[ Thursday, February 05, 2004 ]Tight FitStarbuck [23:47] Comments: 0 [] Its funny how you adapt your mind to your body over time. When I was young I was a sprinter. Masses of fast-twitch muscle in those finely-tuned tree trunk legs of mine, y'see. Years later I bacame relatively weighty. Too much fatty food and alcohol, too little exercise. It happened without me realising it. And then, a few years ago, a very intensive exercise regime that I had forced upon myself, coupled with a trip to sweltering China, a drastic cut in my alcohol consumption, and a switch of diet from grill-steaks to carbohydrate (a reverse-Atkins!) made the stones drop off me (metric readers - 1 stone = 6.35029318 kilograms; thank you Google Calculator.) But recently, apart from one blip in September last year, I've not been doing much exercise at all lately. I'd hardly noticed. OK, so some of my trousers seemed to have become too small to humanly fit my waist into - but surely my hip-bones have always been that width, there's no way I could have ever fit into them - they must've shrunk in the wash. Or maybe I'd hardly cared - yeah, I was thin - too thin - for a while, as I exercised my body to the bone in a bid to exert some control over my life, control that I felt I was lacking in my mind, and that I could only grasp by changing it. More socially acceptable than self-harm, less self-servingly-self-destructive than bulimia. I had found what I needed to gain that mental inner strength without shame, to gain that control I was lacking, to confront my demons head-on in the sweat of adrenaline, and to boost my self-esteem by turning myself into a god. Everything. And I did manage to find everything that I needed. I found myself. And I liked what I found. So I stopped exercising, no longer needing the pain, or the adrenaline, or the need to change myself, or the means to delve into the dark recesses of myself where I wouldn't normally dare to tred. And, over time, my bodily volume has filled as adipose tissue has accumulated. Not a problem - I feel better not being able to feel bones through flesh, and I'm told I look good. I certainly feel healthier, in a different kind of manner to the healthiness I felt when I was running for hours every other night. The problem, and the reason for starting this slightly digressive essay, is that I can't fit into my bleedin' salopettes, and I'm going to need them in a few days. Jeez, I shouldn't be sitting here writing this guff, I should be finishing off my packing before doing sit-ups for the rest of the night - otherwise, myself and my skiing trousers just aren't going to have a good symbiotic relationship. Grrrrroan! Maybe I can perform liposuction with a vacuum cleaner. (But not through that nozzle.) So the Viper Squad Ten blog will be bereft of Starbuck-based excitement for a week or so. Hopefully my Sub Editors will keep the home-fires burning with their inimitable style of bollox. Whatever, I shall see y'all soon, complete with broken leg and a girdle of pinched-away flesh encircling the circumference of my waist. 0 Comment(s):[ Click HERE for the VSX front-page... ] |
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