blueswede
The Nine Faces of Dave
lose 40 pounds and you'll feel better fast
So the end of summer's drawing near, and I guess it's about
time to review the situation as it stands.
For starters, after I finished running today, I had finally
hit my weight goal for the summer. That's right; 40 pounds
in about 15 weeks. Needless to say I'm rather pleased with
myself, possibly as much for proving the naysayers wrong as
for achieving my goal.
In addition, I ran in my first race ever, and came in 108th
out of 153. Not too bad I'd say, considering I only started
running in June. Four miles in about 37:30; guess I'm doing
all right with running.
On a more personal level, I'm finally pretty much over that
girl I was so hung up on last spring. I'm through feeling
bad about the decline of our friendship/relationship; thanks
to some new information, I can conclude that none of it was
my fault. And that makes me feel pretty damn good.
And in other news, I saw the Mystery Science Theater version
of the worst movie ever made, "Manos, the Hands of Fate." I
honestly didn't think it was possible for a movie to be that
painfully bad, so awful that it made even MST3K hard to sit
through, but this one did it. Well done, gentlemen.
So now I'm getting ready to go back to college, which means
I get to deal with my mother's hysteria and my own laziness,
neither of which do much to alleviate the other. I think I
have my act together this time around, though, which should
make life easier.
I'm not sure if I'm really looking forward to the return. I
mean, it'll be good to see people again, and see where I get
socially with my improved self, but it also means having to
do work again. I guess I'm pretty fortunate; unlike so many
other people I know, my parents aren't authoritarian rulers
bent on driving me batshit insane. So I'm not in too big a
hurry to abandon free room and board and use of the car.
But I'll make whatever adjustments I need to make, just like
last year. I didn't do shit that summer either, so I don't
think there will be too much transition shock. Still, I am
going to miss the time I've had to sit on my ass.
The biggest change is that for the first time I can remember
since third grade, I'm feeling happy. It's weird, because
my personal life hasn't changed that much. So maybe this is
all some weird physiological thing tied in to my improvement
in physical condition.
Whatever the case, it's a great feeling. It has to beat the
hell out of anti-depressants and that kind of crap, because
this is 100% natural. I still recognize the pitfalls in my
life: I'm still kind of fat, and I don't have a girlfriend,
and every time I meet some honestly nice girl she's taken by
somebody who may or may not be a complete piece of shit, or
ends up being a real twit.
I recognize all these things as being very real, but I don't
care. It's almost as if the voices of self-loathing and of
self-doubt have been silenced by a big voice that just wants
to lift weights and run. I don't even care that much about
finding a girlfriend, though it would be nice.
Now I just have to hope I don't begin to value weightlifting
over human company.
This is Dave, signing off.