Mass Effect

            Damn, I miss running. I haven't got to go for a run since December 4^th. For those of you playing at home that's a month as I write this. And, as you might imagine, there are some pretty shitty circumstances that forced me to not do one of my favorite activities.  

            See, as a longtime stubborn runner I had been running on a stress fracture in my left foot for, gee no joke about 4 years. The pain kept getting progressively worse, and like a fool I continued to run on it, without doing much to address it. Ahh, who am I kidding, I did nothing to address it! Because, the pain was secondary to my need to run. My need to be out there on the path, the sidewalk, the treadmill. 

            As a result of my own neglect, I went out to run on December 4^th and the pain was so excruciating when I initially stepped off on my left foot that I was limping. However, me being me (stubborn bastard) I still tried to run in defiance of the agony. I made it about ¾ of a mile before I could no longer land on my left foot without the pain stopping me in my tracks every other step. I crept back to the house, in my mind defeated, in pain and already feeling depressed because I knew finally my neglect meant I would not be running for awhile. I had ignored my body and the warning signs it had been trying to communicate.

            Since then I have tried to switch over to a high protein diet and adopt a more weight-lifting focused exercise regimen. However, this process was somewhat interrupted due to a two week long road trip, and the Christmas holiday. Have you ever tried to eat healthy when your daily calorie intake is coming from Love’s and Pilot truck stops? It’s not impossible, but it certainly is a challenge. Further, have you ever tried to not eat all that deliciously desirable high calorie food on or around Christmas? Again, not impossible, but indulgences are bound to occur here and there. Since 1/1/2018, I have recommitted myself to my healthy eating and workout regimen. As of that date, I weighed in at 195.6 lbs and a 39 inch waist. This is particularly concerning to me as it is the heaviest I have been since losing about 90 lbs the year I graduated high school (253 to 163 approximately).

            Present day, I sit here banging away on this keyboard, desperately wanting to work out, but I’m again a victim of my own ignorance. I woke up this morning with a back so stiff and pain-ridden that it took me 10 minutes to get myself out of bed.  It seems the L3 and L4 vertebrae in my back don’t like moving furniture alone, I guess they miss the cartilage that used to help them get along better. Yes, I am a fool, as moving furniture is something I also did over the Christmas break. Then in spite of that, I continued my weight lifting regimen even though my back was already tweaked as a result. Alas, no workout today, my spine has spoken. In case you’re wondering, I feel guilty about that, even though I have worked out every day this week and stuck to my diet without incident.

            Now I find those devious thoughts creeping up in my mind: Have a burger, you’ll feel better! You’re not working out today why don’t you relax a little and have a beer- after all you can’t work out, and it’ll dull the pain in your back!

            So what is the point of all this? Well, clearly it’s a self-serving pity fest designed to let me bitch and moan about my own circumstances.

            But it is also something more than that…it’s my not giving in. I haven’t caved, or sacrificed myself to temptation and self-loathing. I won’t be sneaking through the McDonald’s drive thru and greedily smear grease-covered French fries into my waiting maw.  I will not beat myself up for missing a workout. I won’t justify a beer, or a Jack and Coke. I will sit here, I will heal and I will be back at it tomorrow with the same focus that I have had all week.

            And for those of you that as of January 4^th find yourself in a similar predicament regarding your New Year’s resolution to get fit, feel free to recite the above paragraph if you need motivation to keep up the momentum.

            I wish all of you readers out there good luck in your goals for 2018, whatever they may be!

The Less Ordinary Life of Harold: Super-Zero

An oblivious young man with his nose glued to a cell phone absently strolls through the park. Passerbys are forced to navigate out of his way. Joggers, senior citizens on walks, and mothers with strollers all side step him at the last minute, clinging to the belief that he couldn’t really be that enthralled by whatever’s on the screen.

This is Harold. Harold, by most accounts has had a shit day.

Sitting down, not because it's the courteous thing to do, but because he wants to, the preteen plops onto a nearby bench. Harold is husky and he seems all-too conscious of this, so as he gets seated comfortably he tugs down his shirt, to make sure no one can see anything they shouldn’t through the green slats that serve as the bench’s backrest.

A few minutes pass and another child sidles up, sitting beside him.
For more than a while, no words are exchanged between the two.

Eventually, the new boy, thin but equally meek-looking breaks the silence, “Sorry-”

“Let me save my game!” Harold holds up a finger. “I am playing versus on Battleblood, and am ranked in the top five for this skirmish.”

The thin child adjusts his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose, realizing even he had little idea what most of that meant.

A few presses and swipes, “Ok, what?” Harold still doesn’t look up from his phone, not entirely, it makes the fat underneath his neck stand out even more.

“I’m sorry for what happened today.”

“Ya, you been hangin’ out with those kids?”

The thin boy nodded, blushing almost imperceptibly.

“They suck Tyler. And...and they are stupid.”

Acknowledging the statement, the Tyler nodded again. He not only agreed, but there was no hesitation in him doing so.

“Asshats,” Harold, “that’s what they are.”

Tyler, confused, “What does that even mean anyway?”

“I dunno,” Harold admits, “I picked it up somewhere, but its bad, real bad.”

“Hey, they aren’t that bad. I, we could always use more friends right?”

“Not those guys.” Harold seemed resolute.

“Maybe I could talk to ‘em, put in a good word for ya?”

Harold looked up from his phone completely.

Tyler leaned in closer, “Tell ‘em your a cool guy, tell ‘em how you have all the newest video games.”

