So I lied those two times this week when I said I was going to go for a run. And no, I didn’t walk to work either. I also finished my chocolate-stash-for-the-week in two days. And I had pop tarts as a late night snack yesterday. And I feel bloated and ugly and old. This too shall pass.

But I am really going for a run this morning. Probably just a (not-so-)quick zip around the neighbourhood (owing to that bloated, grody feeling – did I mention those 10:30pm faux pop tarts?). I need to remind myself that while food is a pleasure thing, it’s primarily fuel, so sitting around admiring my new slippers and cramming my face with sugary things will surely not make me feel good for very long, especially as I’m snacking out of feeling blue and bored, rather than being hungry. Serotonin is much better for my mood, so I’d better get moving.

I also have to cram at least two, possibly three yoga classes in the next week because my class pass is about to expire, such has been my sloth for…a long time. Those passes last a year, man. I also got a weight training program from a tiny local gym…then didn’t go after the third session, even though I enjoyed it. I can’t really blame my two-months-ago vacation and two subsequent colds for that anymore.

Hypocrite, cliché, or just human? I hope it’s the latter.

Practice what you preach, McLeod, and get your ass in gear.

Here’s a nice photo from my large collection of nice photos, because I haven’t posted any in a long time, from my last trip to California. Where it is sunny.

A skateboarder at Venice Beach.

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