Last week I was in a somewhat weird and tense mood. I just felt a bit off, and I didn't know why, which just made me even more off-kilter.
But then I went to the gym on Saturday and beat the shit out of myself for hours, and I felt a million times better.
So I realized that I hadn't been to the gym much for the past couple of weeks. I've been writing like a motherfucker, doing some major catch-up, and we also had some clients in town. For a while, I was getting to the gym almost daily. Suddenly, I was squeezing it in one or twice a week.
Then I hit the gym for another epic workout yesterday, and came out of that feeling like a million bucks. Which brought me to the conclusion that the gym was the x-factor... If I go, I feel good. If I don't go, I feel bad.
Shit.
I wanted to engage in a healthier life-style, and now I'm just a monkey punching a button. Which I guess means I'm doomed, but in a good way... There are worse things for me upon which I can depend for elevated brain chemistry, like booze or heroin or something.
But still...
In BURN AFTER READING, George Clooney's character starts losing his shit because he's been so busy he hasn't had a chance to get in a run. Now I understand why.
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I also find this to be true. I DESPISE running, but I have run regularly since I turned twenty-six. I even think I might have some minor shin splints from running with bad shoes for a long time, but I can't bear the thought of stopping.
Again, I fucking hate it. But if I stop doing it, I feel HORRIBLE. This is one problem with the winters here--no running from November until late February. So in those days I work out at home more. Denser muscle in arms, chest, stomach, but not as much cardio.
Yeah, I'm going to AZ for the whole week and, for the first time, I think I'm gonna have to find a way to stay active instead of just sitting on my ass.
Doomed, I tell you!
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