People are upset with me.  Upset that I am angry at them.  Upset that they can’t calm my temper.  Upset that I won’t do what they want.

All of this comes back to money.  Money I wasted.  Money I’ll never see again.  I hate money.  I don’t care about material things.  As long as I have legs to carry me, all is right with the world.

Alf offered me a lift out to Boston.  He was headed that way, what difference would it make?  Oh, by the way, can I borrow your brand new mountain bike? Read more

I pushed through my chest/triceps/shoulders routine on Thursday.  I got stuck waiting for someone, and got started much later than I would have liked.  I won’t do that again.  I am tired of waiting for other people for things.

Fucking inconsiderate.

I got to Boston Thursday night.  8 hours after I had planned to be there.  Again delayed by waiting for someone else to be ready.  8 fucking hours.

I am making alternate travel plans to get home.

Went for a run with Shogun Friday morning.  Took Saturday off.  Exercise was limited to random sets of chin-ups on the bar in his hallway.

I did not eat nearly enough today.  As I write this I am feeling lean and exhausted.  Veins protrude on every extremity.  Hands, feet, forearms, calves.

I woke earlier than I wanted.  Again.  The dog next door.  Shuffled out of bed at 6:30 AM, made a big bowl of oatmeal and headed for the couch.  My training partner (the other training partner; it takes two to keep up) would not be up until 8:00 AM.

A comedy of errors precluded him from picking me up for the gym until almost 4 hours later.  I filled the void with food and Grand Theft Auto IV.  We got rolling after 11:00 AM.  I didn’t see home again until almost 7:00 PM.  After an epically long Pull/Extension routine (Back/Biceps/Deadlifts) that lasted 12 movements and 60 sets, I sat in a sweltering truck in 90+ degree heat.

By the time we made it to the racket ball court, I was ready to chew my own leg off.

I was athletic and terrible.  Lunging, jump, diving . . . looking like a true sportsman.  My endurance was fine, but as I poured sweat and fogged my safety glasses I kept opening my racket face and blasting the ball into the ceiling with my backhands.  It fell short, hitting the floor in front of the wall.  I spent most of my time getting served on.

Eventually I found a rhythm, positioned myself properly, and would volley back and forth like I knew what I was doing.  Then he would get a lucky corner shot and I would stop a for-the-fences swing just short of hitting a wall as the ball hummed along millimeters away from it.  We only managed an hour on the court, with me sweating for the last fifteen minutes and begging for “just one more serve”.

I will be a shoddy professional in two months time.  Mark my words.

I feel like someone is standing on my chest.

Most of my life I have had people tell me I was a good boy.  I never believed them.  What they could never see – what I try to repress – is the anger and hatred just beneath my surface.

People have told me that emotional burdens are self-inflicted.  Just put the burden down . . . Read more

I biked over to the corporate gym I used to be a member at.  Temperatures were well in the 80’s already.  Three miles over city streets.  With the stoplights and traffic, it took nearly half an hour.

Today was Leg day.  Light on the weight, since this is the end of a protocol.

5 sets of everything. Read more

Height: 5′10″

Weight: 185

I slept well last night.  Sober.  Took melatonin fairly early and relaxed.  Low dose – 300 mcg – but still felt groggy this morning.  Unusual for such a small amount.

After some consideration, I decided to bike over to the Studio.  I hesitate to waste money on a gym that will not serve all my needs.  Six miles is not far, but the hills are a pace-breaker.  I got there feeling loose.  I stretched and pushed through my session. Read more

I have decided to keep a journal to document my training.  Having accountability will help keep me focused.  Measured progress is the only progress. Read more

Weird dreams last night.  A bizarre stew of people, all churning around in my life.  I walk up to someone, try to talk to them.  They can’t hear me.  Or won’t listen.

I can’t see their eyes.

Things go dark and I’m wandering down a lonely road at night.  There are no headlights to guide me.  The sky glows faintly, blue grey, somewhere up ahead.  The trees all around me whisper in the breeze.

I feel completely disconnected.

I know that I have a destination, but I don’t know what or who I will find there.  I don’t know what is expected of me.  Wandering in the dark, I feel no pain.  Only the chill air.  No aching feet, no breaking back.  I keep moving forward.  I feel tired.

Then the road ends.  Winds around into the trees and stops.

I am overcome with feelings of confusion and frustration.  Even betrayal.  Go Forward was the only thing I ever knew.  I couldn’t see where I was going, but I knew I would get there if I kept moving my feet.  I feel betrayed.

Fear is replaced by anger.

I wanted to rush off the path.  I wanted to burn everything.

I woke up.

10 PM on a Friday and I’m sitting on my bed, staring at my computer.  When I woke up this morning, I had to climb over a mountain of contractor bags and boxes to get out of my bedroom.  Four hours later, I had a floor again.

I am enjoying the simple pleasure of newfound organization.

There are still socks to be folded.  I have a box of paperwork to sift through.  Insurance forms.  Bank statements.  Letters from basic training.  All minor details.  On the balance my life is back in order. Read more

I apologize for the lack of productivity.  I am in the process of gearing up for my final two months as a civilian.  I have a lot of training to do, and a lot of preparations to make over the next few days.

Operation Ironclad begins in earnest 0600 24May.

Things will be back to normal by Friday.  In the meantime, ENJOY . . .