Staring at the Floor, 11, 000 calories, & What's Next

About every two years I find one of those people I want to talk with all night. While that never quite happens anymore, I can still make it to 2 am, but even then, I'm aware that we don't quite understand each other. So while I resent your inability to understand me in an hour, I admit I don't understand you either.

What I suspect, though, is that you think I don't like you when I stare at the floor and talk to the wall.

None of it.

Attempting a true 1RM squat is fraught with danger: tendons snap, bones break much quicker than a spotter can jump in, vertebrae fly across the room, and testicles roll across the floor. None of which I can think about now. So in the final weeks of training leading into a meet, I may be either thinking or not thinking, both of which from the outside look like staring at the floor and talking to the wall.

Yesterday I was not thinking, which is the preferred place to be. I like you just fine, but I'm not going to mind-fuck myself by making eye contact with you and picking up any foreign thought. I'm riding an anti-thought wave of non-failure, and I need to be able to access that at the meet.

We can talk about it later. What I regret is that I can't take you there with me, but I do hope to see you there one day.



And no matter how little I talk, it's too much. I was in the cubes yesterday listening to the P90X, $60 caffeine and appetite suppressant pills, chronic cardio talk, and I couldn't quite leave it alone so I sent out the following e-mail to my fat-loss competitors:


"You guys realize I got to 17.5 percent [body fat] by drinking a pint of heavy whipping cream a day. I'm running an 11k caloric deficit a week now."


And I thought the easy way to fat loss is to become active enough to get only slightly fat taking in 1,600 calories a day in liquid and then simply stop drinking all those calories.

Too easy, in fact.

So I wondered if I could compete in November at 165 pounds. I'm sure I can't weigh 165 because when I had the running addiction and had significantly less muscle than now, I got stuck at 167. I think I can, however, go down to 172 and sweat and piss out 7 pounds for an early weigh-in.

I'm going to try it. It will keep me focused and give me something to do until I meet someone who can keep me up until 2:30.