MOTIVATE
I got home last night on the edge of the habitual coma. I felt heavy, tired, slightly pained. The pain is more psychological than physical, but its dull persistent intensity bleeds out from my psyche and into my upper back, my neck and my eyelids. The pain comes from all the swirling toughts of responsibilities and chores that I havent taken care of. It comes from FUCK THIS SHIT fighting against TIME TO GET WITH THE PROGRAM. I am such an extremist. Where is the middle ground?
Above all, I really wanted a bonghit. I wanted to take a huge hit then lay down on my couch and take a nap. I also want to have six pack abs, a six figure bank account, a size 6 girlfriend... I get home, plop down on my couch. I was supposed to go to the gym or go running. For lunch, I went out and bought a nice healthy salad plate from Milant, and a slice of pizza. Rationalized that I needed the carbs and cheese for "balance". Hehe, balance. I ate the pizza and put the salad in the fridge. For breakfast I had a handful of blueberries, a baby banana, and later a half bowl of fruit loops. Not a good score so far in the EAT RIGHT LIVE RIGHT game. Feeling deflated and already defeated, it was unlikely that I would make it to the gym. That anxietey was creeping up, the itch for a hit of weed, and the crushing weight of these early evening comas were pounding down on my all at once. The All Star Game was about to come on. I laughed to myself as a means of protection while I reached for the bong and the jar.
I've let myself down from various goals many many times before, so this wasn't new. It was still just as potentially depressing as ever, I have learned to deflect that with a fuck-it-ness that should be patented and sold. I took my bong hit and it felt great. I was back in familiar territory. The coma receeded slighty, still lapping at the shores of my brain, which felt like a dimly lit island inside the night of my skull. Flipping around the TV now from ESPN to Speed to Discovery to FOX. The coma was gone, but the anxiety was swelling, rising with crashing waves, slamming into my chest, my head, pushing on the back of my eyeballs. Many times in this situation, I start to think about what I COULD and SHOULD be doing instead of sitting on my couch watching TV. As I play in my mind all the scenes of what I would be doing if was who I should be, my ass cements itslef into the couch, the only movement the flicker of my eyes and the twitching of my forearm as I zap through all my channels.
This time the anxiety was amplified by a sense of purpose. It wasnt just anxietey, it was urgency. I looked over at my bike and thought, what if I went for a bike ride? This is nothing new either. I frequently come up with good ideas of what I could do right away, then I find another form of procrastination and it is smothered. Last night, I got up, put on some shorts and a t shirt and sneakers, got on my bike and left. All stoned and shaking. I was amazed that I actually did it. It was a big victory. And a rare one. I went out, rode pretty hard, and it felt great. I freaked out a little thinking my tire was going flat, but it was fine. I rode 8 miles (to 72nd and back) and got home in time for the 1st pitch of the All Star Game. I ate some leftover rice and beans (glycogen window, hehe) smoked the rest of my weed. I ended up staying up too late. Watched TV all night instead of reading, or cleaning, or doing other productive things. But it was a victory none the less.
MOTIVATION. Its the key. Hopefully it is the start of a new trend. SELF DISCIPLINE. I sill cant get out of bed when the alarm goes off. But after last night, I know its possible. One step at a time.
Above all, I really wanted a bonghit. I wanted to take a huge hit then lay down on my couch and take a nap. I also want to have six pack abs, a six figure bank account, a size 6 girlfriend... I get home, plop down on my couch. I was supposed to go to the gym or go running. For lunch, I went out and bought a nice healthy salad plate from Milant, and a slice of pizza. Rationalized that I needed the carbs and cheese for "balance". Hehe, balance. I ate the pizza and put the salad in the fridge. For breakfast I had a handful of blueberries, a baby banana, and later a half bowl of fruit loops. Not a good score so far in the EAT RIGHT LIVE RIGHT game. Feeling deflated and already defeated, it was unlikely that I would make it to the gym. That anxietey was creeping up, the itch for a hit of weed, and the crushing weight of these early evening comas were pounding down on my all at once. The All Star Game was about to come on. I laughed to myself as a means of protection while I reached for the bong and the jar.
I've let myself down from various goals many many times before, so this wasn't new. It was still just as potentially depressing as ever, I have learned to deflect that with a fuck-it-ness that should be patented and sold. I took my bong hit and it felt great. I was back in familiar territory. The coma receeded slighty, still lapping at the shores of my brain, which felt like a dimly lit island inside the night of my skull. Flipping around the TV now from ESPN to Speed to Discovery to FOX. The coma was gone, but the anxiety was swelling, rising with crashing waves, slamming into my chest, my head, pushing on the back of my eyeballs. Many times in this situation, I start to think about what I COULD and SHOULD be doing instead of sitting on my couch watching TV. As I play in my mind all the scenes of what I would be doing if was who I should be, my ass cements itslef into the couch, the only movement the flicker of my eyes and the twitching of my forearm as I zap through all my channels.
This time the anxiety was amplified by a sense of purpose. It wasnt just anxietey, it was urgency. I looked over at my bike and thought, what if I went for a bike ride? This is nothing new either. I frequently come up with good ideas of what I could do right away, then I find another form of procrastination and it is smothered. Last night, I got up, put on some shorts and a t shirt and sneakers, got on my bike and left. All stoned and shaking. I was amazed that I actually did it. It was a big victory. And a rare one. I went out, rode pretty hard, and it felt great. I freaked out a little thinking my tire was going flat, but it was fine. I rode 8 miles (to 72nd and back) and got home in time for the 1st pitch of the All Star Game. I ate some leftover rice and beans (glycogen window, hehe) smoked the rest of my weed. I ended up staying up too late. Watched TV all night instead of reading, or cleaning, or doing other productive things. But it was a victory none the less.
MOTIVATION. Its the key. Hopefully it is the start of a new trend. SELF DISCIPLINE. I sill cant get out of bed when the alarm goes off. But after last night, I know its possible. One step at a time.
posted by gros lard at 10:13 AM
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