Irritable Male Syndrome

Tuesday, August 21, 2007

A few days ago I decided to do a lower body workout. Let me back up for a second and say that my exercise of choice is weight lifting. I don't lift weights to get huge muscley arms, nor do I lift to get stronger. I lift because it's the last activity I can do that burns away all the beer, and that I don't hate.

I detest distance running, as I have flat feet almost to the point that my arch is convex instead of concaved and my feet hurt for days after a few miles. Plus, I'm lanky and my form is less than optimal, which causes pain in places where pain isn't normally present. Like my taint. Odd, considering it's not a joint or muscle, and I Gold Bond the hell out of it before doing anything in the heat--then again, I'm no physiologist.

I own a pair of rollerblades that have rolled, at most, 1 mile, most of that mileage in my bedroom the day I bought them. After that day I come to find out that not only does rollerblading make you inherently gay, but I also lack the balance necessary to prevent said rollerblades from shooting out from under me and landing squarely on my coccyx.

I like biking, and I have a bike that's in working condition, but I still haven't figured out how to bike long distances without my ass hurting something fierce. So, I lift weights.

Normally I do upper body workouts, because I like being one of those guys that's freakishly top-heavy. Big arms, big chest, with the legs of Calista Flockhart. I'm fine with that. But every so often, I'll do a lower body workout because it's quicker than my normal workout and takes, at most, 20 minutes. The problem is that I stopped with this workout before the beginning of the soccer season.

Anyhow, Sunday I returned to this workout because I was feeling lazy and just wanted to be done quickly. It was a good plan, until my legs started stiffening up shortly after getting to work yesterday morning. And since I barely move in my desk all day long, they're tightening up real good this time 'round. Every time I get up to head to the bathroom, I have to stretch my quads and hamstrings. If I don't, not only is the act of walking painfully slow and cumbersome, but once every forth step or so, my legs will almost completely give out and it takes a more work than necessary to get them to respond to what I'd like them to do.

Today alone I've had 4 people ask me if I'm ok, because it looks like I've had a stroke.

But, I choose to look at the brightside. Though it hurts, and walking is a chore, the only thing I have to learn now is the speech slur, and then I can finally try out for Off-Off Broadway debut of The Facts of Life--A Very Special Episode, as Cousin Geri.

Just a quick blurb here; I'm finally amongst the technology alive in the group, having purchased a new HD LCD television this past Friday. It feels so good to finally live in the now.

I never knew what I was missing until I witnessed the joy that is watching 13 year old boys cry after losing in the Little League World Series--in high def. I can't get enough.


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