Grit

I tried working out this afternoon after work. I was pathetic. I breezed through a couple of sets of free weights and push-ups (both of which I actually enjoy doing) and tolerated a few hundred crunches, but when I got to the treadmill I stopped after just twelve minutes, gasping for air like a drowning dog. I hate cardio.

Last summer, I got to my five-year low in terms of weight. I didn't smoke, I drank a fraction of what I do now, and I had the absolute best gym partner a guy could ever ask for. And well, not to mention, I was happy. The happiest I've ever been, actually.

Now, I'm twenty-five pounds heavier, a chain smoker and borderline alcoholic, suffering from the occasional munchies when I can't control myself, and I'm alone.

But then again, I need to lose weight if I want to get my self-esteem back. And I want that, more than ever, because I know getting it back will get me one step closer to being happy again, at least superficially. So there, I'm going to do this. I'm going to lose weight, and I know that this is possibly going to be the hardest thing I'm ever going to do, having been chunky all my life.

And I'm going to do this alone. Because if I do, I know I can do anything else I put my mind to. Armed with my protein shakes, my metabolic enhancers, and my lifetime gym membership,
I'm going to get my body back (Remember me back in high school? Roar.)

It's time to try
Defying gravity

(Yep, I actually posted a song on my blog. It inspires me.)