Insane in the membrane

Lost: one me.

I just got back from a run in a 39 degree steady drizzle, that turned into a pretty good rain when I was the furthest point from my home. Well, "run" is a pretty strong word, because the drivers that passed me were not under any sort of misconception that Mercury himself had descended from Mount Olympus to run through my neighborhood. They were more likely thinking "what in the world is that lanky dork doing outside in this awful weather - he must be nuts." And you know what, before I started this whole thing, I would think similar pejoratives at anyone I saw running in this weather.

But now I'm that guy. I actually find myself excited in the mornings for my workout activity whatever it is, and looking forward to it throughout the day. This is crazy talk coming from a guy who only a few months ago would be hesitant to leave the couch unless he was going to the doughnut shop.

I think part of the pleasure comes from the elimination of the pain. I've been taking care of myself so that I don't break or wear down, and slowly but surely I have been increasing my stamina. I'm "running" faster now - I run for half an hour, and then head home on the same route to make an hour run, and I'm finding that the amount of time I walk is dramatically reduced, and the distance I travel is increasing with every run.

I have become the guy that used to piss me off. I guess he used to piss me off because I didn't think I could become him, and didn't see any reason to put that sort of effort into physical fitness. Funny that only going through the journey do I realize why to do it.

By the way, a couple of points for people in my neighborhood (not that any of them read this):

1) Walter is dead. Deal with it and take all the posters down. A domesticated housecat missing for over a month isn't coming back, and your posters are starting to run and look horrible. There are coyotes that roam the neighborhood, and every one of them I have talked to names "domesticated housecat" as their favorite midnight snack. Walter isn't coming back. Oh, by the way, why put his name on the poster? "Oh, look, the cat came to me when I called it Walter - this must be him!" I don't think so.

2) While I'm telling people who aren't going to read this what to do, I may as well tell you to pick up after your dog. There is poop all over the neighborhood, sometimes on the sidewalk even. If you're too lazy to pick up after your dog, you shouldn't have one. Oh, special hate to the person who did pick up after their dog, but left the baggie of poop sitting in the grass. Its been there for months, and it will never degrade. You, whoever you are, suck.

3) The dead animals in the neighborhood are pretty nasty. I get the "pleasure" of a forensic education seeing how long it takes them to decompose. Someone hit a skunk recently - that should be fun over the next few weeks. Stupid buzzards laying down on the job...

Okay, enough of that. I'll close with a bit of good news: I'm down 4" on the widest part of my belly. 4" of pure flab gone. Yay me.