Yesterday, I, ran.

Sometimes when it's all caving in the only thing that makes you feel better is running. Note that I didn't type "running away." There is a difference there. One solves something, the other solves nothing.

I read a lot of blogs where people seem content living in a state of wallowing self-hatred. Fuck that. Do something with yourself. You're not dead.

I ran the parkway out front of my apartment. I only got through not even a mile before my body told me to stop. It's been about a year since I put running shoe to concrete and boy did it ever show. My lungs felt like they had committed a most reprehensible sin and were sent to die forever in the eternal hellfire of hades while still entombed in my chest.

Yeah. It hurt. But, you know what? It's that hurt only self betterment can put you through. The kind of pain you feel when you know you're doing something that makes you happier instead of more of the same.

I'm at a mean one hundred and ninety-three pounds, that's the heaviest I've been in about six years. Once I capped out at two hundred and twenty el-bees and told myself enough was enough. I've vowed to never, ever get there again.

Lately I've found I'm repeating old habits and I'm well on my way to that paramount of weight through the wanton sea-maiden call of inactivity.

I went on a diet then and I can do it again. No, I probably wont get back down to one hundred and sixty-nine pounds, but you know what? I'M THIRTY! So fuck it! But I have to be happier with my self-image and sitting in front of the 360 for four hours before Jess gets home is not making me feel better about myself.

It's the perpetual pain of self improvement. I don't look forward to it -- I'll be honest -- but it's not like my increasing gamerscore is doing wonders for my self-esteem.

This is all leading up the point where I say, I'm reinstating my gym membership. I'm going to sign up and go to the gym with my buddy Bone. This needs to happen. He put a bug in my brain about an exercise regiment, and I think we need to take it a step further. Maybe forming a pact, complete with a sweaty man-handshake and everything.

We're both not happy with the state of our physical being and until we can either upgrade to new models or download to the Resurrection Ship, Gold's Gym will have to do.