nocturnalist

Ah, exercise.

After a bit of a hiatus in which work and travel were taking me away from my lunchtime group and the season was making me indolent and hibernation-prone, I'm starting to be semi-active again.

Exercise is like writing. I cringe at the thought of having to do it, put it off, build it up into this hideous big ordeal in my head when I'm trying to actually get myself to do it, and then, if I haven't managed to talk myself out of it, I feel fantastic afterward and keep having to remind myself: "Remember this? The big goofy smile, the spring in your step? This is why you do this shit."

Anyway, one cool thing about exercising in weather like this is, no matter how uncomfortable I am at the start, in short order I'm glowing. Today was icy, but not too far into today's lunchtime gig I was down to a T-shirt and had sweat flying off me in all directions. On the weekend, too, my place was frigid (I could see my breath in front of me in the lounge room) and even my little heater barely took the edge off. But an hour's walk to fetch groceries and I was happily warm for hours.

Plus, it helps my slow climb out of fat-bastardry. Plus, push-ups on my lounge room floor remind me that the rug needs vacuuming.

Had the opening scene of what I hope will be a rather cool crime story hit me over the head last week. Three thousand words or so down and I'm itching to get back to it, but there's other stuff i have to finish first.

On that note...