Work Things Out
Workouts work. You don't notice from one day to the next. But over time the effects accumulate until you catch your image reflected off a mirror or a glass door and you realize: Look at that! I'm built! Hey everbody! Come check me out!
I'm not talking Brad Pitt in Thelma and Louise built. Or Brad Pitt in Fight Club built. Or Brad Pitt in any movie where you can see his abs built. But built so it's clear that the physique came from doing a lot more than 12 oz. curls.
I've never been a freak about it. No serious bodybuilding or steroids or anything like that. But the leaner I am the better I feel. Some exercise expert I interviewed for a story about the benefits of walking years ago explained that the body is designed to do work. It simply functions better when you regularly give it things to do.
I normally do that. But I got into an especially good rhythm starting last month. I had a three week freelance gig with a set Monday through Friday 9 a.m.-6 p.m. schedule. Every day I woke up early enough to get a workout in before I reported for my reporting duty. I took Saturdays off but not Sundays.
I've kept the routine up since the work stint ended except I sleep in until 7 a.m. now and I don't always work out first thing in the morning. But I've hit the weights six days a week for more than a month now and the rewards are showing.
And, of course, I have no one to show it off to. If I did, would I have to brag about it here? What is blogspot if not a new avenue for people to cry for attention? I use it to work things out in my head but, really, how many people publish something on the Internet who don't hope someone stumbles upon it and thinks its author is totally cool?
(Or, in this case, totally hot.)
Speaking of workouts for my head, I've been trying to read more. You can distinguish reading for entertainment from reading for exercise. The rare work does both. Once I got into it, I looked forward to plowing back into John Irving's The Cider House Rules. It was as illuminating as it was entertaining.
Now I'm reading -- here's where the "trying to" comes in -- a collection of John Updike's early short stories. He writes in his introduction about his "duty to give the mundane its beautiful due." Of that I have no doubt after reading a couple of his earliest efforts. I'm sure he gets better as he goes.
But the thing about so-called serious reading is that its rewards aren't immediate. Read Danielle Steel and the payoff comes with the inevitable happy ending. You're not going to admire the beautifully and intricately constructed plots. You can usually predict what's going to happen in the first 20 pages. But what you see coming is what you want to see happen and the joy is watching the love story blossom.
John Updike won't do that for you. He peppers you with bits of wisdom throughout his stories. I recognize it; I appreciate it; and I know it's like weightlifting for my brain. But like my other workouts, they're most fun when I'm finished with them.
Lucky for me I also checked out a Kinky Friedman novel. He turned to novel writing after a moderately successful career fronting a blues/rock band called Kinky Friedman and the Texas Jewboys. Although he will surprise you with a piece of philosophy, he will just as often make you laugh out loud. Do not read one of his books while consuming liquid or while holding a full bladder. In either case you risk spewing fluid. His brain is differently twisted from most of ours but therin lies his charm. I'm still not sure it would make me want him to be the next governor of Texas, a job for which he has put his literary career on hold to pursue, but it's worth a few care free hours of my time.
Probably unlike the novella I just put you through. I bet if you slogged through all of it you feel like you went through a workout.
I'm not talking Brad Pitt in Thelma and Louise built. Or Brad Pitt in Fight Club built. Or Brad Pitt in any movie where you can see his abs built. But built so it's clear that the physique came from doing a lot more than 12 oz. curls.
I've never been a freak about it. No serious bodybuilding or steroids or anything like that. But the leaner I am the better I feel. Some exercise expert I interviewed for a story about the benefits of walking years ago explained that the body is designed to do work. It simply functions better when you regularly give it things to do.
I normally do that. But I got into an especially good rhythm starting last month. I had a three week freelance gig with a set Monday through Friday 9 a.m.-6 p.m. schedule. Every day I woke up early enough to get a workout in before I reported for my reporting duty. I took Saturdays off but not Sundays.
I've kept the routine up since the work stint ended except I sleep in until 7 a.m. now and I don't always work out first thing in the morning. But I've hit the weights six days a week for more than a month now and the rewards are showing.
And, of course, I have no one to show it off to. If I did, would I have to brag about it here? What is blogspot if not a new avenue for people to cry for attention? I use it to work things out in my head but, really, how many people publish something on the Internet who don't hope someone stumbles upon it and thinks its author is totally cool?
(Or, in this case, totally hot.)
Speaking of workouts for my head, I've been trying to read more. You can distinguish reading for entertainment from reading for exercise. The rare work does both. Once I got into it, I looked forward to plowing back into John Irving's The Cider House Rules. It was as illuminating as it was entertaining.
Now I'm reading -- here's where the "trying to" comes in -- a collection of John Updike's early short stories. He writes in his introduction about his "duty to give the mundane its beautiful due." Of that I have no doubt after reading a couple of his earliest efforts. I'm sure he gets better as he goes.
But the thing about so-called serious reading is that its rewards aren't immediate. Read Danielle Steel and the payoff comes with the inevitable happy ending. You're not going to admire the beautifully and intricately constructed plots. You can usually predict what's going to happen in the first 20 pages. But what you see coming is what you want to see happen and the joy is watching the love story blossom.
John Updike won't do that for you. He peppers you with bits of wisdom throughout his stories. I recognize it; I appreciate it; and I know it's like weightlifting for my brain. But like my other workouts, they're most fun when I'm finished with them.
Lucky for me I also checked out a Kinky Friedman novel. He turned to novel writing after a moderately successful career fronting a blues/rock band called Kinky Friedman and the Texas Jewboys. Although he will surprise you with a piece of philosophy, he will just as often make you laugh out loud. Do not read one of his books while consuming liquid or while holding a full bladder. In either case you risk spewing fluid. His brain is differently twisted from most of ours but therin lies his charm. I'm still not sure it would make me want him to be the next governor of Texas, a job for which he has put his literary career on hold to pursue, but it's worth a few care free hours of my time.
Probably unlike the novella I just put you through. I bet if you slogged through all of it you feel like you went through a workout.
posted by jack at 7:16 PM
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