Thematic Elements

Regarding this website, I have championed for this season's neutral tones and its focus on typography. And yet, I feel as though its spirit is lost. Not that anyone cares about that—what audience do I have (as if that was a motivator)? No, this place has always been my own oasis. I suppose in application, it is just a peg above a Word doc. When it comes to the passage of time, any aesthetics play the role of car wax. What is left after twenty years? It does amuse that in a post from June 4, 2003, I reference morning routines I previously did at "Bartlett Rec."

Recently, I have written about my desire to bring retrowave, something that ran in parallel to my 2018, 2019 and thereafter successes. Just the other day, my wife surprised me with a fantastic gift, a Stranger Things Retro Arcade Desk Mat. In the upcoming week, I should be rolling out something different, yet something that fits into that 2018/2019 theme, just evolving it to 2023.

Fitness

I did NOT fat fast yesterday. Oh, I nearly did! I was sitting at 3 grams of protein at 7:30 PM. But, with the holiday the next day, I chose another night of binges on Breaking Bad and chicken wings (no, they were not of Los Pollos Hermanos). Still, I managed to hit 78 grams of protein for the day, just 3 over my limit.

I suppose It is uncharacteristic of me to have a late night thereby skipping my morning routine, but I recognize that in this sixth week of training, things are different. The training will shift. I do not want to train to be trained to train at a gym.

My diet remains largely the same, though I look forward to the re-emergence of beef. There was just a bit of work to get through that 50 lb box of Gordon's chicken wings. The protein average is the lowest of all 32 Expeditions. At 211 grams of fat, I am at the middle: should I pull it back to 200 or ramp it up to 220?

I never know if I ought to schematically approach Sunday as part of the weekend or the kickoff to a new week. It is a pivot point, isn't it? And thus, does my fat fast correct the excesses of the last week or does it shape my outlook for the upcoming week? These aren't mutually exclusive, I suppose.

Whether coming or going I do not know, but Sunday is a doorway. And if I may steal from Semisonic, Sunday is the "time for you to go out to the places you will be from."

I am entering the sixth week of my resistance regimen; I have left the sixth week of my cardio gym. I don't have my workout template to share; I don't know what it's going to look like. I know there won't be days when I have to cut the last couple of sets because of time. I do visualize the ROI on that set of NordicTrack adjustable dumbbells and that incline bench...

I am doing something new by invoking what I led off in April 2018. I will not be wilting at age 45 from the noonday sun. No, I am death:

We’re all scared. You hid in that ditch because you think there’s still hope. But Blithe, the only hope you have is to accept the fact that you’re already dead. And the sooner you accept that, the sooner you’ll be able to function

-Band of Brothers

I ran across a fun playlist on YouTube Music: College Radio Memories. For me, it hearkens back to various eras, but my mind jumped to that time in Arizona around '06 and '07 when I listened to a lot of Cure and Smith's along with Grant-Lee Phillips 80s cover album, Nineteeneighties, which tied new wave into my interests at that time with Springsteen's albums Nebraska and The Ghost of Tom Joad, unique to that corner of my life in the Sedona sunset.

I have continued my diet streak now for 187 days. Since I took the prior to 637, I don't think about my streaks much these days—I should. There was a time I found pride in making 86 days.

Again, I once proudly wore this T-shirt:

(front:)

(back:)

I loved that shirt (even if now it is in a landfill—"on to Cincinnati") because it captured a summary of all the times I earned it, that I dug deep and made the play. And within its subtext, it told a story of when streaks were snapped. Yet, in my shame, I inserted another coin to play the game. That was the early tagline to my site: INSERT COIN.

I say all of that because I almost snapped my streak yesterday. This week has been challenging. Yesterday, it all reached a singular point as I traveled metaphorically through a murky stretch of woods. I addressed a bit of it in the proceeding post.

This moment underscores how untrustworthy a feeling can be. In the moment, it feels like I can roll with it. A part of me says, "Yeah, you know that Little Debbie snack cake with the creme? That'll totally make you feel good!" But, I've been down that road...I never win when I do. Short-term fun for what? And if it was a single moment, sure, it would just be a blip on the trail. But, it is at the minimum a 3-month tumble that takes just as long to rest. And there goes half of my year in this tug-of-war to just wind right back at the startling line with a 0. So, that is why I refrain. In those weak moments, I gotta trust the decision I already made, that I feel better when I win.