Harold’s brief interest already faded, changed to a spark of anger. “You mean bribe them to not pick on me? Thanks Tyler, but no thanks.”

“C’mon, Harold, I still want to be friends with you...and them.”

“I don’t think it works that way.”

Tyler looked at Harold, in a way that many adults would think a child was not capable of doing. He saw a fat kid, with a red ball-cap, but redder cheeks, dressed in clothes assembled from discount retail stores. He contrasted this against the group of guys he and Harold were conversing about. “Ya, I guess you’re right. Fuck.”

Harold had never heard a kid his age say the “F” word. He had never heard Tyler swear at all. Both boys shook their heads.

“What do we do?” Tyler asked.

“Doesn’t matter- whatever you want.” Harold said, “I got things to take care of anyway.”

“Like what?” the surprise in Tyler’s question was heavy.

“Hero stuff.”

“Psshh, what are you talkin’ about?”

“I’m a superhero. I didn’t want to tell you, because I thought it might be the only reason you were my friend.”

Tyler paused for a moment, trying to gauge if Harold was trying on being crazy, or trying on being funny. When he couldn’t decide, Tyler broke out in heavy laughter. “More like Super-zero!”

Harold took the laughter and the insult from a kid who he had thought of as his best friend for 3 summers and four grades. He took it like Superman takes bullets.

Tyler looked at Harold and couldn’t believe his eyes. Suddenly, before him, the chubby kid that lived 5 houses down the street was gone.

There in front of him was an image; misty, blurry in the way that the blacktop gets from a distance on a summer day. Harold was now a wavering image of strength. His head held back high, his clothes became the bold uniform of a dealer of justice. His red hat was now a crimson mask. His untucked shirttail transformed into a cape. The discount athletic shoes had become leather boots, complemented with tiny H’s embroidered on their sides Harold’s eyes had changed the most, they seemed to dig into him, they were piercing, full of confidence and know-how.

Tyler could’ve sworn he saw a telling I-told-you-so kind of wink, but he wasn’t sure of that at all. In fact, he was no longer sure of anything.

Then right there before Tyler’s eyes, Harold took off with a bang into the air, it was like lightning combined with thunder. In an instant he was gone.

Off to do hero stuff.

Window Shopping Part 3

The beast was heading towards me at a gallop, teeth on display, tongue drawn, ears alert. Its eyes were both wide and wild, holding a hint of that orange shine that was fading with the rising sun.

As the wolf began cutting the distance between it and I, somehow found the courage to do something. I waved my arms, and then began to shout and bellow in an effort to scare it off.

Yes, I’m sure it looked ridiculous, but don’t laugh, please.

At any rate, this didn’t slow the creature at all. It still keep coming, legs splaying out behind it with a lunatic gait. It cut the distance between us and the closer it got, the more my display of superiority faltered and then finally stopped. Here I was, in a strange realm that I never should’ve ventured into in the first place, and I was never going to see home again. I would die here.

The wolf was close enough that I could now hear its ragged breathing as it came for me. I averted my eyes, not wanting to see the fatal bite coming. I imagined the wolf extending its back legs, and leaping from the ground, its jaw extending to welcome my flesh to its mouth. I cringed with dread, nearly curling up into the fetal position right there in the leftover wheat.

Then the wolf pounced, knocking me to the ground.

I expected to feel the tearing of teeth against my bare flesh, the pressure of the beast’s jaws clamping down, and the pain.

Instead, I felt a tongue lapping over my cheek. After my mind was able to process that I wasn’t being ripped apart, I had the courage to open my eyes. What I saw was no merciless killer, The wolf-if that’s in fact what it was, was on top of me, licking my face and wagging his tail.

I was so relieved not to be dead or dying it took me a moment to realize the wolf, wasn’t really a wolf at all; it was a dog.

“Down boy,” I said with hope in my voice, and to my astonishment the dog listened. I surveyed the beast that was; it wasn’t as haggard, or desperate as I had first thought. In fact, it was calm, fur well maintained and really friendly, lucky for me. “Can I be sure you’re not going to eat me?” The dog coated my face again with its enormous tongue. “Ok, that’s an argument against.” I gently stroked the dog’s fur. “Geesh, I wish I had some water or even some food to give you...but maybe we can find that together?”

I saw my reflection in the dog’s eyes. It had become one of hope.

“Alright boy, let’s find us some civilization, or something. Maybe at least some bacon. Mmm that sounds kind of good,” I had told the pooch. I guess that wasn’t too much to hope for at least?

Ahem, well my new friend and I began trudging over the terrain yet again, at first I wasn’t sure he’d follow, but surprising me once more, the dog began leading me! I did what came natural, I followed. Every few moments the dog looking back to ensure I was still tagging along.

More footsteps behind more paw prints led to more travel. Although the sun was at full attention, having warmed me enough to be comfortable, if not content, I still wondered when I’d get to taste some type of water, as my throat was now beyond parched.

As you might’ve guessed, that’s about when I stumbled on your little cabin here.

That my friend is how we got here...Now what’s next?

*

I had told my story, what little there was to tell, and as I finished I looked down at my canine companion expecting him to bark in some declarative way that emphasized its truth as if on cue. Of course that didn’t happen. In fact nothing really happened, the man that I had been talking to only stared blankly back across the table from me. His face only hinted at one thought; that there was no fucking way I could be telling the truth.


TO BE CONTINUED!