Or else

It's funny, albeit not in a humorous sense.
A month ago, I thought nothing of jogging a mile or two.
Well, I thought it wasn't really such a big deal.
Doable, anyway.

Now, I'm cursing that arrogant twerp that was Merry-from-February. What on earth was she thinking? I feel as if gravity has increased within the radius of my immediate surroundings, binding me to the earth. My legs feel like they've been filled with lead rather than muscle. The streets look unfriendly, the sidewalks unfamiliar. I can't run. I can't jog. I am sedentary. I am a rock, an island, a Paul Simon lyric.

On the other hand, maybe I should stop taking myself so seriously.

I do realize that once I get a couple days of sleep and healthy food, I'll start thinking the exercise and I can exist in the same room.

Probably.

In either case, I will start doing strenuous exercise. Just not today.

Today, I'm going to -- for the 4th time this month (i.e. in the last 9 days) -- do a final give-it-all-you-got-skip-meals-and-exercise-just-write-the-damn-manual push.

Tomorrow is a different story. Or if it ain't, there will be pain. Not mine.

Exercise du jour: After work, there will be walking. Even if "after work" means 9 or 10 at night. I Have Spoken.

Update du 3:05 am: Okay, I was being optimistic in my definition of 'after work.' I'm still trying to finish up that blighted manual. The exercise du jour will have to be moved forward to today. Later. After I finish up and get some sleep.

Yes, I think the workload will ease up now. But I've thought that before. We shall see.