Thursday, August 31, 2006

Mo' bettah blues

Here's a picture of my abs. Not bad after just one week.

Some rubes might think I'm gay for posting a picture of some other dude's gut. Oh, and I'm the last born of four boys, which means my mother's body fought off my maleness with female hormones, according to an article in that bastion of medical journalism, Time Magazine.

So THAT'S why I'm an English grad student.

I'm not gay, but at least I'm in touch with my feelings more than most men and my dago machismo is tempered by a poetic sensibility.

My workout plan has gone well this week. On Monday I ran 4.5 miles in a light rainstorm. I felt really good, fantastic even, considering it was my first run in over a month. Wednesday's run upon first awakening was more difficult because I took benadryl the night before and was a little dry-mouthed and sluggo-headed the entire run. Still, riding out the course with my bike later, I ran almost 7 miles in an hour.

And today I worked out at the rec center for the first time. Guh. I hate lifting weights. It's SOOO boring. What can I do to liven it up? I put myself through an extreme ab workout that still has me sore this evening. One good thing about me is I never have a problem pushing myself physically. I tend to work myself to the limits of my endurance and live for that blessed fatigue that comes only after extreme exertion, that panting, heaving, lay on the floor in a totally exhausted state of bliss that no drug can duplicate.

Good news is I've already exceeded my weight goal.

I've always wanted to be like my idol, Brett Favre, 6' 2", 200 pounds, the All-American boy. Height's not a problem.

But at my heaviest, back in early 2000, I weighed almost 240 pounds. When I got off the Pacific Crest Trail in Sept. 2004, I was 183. A month ago I weighed 208. Today: 198. Last weekend on my parent's scale: 200.

I did not diet, necessarily, in the past month, but was merely conscientous of how much I ate. I try not to eat to fullness, but until I'm no longer hungry. We are biologically hard-wired to gorge when food is present. This instinct betrays us when we have an overabundance of food.

I'm lucky. It takes little effort for me to take off the pounds. No calorie counting. No carb diet. No shakes or soup diets. No dramatic changes. Just plain old awareness and exercise. And I love exercise.

My goal is to post a picture of my actual gut by the middle of October with six pack abs. If I can work through the boredom of working out, it will happen.

Then I'll shave my chest, flex my rippling muscles and call out the rest of you late-born sons for the girly men you are.

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