@39

Things change. I was just thinking of a small train station in a coastal village in France. Compared to the complexes of Paris, Roscoff had such a quaint station. In 2004, there were colorful flower boxes at the end of the track. I had just come off the ship and milled around the few, bored pigeons that puttered about. This gare was at the end of the line, not just a pit stop like almost every other station I've frequented in Europe. I was amazed that if I stayed on those tracks long enough, I would find myself in the City of Light. Today I learned that although it opened in 1883, Gare de Roscoff was ultimately shuttered by flooding on June 3, 2018 and remains boarded up to this day.

Sometimes it pains me to return to a warm memory to see how it has changed for the worse over time.

With regards to my own June 3, 2018, I look back and consider...well, the words I wrote that day (and speaks to a future 2020):

But, look: we've got a lot of sunshine out there...a lot of air to breathe...water...and with a little prep, there's food. Somewhere along the way, we fouled all of that and inserted scarcity into the system...thereby causing fear...thereby causing hate. We're more than that, much, much more.

But, I fail. I think how I can protect my little fiefdom, my little domain of a little king. It's far, far too easy to snarl at each other. It's far too easy to cling and tear down with gravity and entropy, than to lift up and build. There are a lot of broken people out there. By breaking you, I better me? What logic is this?
...
In the end, this tearing down of each other, whether in some silly, non-specific political anger...or a corporate ladder to nowhere nonsense...or the Hey Jealousy of bygones ago...or anything else really—including the clothes we root for, ultimately shows a lack of self-awareness and self-confidence. It is...a scarcity mindset that corrupts our body and our soul. And I'd make a guess, that it is the symptom of an old wound that we keep picking at instead of allowing it to heal. Or just low intelligence stemming from a head being at the business end of a tack hammer.

In this whole, body transformation thing of mine, it's more than just taking a six-pack off the shelf. It's about forging the character within as well, be the person that I want to be around, and as the Tim McGraw lyric goes, become "a friend a friend would like to have."

What I Have Found in My Front Yard

When I've launched off a series of successful Expeditions in the past, I by far have had greater wind in my sails. Today, I limp forward with two swollen feet, my door prize from this past weekend's yard adventures.

I really dislike yardwork. You're either sitting on the steps of heat exhaustion, being stung by yellow jackets, wincing from fire ant bites or scratching from poison ivy running all up and down your leg.

Somewhere along the way, folks thought short grass was a good idea. Guess they figured they were back in the old country and wanted a few rounds of golf. I reckon we can chalk it up to folks wanting to look like other folks who—you guessed it—want to look like them in turn! It's just one big ol' game of ping-pong until somebody else comes up with something new to do.

Shea

I have a "new" guitar. She is Shea.

My reflection, dirty mirror
There's no connection to myself
...
Throw out your cares and fly
Wanna go for a ride
(Shea's) the one for me
(Shea's) all I really need, oh yeah

-Smashing Pumpkins, Zero

Admittedly, I always thought that lyric was Shea and not just a nasal she. But, that's not the point. Since Fall 2000 and my on-again / off-again relationships with guitars—a total of nine or ten—until now, they have all been without a name. For $20 at a yard sale, Shea's a 2015 Ibanez entry-level guitar with a white, perhaps pearl, solid body. Now the guitar bag smells like a chick, a scent that immediately reminded me of high school and hence 1995's Zero.

I don't have an amp—I don't rush into any kind of commitment with her. As it has been said, "I always take a relationship to the next level. If that works out, I take it to the next level after that, until I finally reach that level when it becomes absolutely necessary for me to leave."

The Thirty-Fourth Expedition

I recently wrote of my desire to abandon the Expeditions; I also wrote to reinstate them. In the short term, if a year can be considered short, the Expeditions prove to be a successful weightloss vehicle to drive toward a specific date—for a beach trip, a wedding, etc.

The Expeditions' focus is on weightloss with values that mean absolutely nothing to anyone but me. No one cares about the weigh-ins. Even as a unit of measure, no one really understands the value of a lb of weightloss—well, other than folks at 5'9 ¾. Again, obviously, there's not a number that floats above our heads that lets everyone know where we are on the scale. But we sure live lives that look that way!

Then again, as Faith Hill sings

When I don't know what to say
Don't know what to do
Don't know if it really even matters to you
How can I make you see
It matters to me

So, it does matter, even if it is just to me. Come to think about it, that's about as relevant as a thing to be. See this website title for more information.

But what about a state of being? I'm disinterested in doing, but being interests me. Doing can be so flippant: I do one thing, I turn around and do something else. In time, our behavior in this being approach will bear fruit. Being is a correlated state that is consistent.

"Yes, this is all well and good Bill, but what of it?"

I want both paths. I want the win now results of the Expeditions, because the doing provides an outcome that boots me toward self-actualization of the being.

This past weekend I was weakened. Yardwork sidelined me as I felt I needed a quick infusion of sugar. Well, that version of me that was lying on the floor from the 110℉ heat index with a midday wrastling with a belligerent string trimmer. With no purpose, the merit of "it's just a good idea" did not inspire me on to victory the following day.

I need an overarching idea. When I've got to dig deep, I've got to have something to push toward. When trying to be something, along the way, there are certain milestones to hit—things to do. The brilliance of the Expeditions is in that specific function. Instead of a goal of an N number weightloss or even a generalized fitness identity, they are a percentage loss in competition with each other. Even though I cannot directly control weightloss, I recognized that certain meals correlate to success. By extension and two hops away from weightloss, workouts correlated to me eating certain meals. And when I could tie a musical theme into an Expedition, it correlated more. Success for me:

Music -> Workouts -> High-Fat Carnivore -> Body Optimization

It is all about correlation. In the same neighborhood is consistent behavior. When someone is Batman, what behavior would you expect? Is it the same as Ironman?

I broke that "new" habit of the past month and earned the grammatically illustrious achievement of...

Current streak: 001 day.

So like a Journey song, I get the joy of rediscovering carnivore. This "highway run into the midnight sun" has defined what I have done since 2018, even before I knew what would be.

Will there be 3 AMs in my future? Will I kick each day off at 2:30 AM—oh, how I do love the night! These nights—I have been staying up to times I used to set my alarm for! No, I am sure I will pull all of that together. The thing I do now is just take a step forward.

It is a singular thing. It does not have to be this convoluted plan of attack that relies on a series of successful outcomes to fall into place for victory—it's no Ardennes Offensive.

I just needed to do one thing yesterday: "I took my (bacon), I took it down." String together a series of days like what I just did and BLAM, that's how you drop 100 lbs. What I do with my time are enhancements. But as far as weightloss goes, like a Cars' song, I did "just what I needed."

Just repeat. I'm reminded of Pearl Jam's Just Breathe.

So, I walk up on high
And I step to the edge
To see my world below.
And I laugh at myself
While the tears roll down,
'Cause it's the world I know,
Oh, it's the world I know.

-Collective Soul