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Still fucking sore. The "Hip Abductor", easy enough to do, has taken it's toll. As has everything else. Which only makes me all the more annoying at work: "Feel my Bicep! IT'S HUGE...soooo hard!!! It's LIKE A TUMOR ON MY ARM! I'M GOING TO HAVE TO SEE A DOCTOR AND MAKE SURE IT'S NOT CANCER!!!!". This, is of course, only one of the many muscles I've as of late rediscovered, overextended and strained.
But there's only so many places I can get people to touch.
My reward, I've decided, is that if I can make it another 7 times, use up my punch pass before it expires, I'm going to become a "Life Coach" and bring my own brand of supercililous annoying to the masses. Broadcasting my "Best Life" photos of me photoshopped or AI'd into God's Body on a beach in Mexico and all that.
Facebook. I'm going to start using my Facebook Account. And set up a better Instagram devoted to pictures of me.
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Parking, in and around Ainsworth, listening to Kootenay Co-op radio and life is good. Eclectic. I've missed this. Comfy, the music varies, but when it hits it hits. Soundscapes, the sound of rain on the CRV roof, comfily splayed across the passenger and drivers seat, avoiding the phone (I've exceeded my monthly limit already, not good, don't touch it until I'm within range of free wifi...), need to get batteries for my flashlight and I'll be set...
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To the gym, with my new Gym bag, trying out all the medieval instruments of torture, discover another, how to use? Surreptitiously peek or spy on someone, figure it out, wait my turn, wear myself out on it and find another. Rinse, repeat. High school girls occupying machines to take selfies of themselves or do a set and then endlessly scroll through their Instagram photos, they wind me up, I'm on a mission, hurry up...!!!
I recognize a couple, petite fit Kootenay girl, spotting for her immensely muscular boyfriend (s??), she smiles & says "hi", I know them, but from where? Certainly not here. Probably the restaurant, or perhaps a rave. It's embarrassing this, these gym bunnies benching more than I'll be able to do in a year, not that that's my ambition but I am inherently a sexist, and I'm not living up to my prejudices...
A sane person might consider it time to revise their prejudices, but no one's ever accused me of being Sane.
Another girl practicing her Pelvic Thrusts with a 200lb Barbell on her lap, bloody hell, is she dating King Kong?
I fucking hate the gym, but as I seem to be a sucker for punishment...what with the Vodka and smoking, I'll see how long I can stand it...this, at least might have an "UP' side, so I keep it up...
Pumping Iron, until your only thought is to escape the gym, your every limb trembles and burns, and even the bars on the doors are too tough to push open, and it occurs to me to make a Gym themed Escape Room, the whole purpose to escape it, overcome obstacles tailor made to increase your fitness, move this weight and this and then get to the door, pull, push...it could be done, easy.
When my hour is done, torture completed, I was hurting from Tuesday and I'm hurting even more today, this didn't help at all, then down to the Steam Room and Sauna where I can feel the Vodka and Nicotine evaporating through my pores. Small reward for a lot of pain.
The Gym, it's curbing my enthusiasm for drinking and cigarettes, my sole vices, it's true, you need only a single good habit to begin dismantling a hundred bad ones. The subconscious mind does not hold contrary views, in opposition to the conscious mind which can comfortably hold a hundred.
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Today I'm a bit of a wreck. Tuesday's excursion to the gym, and my insistence on trying every one of the medieval physical torture devices is being felt in every limb. Why today and not Wednesday? Anyways, at some point this evening, still burning, I'm due to go down and do it all over again.
I have a gym-bag, I have to.
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I see these signs everywhere. And - I don't devalue the treatments, but - a lot of people equivocate this with science and medicine. Which - unfortunately, it largely isn't. "Wellness" is a vague term which is only but partially addressed in this.
Still, they make me laugh.
Subcategories
Dating
OK. I've been on a few internet dates. I confess this with the same reluctance I would admitting to masturbating, adultery, or excessive drinking and drug use.
This is a list of some of my best -- AND WORST -- dates ever. Note that you gotta go on a lotta dates to get this kinda list, this kinda discouraged. And my online dating thing has been sporadic - an every few years kind of thing at best. Some of these dates go back 10 years, others are a little more recent. And to answer any people who might argue "It beats hooking up at the bar", well, you don't have to hook up at the bar, and at the bar you can see what your getting...
Anyways - apologies to the countless normal, decent dates that I went on but just didn't hit it off with. Memory is selective, it tends towards the extreme, and in this you will find the extremes...
Dear Osama
In which I write everyone's favorite advice columnist.
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