S2 E45-46: the winter arc
Alright so i know that this is a combination post AND dropping at night on a Wednesday. Long story short, I’ve been staring this task down like a 10 pointer in headlights…just no thoughts. All vibes. I guess the real difficult part is that i have nothing to talk about in 45. I went to work and went home, worked out and rolled, and continued to force feed as i forever chase an unfucked appetite and (well really, the whole digestive system) a stomach that can hold more than five bites. The struggle marches ever onward.
Hey I fixed a medication problem and now am not pestered by crippling bouts of anxiety so that’s nice. We’ve also officially locked in to the grind until February. The eating is coming along, fuckin today I have eaten an entire pound of ground beef and two potatoes. Fuck yeah.
Warped tour was my last hurrah of the year before dedicating myself to goal chasing before the end of the year. Before that, let’s dive into my Florida trip.
So god damned cool. For starters, i finally upheld my end of the bargain and visited my godson (albeit two years late). I got to it eventually…kinda like…this entry. Went to Disney world for the first time too, rode the guardians ride twice, v fun. The festival was fucking insane. Insane lineups both days, the venue itself was huge, and the amount of people was…impressive. I mean really, holy shit there were a lot of us washed up alt wieners. ADTR killed, yellowcard killed, i was unfamiliar with Motionless’ game but no longer. Add all of that, literally all of that, to catching some lifts with the longest running day one homie? Could not have paid for a better experience.
Here we go again. The “winter arc”. Lock in before the new year, all of that shit. Look, as hokie as it sounds I’m running out of excuses to not take my fitness as seriously as I took my recovery from substance use. I’m running out of reasons why i can’t eat 2300 calories with 200g of protein. I already lift religiously, and hitting a protein goal is bitchmade when you compare it to 22 months of sobriety. So yeah, no more distractions and no more excuses.
I’m not sure what happens to this blog in the future. I’m finding it progressively harder and harder to draft these checkins. I guess when you’re fucked up and broken, there’s a lot of material to write about on your recovery path…but what about now? 10% better everyday? Let go or be dragged? Do it scared? Nobody cares, work harder? My therapist told me today my problem isn’t unrecognized value or potential. I know my worth, my value, who and what I am. What I don’t do is enforce the healthy boundaries necessary to preserve my peace. But that’s gonna change.
It’s the same with the 20lbs of muscle I’m going to pack on. I don’t care how, I’m getting it done. I’ve fixed my sleep, medication, and fuckin appetite, and survived everything this rock has thrown at me, so why not. Whatever your mantra is, own that shit. Whatever is important to you needs to be said with every last ounce of chest.
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5a8SwDX6DQM8RG6jZv9bFV?si=d_KwhpLcSeWoW2tTOOzbDA
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