123 kg or, um … close to 20 stone. Although I’m tall, this sort of weight is really beginning to look bad on me.
“I’m Albrecht from Düsseldorf, und I lost 3 stone mit Hydroxycut!”
A few months ago a $10/month gym opened not far from the Command Center. I signed up and started going in. I can just barely make it five minutes on the elliptical, which is particularly embarrassing given that I used to be a cross-country runner. I did better on the weights, but not much. Still, there was reason to be hopeful. I would get to the point where I could run a 5K again, dammit.
Although I’m not spiritual in any sense, I’m beginning to believe forces are conspiring against me to keep me out of the gym. I’ve never endured a series of illnesses and injuries like this in my life.
Not long after I joined the gym I broke my ankle. I thought it was a sprain for three days. I was mistaken.
It’s not a sprain, y’all.
As one can imagine, that knocked me out of action. Fortunately it wasn’t a serious break, so after a few weeks it was healed to the point where I could start working out again. Huzzah!
Then I got shingles of all things. Well, mother of crap. I’m way too young for that.
Shingles feels like a sunburn that won’t go away. Naturally, I got it on my face which is about the worst possible place to get it. Being somewhat contagious and all, I felt I should stay home out of common courtesy, so I did. There were no lasting ill effects, but there was another couple weeks down the drain.
Then came my annual bout of colds. While it appears I missed the flu this year, hitting the elliptical when hacking up a lung is probably not a good idea. Call that laziness if you must, but I decided to err on the side of caution. There’s another delay.
So this past weekend I was finally getting over my cold, my ankle was feeling fine and the shingles were long gone. I was psyched; it was finally time to go out and make something of myself!
Well, maybe not THAT psyched.
Image credit: Angela George
Then earlier this week I fell, knocked myself unconscious and possibly bruised my ribs. I was out for the count for at least an hour, so I don’t remember a lot of details.
That earned me a trip to the ER. You may have noticed there was no Superfluous Bloviations post on 19 February. Well, that’s why. It’s a good thing this week’s History Wednesday was already written, or I would have missed that too. I guess I’m out of action for ANOTHER few weeks. Le sigh.
My head wound looks a lot like Venezuela.
So as I sit here with my forehead crusted over and my right side in pain, I wonder what’s next? Well, circumstances can’t keep me from the 30 minute workout forever. I just hope I don’t lose a limb in the process.