I’m writing this (and googling calf massagers) right now for one reason. So I don’t eat.
I’ve been doing intermittent fasting for about four weeks now. 16/8. In other words, I have an eight hour feeding window, usually from 2pm to 10pm, give or take.
I’m not sure how much progress I’ve made. Sometimes I feel like I’m getting results. Other times, not so much. When I see the family today, I’m sure someone will comment on my weight or physique, or lack thereof. Haha. You know how fam’ly do. I have an end-of-the-cycle weigh-in the next time I’m in the gym so we’ll see. I’ll be disappointed if the scale or body fat numbers haven’t improved. Then I’ll have to pay closer attention to the other numbers: calories, macros, micros, quality of food.
I shook my head and swiped to the next blood red news. Fourteen injured and I didn’t blink. I didn’t think any more of it. That’s how inured I am. It was type on pages. Then I saw their faces and the shell of apathy cracked and the patina faded. These kids are dead. These children died. And I’m a grown man so when I cried it was on the inside and I took deep breaths until — my eyes cleared and the lump in my throat subsided. Choke down the shame that our society decided that this is the price of freedom.
Technically, first cousin once removed, which (I had to look it up) qualifies as nephew. But nephew doesn’t seem quite right.
Apparently, there had been a storm brewing for a long time. There’s only so much a person can take and only so much a person can do.
I understand. I don’t even know what to say. When it comes to mental health, we need to be okay getting help the same as if we needed surgery or stitches or broke a bone. But what do we do when that doesn’t work? When the bone is set but never fully mends? Life isn’t kind sometimes. Life isn’t fair. We struggle with things we didn’t ask for, earn, or deserve.
Keep trying. Fight the good fight. Love and be loved. Be kind to ourselves. Be patient with ourselves. And live as an action. With intent.
Inside: Snowboarding! Return of the Mack; Swim IV; the Cooper Test
You don’t understand.
I am stoked to be able to snowboard. I’ve been thinking for years that I was going to have to sell all of my snowboard gear.
Back in early 2015 I did the REI Learn to Ski or Snowboard class at Liberty Resort. Then I kept going back. Went with some friends once or twice. M showed me the ropes and ended up taking me on a black diamond run. I wasn’t ready. I wanted to be. I wasn’t. D and Z spent some quality time with me on a weekday night on the green runs. Many thanks. I bought the rest-of-the-season deal, I bought a snowboard and accessories, and my family gave me $$ for my birthday so I could buy a season pass for the following season. (Guess who cheaped out and didn’t buy the season pass insurance.)
Learn to shoot (right handed and left eye dominant is awkward)
Photo exhibit at Artomatic
Play live music
Write a book (or finish a book since I’ve started stories)
Continue to recuperate the knees
PRs in the gym
Do the health thing
Road trip, travel
Personally, I predict intense restlessness. I’m kind of overwhelmed and overstimulated and overbored at the same time. I know I’m not the only one.
I need to get better at doing the things I mean to do. I need to make more music, one way or another. I need to work on my hat art.
I want to take more photos of people. I want to experiment with color palettes, shapes and sensuality. Visually stunning in ways other than raw sex appeal.
A few years ago I quipped about making my mark, finding my niche, maybe even actually making money by being a butt photographer. Haha. Very funny.
Now everybody’s a butt photographer! Go figure.
I LIKE TO MOVE IT MOVE IT
I did do a lot of things I wanted to and things I didn’t expect at all. There was some good stuff in there. It’s easy to forget what happened. It’s times like this that I’m glad I have a photography addiction.