Mighty Morphin Power Sam
I miss doing the daily updates, so I can talk about how stupid O.J. and how we just follow along with his antics like a rabid Snoopy in "Peanuts" or the latest on Britney Spears. Then again, I think I've been spared from all of the crap from whomever the the patron saint of blogs is. Still, I hate to be the subject of the recent posts these days. It seems like a kind of an ego stroke to me, but as some famous writer once said (Perry White? Oscar Madison?) "write what you know". On now to this week's thrilling chapter.
I think this whole road to self improvement is coming along well this week. I've heard words of encouragement from many folks out there, which I think is fantastic amd hope it doesn't stop from there. I do plan on doing my part as there are loads of folks I haven't talked to in a while, so a "pay it forward" sort of thing is due to many of the people who stopped and left a note.
As for the weight problem, I've been working out now at three to four times a week and I can already see improvements on that. The thing that freaks me about working out is that I start to feel like I'm about to go through some sort of transformation, which I know is suppose to happen. However, the transformation is that of The Incredible Hulk. I know this sounds stupid, but here me out on this. On my father's side, I come from a family of muscle bound men. 100% natural, all solid men with no by products, that's how they were until it stopped with me. As soon as I discovered beer and smokes at the age of eighteen however, that lineage was over with. I mean, really. Y'all should have been there for it, Jheri Curls and all. The bad part of all of the partying was that I would soon gain loads and look like Al Roker. Now, with working out as much as I have been the past few weeks, my muscle tones are starting to show up around my shoulders and I'm starting to feel like I should be walking on my knuckles the way my arms hang now. Still, I promise that I won't start flexing around folks when this said and done and there will be no topless photos of me when I hit my goal. Sorry to anyone who actually wanted to see me in that state of undress, but I'm not putting me or anyone through that. But, if you are that person, you must be smoking corn husks or something.
On the days that I'm not working out or going to dialysis, I'll be returning to with three classes this go around. I hope to do well this time by not having any strokes for the first part and making sure that car works as well. Looking back at the start of this year, it's hard to believe that I've been a college student and how far I've gotten since January and that in less than 9 months, I now have a 3.0 G.P.A. which still blows my mind just writing about it. Remember, I turned into Bluto Blutarsy once I hit eighteen, so at forty-one all of this is just an amazing feat to me. By the way, still no algebra in the mix this time, so I think I'm spared once again until it's time.
In the long run, this whole makeover is a joy and scary at the same time but it is something that is long overdue. This is a completely new road I'm going down that there for me to cross years ago, but I'm just heading down that way now. If I can just get over al the potholes and bad traffic along the way, I should have a smooth ride for a good long time.
I hate cliches' by the way, but could think of no other way to finish this entry. I told you I hate writing about me...