same old story

Driving through Philo yesterday and I saw a young woman out for her daily run.  In 30 degree weather.  In the middle of that lovely Central Illinois combination of rain, snow and sleet that we sometimes get when Mother Nature's being indecisive. 

My initial feeling of admiration was soon replaced by something else.  Something uglier.  Envy.  Why, I wondered, can she find the motivation to get out and go on such a crappy day when I struggle to do ANYTHING health related? 

I think we all need to find that trigger.  My cousin Chops found it to the tune of an amazing yearlong transformation. She's a day or two older than me, but is cut and ripped, and I am very proud of the commitment she's shown.  My nephew, Jeremy?  Same thing.  90 lbs, gone since last summer.  He looks great, feels great and I couldn't be happier for him.  And then there's me, same as always. 

I did give up, but I will start over, so I guess maybe there's some sort of honor in that persistence, anyway. 

let no man put asunder

So did you hear the one about the guy whose pants split at the crotch right before his big presentation in front of the MCB advisors?   Channeling his inner mcguyver, he first tried to use his office stapler to stitch the seams, a plan that seemed to be inspired genius until the staples started to come loose, thus giving the wearer of said pants the sensation of having 1000 fire ants in his fruits of the loom.  In desperation, and having not a shred of dignity remaining, he went to the brains of his organization, the fabulous front office staff, for assistance.  There was hatched a plan so brilliant that it was sure to succeed.  DUCT TAPE!  That's correct, a strategically placed piece of the silvery miracle product saved the day!  The guy gave his speech to a rapt audience, finding some new peers in his work as a nursing recruiter, and all was well.

No.  Me either. 

In fitness news, Fatty is in free fall, and I have nothing positive to report.  I will try to climb back on the horse for the millionth time. 

Trial separation

 J-MO, one of my good buddies, has suggested that I'm not really divorced from Illinois sports, but rather going through a trial separation, and he could be right, because I do check up on them pretty frequently.   However, as with all breakups, the good things, if any, that your soon-to-be ex brings to the table are no longer made readily available to you when you split.

I am, therefore, forced to admit that like that special casserole that a former flame makes every week, I didn't get to taste and savor the Illini's epic comeback and last second win over the hated #1 ranked Hoosiers from Indiana last night.  Oddly enough, I'm ok with that.  I guess maybe the years of disappointment can't be easily erased by a crazy one night stand.  I'll continue to monitor them from afar for a while...not too high, but more importantly not too low. 

In Fatty fitness news, I'm down 1.5 pounds since Monday's weigh in, which is as I've said before roughly the equivalent of a flea jumping off the ass of Jumbo the Circus Elephant.