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A toned, sexy core?

Posted by Mick on February 16, 2010 – 9:28 pm

When I got home from the gym tonight, I distinctly remember lamenting that I haven’t been watching nearly enough movies lately.  It’s a bit sad, but there’s only so many hours in the day, and I have things I need to accomplish.  Like writing this blog.  And going to the gym.

I dislike going to the gym.  I don’t mind it so much once I’m there and actually doing things, it’s the going I could do without.  Once again, something I think I would be happier doing in the privacy and comfort of my own home.  That’s a bit sad.  Sad but true.  There’s a part of me that’s a hermit.  Then again, it would be much easier to ignore if it was right here.  The gym is on the way home.  I have to bring special clothes, and shoes.  I have a bag for all my gear.  Once I’ve gone to all that trouble, and the gym is right there, it’s hard not to follow through.  I’m too lazy to carry a gym bag around if I’m not gonna use it.  These are the mind games I have to play to make myself do anything.

I am glad that I’m going to the gym.  It’s something I should have done two years ago.  I still hate the elliptical machine, or as I like to call it, the Satan’s Own Stairmaster.  I know it’s good for me, and I know I’m a little out of shape, but is there any reason it has to make me look even more uncoordinated than I naturally am?

Does anyone remember the Warner Brothers cartoon where a young buzzard was trying to catch Bugs Bunny?  The character was called Beaky Buzzard, but in this toon his mother, who for some reason had a heavy Italian accent, called him Keee-ler (which I took to be Killer but it’s funnier when you say Keeee-ler in your head).  Wikipedia describes him as having a perpetually goofy grin.  And brainless. Remember him?

Beaky Buzzard

When I get on the elliptical, I look like Beaky.

But it’s good that I’m going.  I need this.  If I tell myself these things, I tend to believe them more.  If I write them, I tend to remember them better.  Most days, dear reader, I’m talking to you.  But sometimes… sometimes I’m talking to myself.  Most of the time I can tell the difference.

In honor of not watching enough movies, we decided to watch a movie tonight.  Guess what we watched?  High Plains Drifter.  Again.  I love the movie, and I can’t pass it up if I see that it’s on.  This was time I could have used to watch a film I’ve never seen.  Part of me feels guilty for that.  There’s so much I need to catch up on, older things as well as newer things.  The list of films I feel guilty for not having seen is getting embarrassingly long.  And yet, I don’t regret it at all.  For my money, it’s the best film Eastwood ever directed.  I might watch it again.  I just might.

Come to think of it, I also watched Goodfellas again last week.  Well, I watched the first half.  I love the first half.  I’m not saying I don’t like the second half, but it loses me easily.  Once my attention wavers, I usually don’t make it back.

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