Another Boring Post about Exercise

Why is it that I have all these things about which I want to write, and then i sit down and can't remember any of them?

Thanks to kstyle, I joined the gym again, specifically so I can do some interval training on the rowing machine--which is perfectly suited for such training, given that there's a little timer on the actual machine. I also like that it works my whole body, not just my lower body. I signed up last Thursday, and i actually went again today, and i walked home afterwards (it's about a mile from my building, which is a perfect cool-down distance). I don't know what I'm going to do over the long term, but I don't have to solve that problem now. For the summer, this could be a good solution--walk to work, get to some yoga classes, stop at the gym a few days a week for the rowing machine--because there aren't 47 layers of clothing and coats involved.

I don't know what's going to happen, but I have been getting steadily more annoyed with myself. I did cut myself a little slack, because, hey, my whole life changed in a matter of a couple of weeks, plus then there was a little stress at the new job, but enough complaining already and DO something. I have been walking to and/or from work a few days a week (about three miles one way), but I know my own body well enough to know that that's not enough for me. If I find that I'm sticking with this in a way that seems likely to last, I'm even willing to shell out some serious bucks for a good rowing machine (provided it'll fit in my apartment, which I think it will). I know that winter will demotivate me all over again--who wants to change clothes and such for a 20-minute interval-training workout?--but, as noted, I don't have to solve that problem now.

I still haven't had a chance to see CK. Chuck and I had a little go-round last week, probably stress-induced. (After all, he and his ex bought that house before CK was even conceived, so he had a certain amount of memories embedded there, too.) We'd managed to avoid those for many months, but I knew better than to think I'd never get another nastygram from him, not least because we've never really talked, in person, about what happened to our relationship. I've certainly done a lot of thinking about it, though he doesn't really believe that I have--not reaching the same conclusions as him = not thinking about it, or something.

Anyway, our third anniversary would have been this Thursday, which annoys me beyond all reason. What annoys me, actually, is that we never HAD an anniversary: he'd moved out before we could do that. I don't know why it bugs me so much, exactly, but there it is. Needless to say, I'm not going to share that tidbit with him; I fail to see what purpose it could possibly serve. But fucking with me = bad idea.

And can we have a moment of raucous laughter in memory of George Carlin? Somehow a moment of silence seems like the wrong thing.