Good afternoon!
Gray and May... must be Chicago! No complaints though, for it is NOT raining (yet). 7 volleyball games tonight, all in the sand. Really don't want to cancel (or get soaked). I'd cross my fingers, but that would make it hard to typeoe.lalldl.a..e.;zae aknho See?
221! What happened? This is awesome! Thank you, evening bananas and almonds! Thank you brother-in-law, for pushing me out the door for an hour run last night (approx.5 miles). Thank you alarm clocks in the morning and 5am gym rats... you keep me there and happy and distracted from the tedium of consistency. So... HOW do I set aside more time for sleep? It's the missing puzzle piece...
Seriously though, 221! Yahoo! It's been a while since I've seen this number. In personal terms, this is 23 pounds lighter from the first entry in my exercise diary (3 years ago). It's also 34 pounds lighter than my heaviest recorded weight (in the foggy days of double order drive thrus and telling myself that "a night of volleyball is the same as a full workout"). I'm shaking my head and thinking of Jeff Goldblume's character in "The Big Chill" when he opined that rationalizations were more important than sex. "Ever gone a day without a juicy rationalization?" Good stuff, and VERY true.
So... a friend of mine dismissed my recent declaration that "I can't cook." She countered by saying that anyone can cook. "Can you read, Frank? Can you follow directions? You CAN cook." I tenderly pointed out that I AM illiterate, and that in a rather complicated Cyrano deBergerac'ian scheme, a secret earpiece and comedic situations have helped me navigate to the point where I was standing in front of her, claiming culinary naivete. She wasn't biting. Rats.
Well, the truth is that I don't take the time to prepare dishes outside of lunch. Take a look at a recent post where I show photos of my worktime meals... usually started on "a soft bed of baby spinach." I CAN make Cuban bread (warm, dense and delicious, just like me! haha), and I'm a whiz at Jello pretzel salad and graham cracker cookies (with a dash of butterscotch). Heck, I've even cut my teeth on Jello shots this year! (250 shots, flavored with vodka, tequila and, my favorite: amaretto!). So I DO cook, just not often or exotic dishes. Life will continue and I will add to my repertoire.
Alright... time to go. The gym is calling, as is that elusive number.... 219! (I whispered that number, by the way). Seems within reach. We're at the pinnacle of the week's physical training. Why not make a run for the sun?
Have a great night. Thanks for reading!
Frank
p.s. in a surprise stomach-churning turn of events, I'm playing volleyball tonight against the recent ex-girlfriend who is "still waiting for (/stalking) me". I'm only half kidding when I say... please don't do me any harm. We had a good run. The run is done. It's my hope that you can hang on to the good memories and carry them on into a bright future. Or as my culinary-minded friend would say... "Saute it forward."
F
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