Throughout these over 900 essays, if there’s anything I’ve learned about myself, it’s that I have the most energy in the morning then it fades off from there. Morning’s dew is indifferent to evening’s stew of failures and shortcomings throughout the previous day. My dreams abstractly tell me what’s wrong and vaguely points out how I can fix these benign problems. My evening routine: prepare my coffee, lunch, hydrate, soak in the tub, then go sleep.
I am two pounds away from weighing my lightest in ten years. Counting my calories, with clear implications that the more I snack the further I’ll travel away from my goals, has especially helped me burn off that weight. Does that weight loss necessarily correlate with my long-term fitness goals? Let’s return to 873 days ago. That’s when I first considered why I wanted to write about health and fitness: so I can better enjoy life.
“Likely anything that is quiet and not going to have a lot of downward vibration should be fine.” It’s been 52 days since I last rowed. My rower is a great piece of machinery, it’s just too loud. My community gym is a good option, it’s just in a location that’s not convenient for going there then going somewhere else. An ideal option would be somewhere I can row at 4AM and 8PM without vibrating concerns.
I’ve made many friends throughout my life, and lost seemingly many more. Making friends is easy. The way I’ve found most effective is to approach someone with a compliment over something that they have added to themselves; a compliment on a shirt. Other times, making jokes will do, and other times, still, just by association. How about splintering friendships? Growing up, they were always aggressive psychological assaults. Until recently, they faded due to proxemically-inconvenient inevitabilities.
Even while watching a movie, it’s always there. The noise of self-doubt echoes louder than most lines in movies, the self-loathing permeates into every conversation, and what self-assurance is mucked by an overwhelming sense of artificiality. Neon colors can’t cover it. There are moments when I can get distracted from the past or future and focus on something nice, but otherwise, it’s a constant that I cannot escape from. Let’s explore that darkness at length.
Lifting each of these 10- to 15-pound boxes up today reminded me of when it used to be easier to move boxes. My muscles have atrophied. Just slightly, but enough to notice. My bones crack more. I feel lazier. Now that my job has stabilized, I’ll soon to be ready to get back into rowing, whether it’s at the company gym, the community gym, or acquiring a new, quiet home rower. I’m getting the rowing itch.
Now that I’m tracking my calories, I can add objective data points to my subjective observations surrounding my comprehensive health. On days with limited stress, I am not that hungry. My hunger pangs are more of a reaction to stress than any malnourishment. Looking over my calorie charts, the spikes correlate to stressful days where I was “hungrier.” This should help me assess my anxiety levels quicker to properly lubricate and clean my mind’s gears.