200 lbs. That’s how much I weigh. It’s the most I’ve ever weighed. And I feel it. And my doctor, head doctor that he is, feels it. He’s got a gadget that spins and tells him that a guy with a stature of 5′8″ should weigh 165 lbs. If I did my mathematics correctly, that’s a 35 pound overture. I’d like to look better–I am single, you know, and not getting any younger. And I’d like to feel better. And–this is an important distinction for me–I want to health and wellbeing to come into sharper focus in the forefront of the new lifestyle I’m building. I’ve made myself pretty unhealthy, and not just with the extra poundage. My lungs, my head, my liver…I know it and I feel it. So, I’ve got to literally recover from that, answer it with some healthifying. But I’ve also want to use the acquisition of a general health awareness and proactivity as a tool in my recovery recovery. Part of the fix for the crack. I also need it to be able to climb The Nose, which is a goal I have for its own sake as well as a structuring device, a route, a key component, a dangling carrot in my new no drugs drive. And then, I want my post-return-to-contributing-member-of-society life to be founded upon and energized, informed by, and partly organized by a strong health awareness and healthy habits. Did you get that? Three things, in a nutshell, the new healthy orientation will do: redress my poor physical health, aid in overcoming my drug addiction, and serve as a platform from which the rest of my life will spring. I know it sounds hokey, but I mean it. This line of thinking has been floating around my head for some time now, and with how tired I’ve been, and how slow to get on my feet and get things going–I can’t believe how much longer it’s taking me to do things than it used to or than I imagine it will–it wasn’t until yesterday that I went out shopping for a gym membership. Convenience is big. Can’t take any more time, energy or gasoline than necessary. So I went to the two closest sweat factories to check them out. I hate that gyms have sales people, visitor cards to fill out, protracted facilities tours, and sign-up today gimmicks; I would like it so much better if you could just walk in, walk around, grab a price sheet, and walk out. I confirmed my suspicions that I don’t need fancy, I just need equipment, so I picked the cheapest one.

Over a bowl of Peanut Butter Cap’n Crunch this morning, I observed to my mother that it is much more fun getting set-up than it is getting going, that the shopping, the planning, dreaming, scheming, and getting the infrastructure in place is, it dawns on you after that phase has passed, easier and more exciting than executing, than putting on some goofy shorts, getting in a pink truck (from which you will emerge mohawked), walking in, and pressing Fat Burn on the elliptical machine, especially, I told my mother, because for me, right now, being unemployed and generally uncommitted except to myself and my flying on those proverbial winds of change, I only have one thing I have to do all week, and that’s take the dog to obedience class on Wednesday, and because that keys him up, an hour at the dog park (a half hour away) beforehand is a necessity, and in my mind, I picture it as a double-deckered skyscraper on the Oklahoma plain of my week. Really. It’s dog day. And a big day for both of us. I’m getting better about it as my stamina increases bit by bit, but the first couple times I really came home pooped after such relatively short-term, low-level innocuousness. So, today’s Wednesday. My one big day. I didn’t want to add a workout on top of that. In my mind, that would be all it took to totally fill my day. And I really wasn’t sure I should start today. Tomorrow might be better. But my better judgement and rekindled shame-avoidance instinct made me realize that I had spent enough time on deck picking my bat out; it was time to step up to the plate. And, especially now that I make no money and am in substantial (for my tastes) debt, I wasn’t going to continue the time-honored tradition of slapping down for a membership and then never going. So I went. Did 30 minutes of cardio and 3 sets of ab things before I had to get back to relieve mother from dog duty so she could get her perm. Not a stunning debut, but not bad considering. Considering that, except for my brief period of Carolina swimming and biking, I have been Mr. and Mrs. Sedentary with a smoking habit.