Dear Diary,
Today I sent off a job application, did some training, did some job searching and I started doing a bit of writing. I feel that the more I write, the more I immediately need to refine. I guess the first pressing never gets the grade. I just need to get it out, then work on it. It's a bit cliche, a bit 'Brian Griffin' to try and write a story. Why am I doing this? Because just for me, I feel its a story that I want to write. Hell, I'm the protagonist and antagonist!
I have just came, the room smells a bit of jizz, and I feel a little woozy. There is nothing unique about that fact I grant although now I'm thinking to myself about how proud I am of my training session today. I started off with an hour on the cross trainer and somehow, for some unknown factor, I was able to really push my balls harder at the x-trainer and managed 1131 kCal in an hour, I then put in a bit of time for floor excercises, but not much. I got complimented on my technique by an older guy when I was doing the 'superman' excercise. It was pretty odd, the man then did some pull ups. I can't do pullups to save my life, so I am pretty flattered by a toothless bodybuilder complimenting me. I shook that pride off and then did 10k on the rowing machine. My energy levels were high, they went up and down as they always do, but they stayed at a nice consistent pace. I was probably mouthing the lyrics to my favourite songs in a borderline psychotic appearance but I didn't care, it was about the target.
Sometimes I can be single minded, and when I'm at the gym, I utilise that mindset entirely, it becomes about the goal and nothing more, any thoughts about anything else are wasteful, or distractions. Sometimes I think to myself 'since I'm just going to be doing this repetition for an hour, I might as well think about x'. I felt this sense of hate grow in me, the hate in my mind was feeding me, fuelling me, keeping me warm. Going home I felt that hatred simmering and going cold again, but I knew it was there. This utter contempt and arrogant smile. It is mia.
In a sense I'm glad I find mia in the training sessions. Her mindset helps me focus, helps me turn the world into black and white, and sometimes, that's what I need in order to push forward. It doesn't help with most other aspects of life, clocking in and doing the repetitions is a matter of just getting it done. I am hopeful if I continue this excercise program for the foreseeable few weeks. I may lose weight in an accellerated way only comparable to my experience with mia. As I pulled on that rowing chain, I felt this realisation, it was a sense of feeling beautiful again. Antonia used to call me 'beautiful boy', and it made me feel so special.
I was also reminded of Apollo Creed in Rocky III. That's an odd reference, but it is a gym and there are buff guys in shorts working out. In Rocky III, Rocky loses perspective in his boxing career and disovers that after achieving the one thing he wanted for so long, he has become complacent, and has lost what Apollo calls the 'eye of the tiger', the psychological edge of wanting to go as far as you can in order to win. There is a scene where Apollo is in this underground dank excuse for a gym, where this big group of black guys were training and they look at Rocky with as if they are looking through him, they have this thousand-yard stare and a fixed gaze where only one thing was on their mind: victory. Apollo then says 'do you see that? that's the eye of the tiger!'
In a sense I feel less of a complacency compared to my friends because they have decent jobs and girlfriends and I don't, because they do, they are content. I feel a fire and sense of desire and fury inside me. It feels authentic, it feels true. Perhaps the challenge of complacency will come if I ever achieve it. For now, I want to foster this fury, I want to foster this sense of drive. I understand that there will be some days when it goes away. Some days are low days.
My intake was about 2000kcal today, my output was about the same. Tomorrow's weigh in is something to get out of bed for. For a very long time (and I'm not going to count my chickens about my next morning), I've not found a reason to jump out of bed,most of the days getting out of the bed is like doing one more set when I've done way too many already. That 'one more set' feeling when I am just too tired is unbearably hard. I am reminded of how stallone's films are often described: all heart. If you put in all heart you get a sense of satisfaction unrivalled. I need to put in more heart.
I hope tomorrow brings me more achievements.
Good night
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