Wednesday, February 22, 2012

Baby Steps

I just rode one of these things for thirty minutes, burning a total of 355 calories and biking nearly 10 miles.

Come the finish, my body rebelled against me in a million little ways: cramps knotting my stomach and thighs, every breath a blast of fire, that stupid pounding headache you get when you're stupid and don't drink enough stupid freaking water. I didn't exit the bike so much as melt from it, like the world's most pitiful receding glacier. I spent four minutes just panting on my apartment floor.

Of course, thirty minutes is nothing. 355 calories is nothing. 10 miles on a bike is nothing compared to 10 miles on foot. I can't hope to undo the damage of a full-sized grilled pork banh mi with one session, can I?

But you know what? Screw that noise. Last time I biked I could only do 25 minutes. The three times before that? 20. The first month I was lucky to break 10.

Maybe it's because I'm an actor and actors are powered by a combination of ego and self-loathing, but I find it so easy to write off any good thing I do: it's only good, not great. It's just okay, not amazing. Yeah I can make 30 minutes on my stupid little bike but there's dudes out there winning marathons barefoot. Yeah I wrote some cool little ficlets but I've never written a masterpiece. I'll never accomplish anything of note so why am I even bothering to try, a bloo bloo bloo.

Screw that noise. And screw the guilt that invariably manifests when I set myself for failure or fail to even try, because guilt is useless and lord knows I already have enough of it.

I like this blog. I'mma keep posting it until I nail the three-entries-a-week thing down. I hate working out, but I like the way I feel afterwards, so I'mma work out as much as possible even if they're wimpy little workouts.

Anybody catches me nursing self-pity, gimme a verbal bitchslap. I got one recently and it did wonders.

What a picturesque location! With a cool dome behind it. What exactly is the story with these--stables? Are they stables? Wait, I think it's actually the rear of that dome-y building. Make a back patio. Hmm. What's the building, then? Mosque? China Epcot? [Insert Joke About The Dome Looking Like A Boob Here]?

Ah well, I'm sure the caption on the opposite side will clear this right up.

...thanks, China.

I really dig the determined look on this woman's face. She's short-staffed and, ugh, it's all foreigners with their weirdo language, but by god, she's going to make sure they know to dip their fried things into the tea.

And there's a cat! Cat in a tree! Cat in a tree above the table! Now, Jess, did someone point it out to you and then steal a bunch of your food off your plate? Yeah. That's right. I haven't forgotten.

don't fear failure

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