15 May 2009

That Guy On The Treadmill

I'm writing from school today since I have an hour to kill before my next class.

School has taken over my life but I'm loving it. I'm certain I would not have savored this road in life let alone appreciated classes had I gone to school years earlier in life.

There is something so wonderfully cathartic to be learning. You feel outside of yourself, stretching, reaching, and progressing. With great amazement I find that life is coming closer to me and with each step forward I feel stronger and more invincible. I sound like a Metamucil advertisement.

In school, I'm currently writing a research paper on Garadasil, the HPV vaccination. I'm still getting my poop in a group and am feeling overwhelmed as I usually do with any project requiring brain power.

Blogging is easy to me. No brain power (as my posts suggest, just mouth-breathing). Research writing, not so much. The paper writing process feels backwards for me because I typically just sit and write and see what comes out. A good writer can do this but a good writer can also focus, organize, plan, and get outside the box with unfamiliar methodologies simply to hone their craft. Oh, and I'm honing, all right. I want to nail this paper. Honing, honing, honing.

Since I'm going through all this 'self-discovery' mixed with liberal growing pains, I've added exercise to my daily repertoire. Yes, I'm dumb.

The first several days of my brilliant change of lifestyle was a painful success. Now I'm in the groove and religiously running/walking my 2 miles every day. My apartment manager is usually there at the same time. If you don't know already, I'm a tad bit competitive. I have this innate need to be superbly good at what I do. This also translates in the workout room. I admit. I'm one of those.

I may not be as thin as the manager and have cool shoes but I still can outrun her. She steps it up whenever I get on the treadmill, which cracks me up. Then I *run* while she *walks*. Who is going to go faster?

This is so dumb, I can't believe I'm telling all the millions of my close personal internet traffic.

I'm made of German peasant stock so I'm stubborn as hell. My problem is where I tell myself I'm the next Prefontaine. The next day, I'm cursing my competitive streak when I can barely squat to tie my shoes.  I'm getting stronger every day. I'm pleasantly surprised to get out of bed and not creak like an old ship. This is the biggest change. The scale hasn't budged but the scale is the devil anyway.

~Bee is feeling the burn
Listening to: So What by P!nk