Benchmark
A new recovering benchmark:Bench Press: 285lbs.
Body Weight: 249lbs.
I benched four reps at two-hundred eighty five pounds. That was my first benchmark too, from three years ago. For you movie buffs, 285 pounds is what Sean MaGuire played by Robin Williams could bench press in 1997’s Good Will Hunting.
As I passed by a row of cars I approached a toddler swathed in pink, standing safely on the sidewalk. She smiled up at me, recognizing me before I recognized her big brown eyes: Charlotte, Bea and Michael’s youngest daughter. Knowing I was a friend, Charlotte called out "Mama" to summon Bea from her wrestling match against a car seat deep within their minivan. We enjoyed a brief chat despite a brisk, biting wind. Michael had just earned his black belt after many years of training, good news indeed.
I’m glad Charlotte likes me. She’s very expressive about whom she does and does not like. Michael is Sue’s son. I’ve known them since 1975.
One advantage of living in this community is I know somebody most places I go. I’ve travelled abroad, and I’ll travel again. In fact I know I cannot stay here. I'm just home for now. At least one of my homes...
My deceased Father’s family still lives in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. My step-sister Susie (mentioned here) was on the news (here), commenting on a thief who used his baby for cover, then ditched the infant to escape. Susie is the petite woman who said "It’s one thing to steal...whatever...but the poor child." People, especially babies, aren’t as important as stuff.
I often feel awkward around my step-family. They’re not perfect, but they are decent. They’ve not betrayed me as my own family has. They’ve always made me feel welcome. I remember Susie as a quiet little girl who one summer’s day at our family camp decided to cannonball me from her raft as I floated by in a rubber dingy. She clambered aboard, and chattered away brightly for half-an-hour.
I miss my step-family, I just don’t feel right around them. I think it’s the weight of self-loathing I carry.
Self-loathing is a useful aegis. Ad hominems from the incompetent are moot, dooming typical Middle-class manipulation tactics. You think I’m an asshole, but I think you’re an amateur. That must get frustrating fast. I’m the bad guy, so what? That still doesn’t prove the existence of an imaginary god, the practicality of an ideology, or prompt any of the nonsensical lies so passionately believed into sudden truth overtime. Reality isn’t a game. One cannot make something real by just believing a little bit harder.
Self-loathing may promote insensitivity. Has that not proved necessary too? I am the disgruntled product of your successful campaign of disenfranchisement, for which I offer my heartiest congratulations. Well played indeed. Even I am sensitive enough to recognize you’ve already made your decision. I can detect your pride in your inability to change your own mind.
Freedom doesn’t mean having choices or having things your way: freedom means having nothing left to loose.
E Pluribus Unum
In God We Trust
One Nation Under God
Next?
Previously: Speed Bag Meditation.
Next: Benchmark.
Body Weight: 249lbs.
I benched four reps at two-hundred eighty five pounds. That was my first benchmark too, from three years ago. For you movie buffs, 285 pounds is what Sean MaGuire played by Robin Williams could bench press in 1997’s Good Will Hunting.
As I passed by a row of cars I approached a toddler swathed in pink, standing safely on the sidewalk. She smiled up at me, recognizing me before I recognized her big brown eyes: Charlotte, Bea and Michael’s youngest daughter. Knowing I was a friend, Charlotte called out "Mama" to summon Bea from her wrestling match against a car seat deep within their minivan. We enjoyed a brief chat despite a brisk, biting wind. Michael had just earned his black belt after many years of training, good news indeed.
I’m glad Charlotte likes me. She’s very expressive about whom she does and does not like. Michael is Sue’s son. I’ve known them since 1975.
One advantage of living in this community is I know somebody most places I go. I’ve travelled abroad, and I’ll travel again. In fact I know I cannot stay here. I'm just home for now. At least one of my homes...
My deceased Father’s family still lives in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. My step-sister Susie (mentioned here) was on the news (here), commenting on a thief who used his baby for cover, then ditched the infant to escape. Susie is the petite woman who said "It’s one thing to steal...whatever...but the poor child." People, especially babies, aren’t as important as stuff.
I often feel awkward around my step-family. They’re not perfect, but they are decent. They’ve not betrayed me as my own family has. They’ve always made me feel welcome. I remember Susie as a quiet little girl who one summer’s day at our family camp decided to cannonball me from her raft as I floated by in a rubber dingy. She clambered aboard, and chattered away brightly for half-an-hour.
I miss my step-family, I just don’t feel right around them. I think it’s the weight of self-loathing I carry.
Self-loathing is a useful aegis. Ad hominems from the incompetent are moot, dooming typical Middle-class manipulation tactics. You think I’m an asshole, but I think you’re an amateur. That must get frustrating fast. I’m the bad guy, so what? That still doesn’t prove the existence of an imaginary god, the practicality of an ideology, or prompt any of the nonsensical lies so passionately believed into sudden truth overtime. Reality isn’t a game. One cannot make something real by just believing a little bit harder.
Self-loathing may promote insensitivity. Has that not proved necessary too? I am the disgruntled product of your successful campaign of disenfranchisement, for which I offer my heartiest congratulations. Well played indeed. Even I am sensitive enough to recognize you’ve already made your decision. I can detect your pride in your inability to change your own mind.
Freedom doesn’t mean having choices or having things your way: freedom means having nothing left to loose.
E Pluribus Unum
In God We Trust
One Nation Under God
Next?
Previously: Speed Bag Meditation.
Next: Benchmark.