The last two days have been challenging. Low to no energy, low motivation, just feel like going slow, which is pretty much out of the norm for me. Yesterday was hot and I rode my bike to and from work. On the ride home I kind of dragged my ass, which I hardly ever do, and thought how it would be a perfect day for a shady porch, a rocking chair, and a mint julep. I don't think I've ever actually had a mint julep, but it sounded like just the thing. Today at work I just could not get started. It didn't help that my wife decided to embark on a major reorganizing project in our fabric area of the store. Organizing makes me tiiiirrrreeed. At the gym this evening I thought of about 100 places that I would have rather been at that moment, chief among them, at home in bed. So I slogged though most of my workout and drove home.
All of this is made even more frustrating by how good I felt on Friday. For no apparent reason, I just woke up feeling really great, and the feeling lasted thoughout the whole day. I was happy, energetic, felt present and in the moment, and pretty much enjoyed whatever it was I did the whole day long. I thought "gee, this is how I, as a human, should feel more often. This should be my baseline". Unfortunately, even with the PCP, this feeling is the exception rather than the rule. I don't know what the deal is, but I don't like it.
Last night, I hooked up with a friend of mine who I haven't seen in almost 10 years. We had a really nasty falling out at that time, and I pretty much vowed that I would never speak to him again. However, time heals all wounds, or whatever, and I ended up discovering (through Facebook, of all things) that he was living in Portland, so I got a mind to consider reconnecting with him. After a few hesitant emails, we agreed to meet up, and we ended up hanging out for 3 hours, just like old times. It was great.
The main reason I bring it up here is that he spent 5 of the last 9 years in the military as an Intelligence operative. When I knew him 10 years ago, he was about 5'7", 120 lbs. A scrawny little shit. He told me that when he was in the military, at his heaviest, he got up to 185 lbs! He said "you would have never believed it, I was actually buff!" However, he also said that he was extremely depressed for most of the time that he was in the service, so in addition to gaining a lot of muscle, he also gained a lot of fat. He said that in the 4 years since he's been out, he hasn't exercised once. Says he hated it, and will be happy to never do another push up for the rest of his life. He has since shrunk down to closer to what I remembered him as 10 years ago (albeit a little bulkier). The point is that he had absolutely no interest in maintaining the muscle that he gained while in the Army.
Now, as someone who is actively trying to gain muscle, get stronger, and look better, this struck me as rather odd. I wonder how much of his experience with working out and being strong is inextricably tied to his experience of being in the Army, which was quite negative, for the most part. I am making the choice to become stronger and look better by working out, whereas he was sort of forced into it. It doesn't sound like he ever owned it, but rather always struggled against it. I guess it's all in how you frame it, isn't it?
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Yes, being forced to exercise is the farthest thing from sustainability I can imagine. For many years after, people who have gone through that kind of experience view the act of not exercising as a mark of independence and self-hood. I've met a lot of people like this and their stories mirror your old friend's.
ReplyDeleteInteresting stuff. Keep going man, even if it's at a slower pace.