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4:45 p.m. - 2001-09-30
Gravity is off the hook!
Hot damn! Today was one of those days that people imagine when they're dreaming of California in the dead of winter somewhere. Truthfully, it was one of the days that San Franciscans dream about in the middle of our foggy ass summer.

It was gorgeous,y'all. Sunny and hot. Jane and I live one block from the beach so we trekked down the block with our neighbor and sat our asses down in the sunbaked sand. The water was freezing, but Janey had "balls enough" as my friend put it, to brave the icy current, and actually went in up to her waist. As far as I'm concerned, I think it is her literal lack of balls that allowed her to soak her lower half in the fridgid Pacific. My testes, when threatened by a spring breeze, are more than willing to climb up into my asophagus, displacing spleen, liver and any other organ in their path in a selfish attempt to stay warm. They ain't havin' it.

Little kids, kites, surfers and dogs, everything to make a summer day at the beach was present and accounted for. My friends showed up later and we tossed a ball around, made sand castles (Janeys was an X-rated tortise scene. No more Discovery Channel for that girl, it's warping her mind.) and shot the shit.

One of my friends brought his little brother. His bro wanted me to give him some workout tips. I exercise more than the average guy, but I took a good six week hiatus from my lifting program and I do not feel like I'm in the best shape of my life by a long shot. Guys at the gym have commented that I've "shrunk up" alot, even Jane says I'm getting skinny. For some reason though, it bothers me more when someone comments that I look good, or that they want to "get like me", these comments make me feel more defensive about falling off my program than when someone teases me or notices the regression in my physique. My first instinct when I'm given a compliment is wanting to say, "you should have seen me a few months ago." I don't really get it. My ego is one warped fucker.

Whatever.

I don't really care so much about being the muscle man so much any more. I would like to get all swoll up again one more time, but the drive is not as strong as when I was younger. It is fun to walk around looking like Prince Adam before he turns into He-man, and then strip down to your fur drawers and look like regular old He-man, but I will always have the memories of those days. Maybe it's time to hang up the fur drawers all together and be content to just have the body of a CK underwear model.

Lifting weights was always a great hobby for me. It had only benifits, no down side. It gave me confidence,proved to me that I can reach my goals if I stick with something, gave me the health benifits of excersise, made me stronger for work and made me more atractive to the opposite sex. It actually made me more attractive to my own sex too, but nevermind that.

The most important thing it has done for me though, is even out my mental state. I suffer from depression. It runs in my familly and I have had a particularly tough time of it. Weightlifting was better than any medication I ever took. I would go to the gym in a horrible mood, but unvariably left the gym in a calm and even state of mind.

Running didn't work for me. Martial arts either. Only lifting weights.

My theory is that the level of intense concentration on one simple movement creates an almost meditative state. Your whole purpose for those few seconds, is just to move the weight. That's it. Running allows too much time for your brain to soar, martial arts require precision and can be frustrating if you make mistakes. Both of these activities have their benifits, but they don't give you that one element that simplicity and focus combined seem to produce.

Weights leave you no free mental space for your brain to wander, and they have no grey area of success or failure- you can either lift it or you can't.

I don't think I need the sport like I once did, my outlook on life has changed considerably and I feel like I have stepped away from the edge of the chasm of clinical depression, but when I was negotiating those depths, almost hopeless, there is no question that it served me well as a floatation device.

So thanks gravity! Not just for keepin' the ol' earth from spinning us animals off into the depths of space. Not just for making it possible for me to torment my younger sibblings with various forms of water delivery from above. Not just for making the concept of anti-gravity so cool and interesting to ponder. Thanks for making weights heavy, and thereby saving me from the clutches of depression. Yer a gem of law.

 

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