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The healthy writer

My wife and I have decided to re-commit to being healthy this year. We do this together, basically so we don't cop out and get lazy. Not that it works ALL the time -- but since we've started, we have stayed pretty accountable. What started this drive yet one more time, you ask? I first realized I had to be more serious about fitness and my health as my weight started to climb. Slowly, sure, but I topped 200lbs for the first time in my life. Sure, that doesn't sound like much, but I've been a skinny runt for most of my (mumble, mumble) years and this was kind of a wake-up call. Second, Joanna Penn came out with her book: The Healthy Writer.

I sit on my tush in front of a computer for my day job and as a writer, that means more tush cushions for me. So, there's a reason the weight has been piling on. I'm not getting any younger, and the metabolism is slowing. So, back to the gym I go.

We've been members of technically four gyms since we first joined a gym as a couple -- the first one (Bally's) we loved and went pretty consistently, but it closed. The second (LA Fitness) was a bit further away, but we still went for the most part. The third (Fitness Evolution) was great, only $20 a month for the two of us to go, but it was bought out by the now fourth gym, Planet Fitness. I do like it there -- maybe because of the Purple color scheme (I've always loved purple, go figure), but mostly due to the fact that it's close, easy to get around inside and I know what I'm doing now.

I got really into working out a few years back, but got disillusioned by the meatheads that are always around the gym -- you know the type:

"If you don't do what I do, you'll NEVER gain."

"I do what you can't."

"I'm doing this because you're weak and I'm not."

That sort of crap. Oh, it exists. I got so tired of it. I'm never going to get my sorry tush on a stage and flex for a competition. I'm never going to be the poster boy for any magazine. Nor am I ever going to be that kind of d**khead -- I'm just trying to be the healthiest me I can be.

The best part of working out is the clarity of mind it brings. I hate the sweat, the sore muscles and the pushing myself. I love the way I feel afterwards, though. It helps me clear the mental clutter. I feel more creative too.

I'm gearing up to finish my latest draft this weekend, writing gods be willing, and I'll need every ounce of creativity and drive to do it. It's been a slog, this one -- every word has felt as if I've had to pry it out with pliers. But finish it I will. And I'll be better off for it.

Hey, maybe I'll go for a run/walk to celebrate.

Until next time . . .


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