by Crom

I’ve spent the better part of the last 7 months in and out of the United States. I started my new job in April of 2003, and up until that time I’d been unemployed since the previous October. My job with Imperial Oil had dropped on its ass when the company shit the bed because of bad sales/Kyoto/Voodoo predictions and other shit. Having little prospects and being disheartened by my dismissal from the IT scene, I didn’t really do much. Except go to the Gym. It was the only activity I engaged in during that time, I didn’t go out; I didn’t see friends or go to movies. I went to the gym and lifted, almost everyday. I never achieved any peaks in lifting, I never maxed out and hit a groove, it was always a bit of a ride. I was going with people who were also weaker then me, so I got the opportunity to lift low weight, high reps and work on being harder, not bigger. Anyone who’s met me can attest to the fact that I don’t need to get any bigger, just better.

And then I got a new job. A great job in fact, traveling around and making good money. I stopped going to the Gym, mostly because I was only in town for a few days at a time. The few days that I had in town were spent enjoying being in my own bed, and home. Now however the game has changed again. I’ve recently changed departments to take a job that will be in town again. So I started heading back to the gym, to get back into the mind and body state I wanted back then. Now I know something very important.

I’m a friggin’ weakling.

I’m not kidding at all. I’m barely able to lift the weight I was doing then, never mind doing the number of reps I used to expect from myself. It surprised the hell out of me when I was doing the bench press and nearly crushed my throat with the bar. I did triceps, a way out that I usually crush into the earth (I have arms like giant hams) and I was sweating like mad to get out my usual set. I’ve become a 10 year old girl and can barely lift my glass of water to my lips. It’s shocked and amazed me how much I’ve lost in the 7 months I was on the road. I wasn’t locked in the hole like a prisoner, or hit by a truck and going through physio.

I think I’m going to have to get a powered wheel chair now, and sink into decrepitude with a comfortable sigh. I’ll now endeavor to be one of those specials they have on day time talk shows where I need to be moved out of my home via forklift, and I have bedsores from years passed. I look forward now to incontinence and urinating into a pan, I think it’s the smart choice. I can purchase 15 cats or so and just leave food around for them to find, or get a home care nurse that has to do things for me that she’s not paid to, but she does anyways because she feels pity for me. I can move into the bracket of people whose body fat so far exceeds anything else in my body that I make a beached whale blush. I can become a pseudo-hero for a league of people who feel its okay to be out of shape and dangerously close to hospitalization due to obesity. I can get diabetes and liver problems, but all the while I’ll be the screaming advocate that I shouldn’t be judged for being heavy, and that I should be considered just as beautiful. I can go around to school’s and tell people that it’s okay to be overweight, and that you shouldn’t be persecuted for it.

Just tell everyone that my irresponsibility and laziness that made me the way I am is perfectly acceptable behavior. That it is okay to be a drain on the health system, when one day I need to be in ICU while my heart is worked on like an old buick. Show all the kids that there’s no need to keep healthy and strong, because it’s acceptable to eat shit and become useless.

Hm, maybe I wandered with my point slightly…

Think I’ll head to the gym.

  • Hiatus
  • by Crom
  • Published on November 1st, 2003

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