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| BIRTH OF THE UBERMENSCH |  | Category: Personal
Saturday, March 23rd, 2002 @ 01:38 pm
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This past week has found me in rather rare form. A million circumstances all fell into place at once and the result has been -for lack of a better word- groundshaking. At least insofar as one might consider my head the ground.
Last weekend was a wonderful time filled with hanging out with those of you I know and love in this fair city. However, it was yet another weekend where very little economic input was coming from me and though I had lots of fun I was left feeling like a mooch. And if there is one type of human I have absolute hatred for at this point in the game, it's a mooch. So there's part of it. I was a mooch last weekend and I hate mooches. Something's got to change.
Part of the mooching resulted in my accepting a pack of cigarettes that I lacked the funds for at the time. And then I got home from my weekend of mooching and found that my finances didn't really allow for the purchase of cigarettes. And boy was I pissed. I tried cleaning my room and ended up throwing just about everything I picked up due to frustration tied with some aspect of where it was when I picked it up or some minor difficulty involved in putting it away. Then something got me really angry (something physical and substantial- not just the lame philosophical shit I usually go off on) and I just had to get out. So I went for a walk. And that walk was brisk. And that walk became a run. I ran for like two miles without stopping. Yes. I, who claim to be willing to walk to Cuba before running a block, ran for two miles. And did my little brain race.
My brain raced and said it was time to stop being a mooch. That means getting finances in order. That means cutting out wasteful expenses. Four dollars a day time thirty days a month equals one hundred and twenty dollars that could go to anything else. Anyfucking thing else. But I would be facing an increase in appetite and a hit in metabolic rate. This would not be the last night I'd be running. As I ran and felt my blood pumping and my muscles working in concert to move me forward, I realized what needed to happen. For twenty-six years I have dumped endless unrelated facts into my head. I have watched behind the music. I have read trivial pursuit cards. I put a blue led in my old answering machine just to see if I could do it. I've focused me attentions on a porn star and collected every picture I could find. I've seen the heart of a nuclear missile laid open and then reassembled. I can easily and confidently explain the origin of the term "breakdancing". My brain may not be the best when compared to those of my esteemed associates, but it's got a fair amount of sharp to it. My body is what is lacking. And that is going to change.
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It's about fucking time.
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I have goals. In the long run, I am aiming for something a little short of swoll. Why not swoll? Am I simply aiming low so that I don't have to work too much? No. Two reasons. One, I don't like the word swoll. Two, I've never much cared for the muscle-bound look. But I want command of this meat I'm living in. I want to knock out a few pullups. I want to knock out way more than a few pushups. And already I am making progress towards this. Within two months, if I stay focused, I should be able to enjoy a trip to the beach without the protection of a shirt to cover my pale, flabby self. And I have one person to thank as proof that all of this is possible.
I called him fat and he made himself not fat. And now I will do the same with myself. And then I will have achieved my own definition of ubermensch. I will be in possession of a sharp mind and a developed body. I will be able to carry my own in an argument as I have always done- with strongarm tactics like "shutup, you're fat". And I'll be able to last maybe a minute or two in a fight, as opposed to the ten seconds I could muster now. Regrettably, this has not been a very well-reasoned or laid out update, but it's been a few days of bnetd stuff and this is really just a mission statement. This is something for people to rib me about and ask if I'm keeping up with. This is not the "I'm not gonna drink thing". I lacked true purpose then. I do not now.
Over and out.
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