Quoticle – and bend over for the Soap of Excellence, bee-yatch

People often say that motivation doesn’t last. Well, neither does bathing – that’s why we recommend it daily.

~ Zig Motherfucking Ziglar

It’s not steroids, it’s justice.

Here at Meatlights I’ve christened all health-related posts for the Hit Points Category.

That said, I used to play Dungeons & Dragons as a kid but not religiously or seriously.

D&D greatest lesson for me was discovering that it’s damned near impossible even for 9-to-15-year-olds to share 4 hours of uninterrupted time free of outside distractions; this only gets worse as you grow older.

D&D also introduced the concept of Hit Points. Wikipedia, that glorious mecca for cut-n-paste losers, charlatans and the intellectually slothful, explains hit points this way:

Hit points, also known as health points, life points, HP, damage points, life bar, or just health (and countless other synonyms), are points used to determine a character’s health and show how much damage attacks deal in role-playing games, computer and video games and wargames.

I remember being amused as a yoot, reading an article in Dragon magazine about the estimated HP level of human non-characters (people in our “real world”). Our HP level hovers around a puny score of ‘8’ while role-played characters can have an almost infinite number…

——————

I’ve been struggling lately with my strength training, taking too many days off “in-between” when I’m supposed to be in that damned gym six days a week.

January 2007 I weighed at max 295…now at the end of September I weigh around 260, but with some decent muscle growth. Since I’m lifting as well as cardio’ing, I can only safely lose a max of 3lbs. per week. This way is better than crash diet/cardio-only exercise. I’ve made some great .  gains but want to do much better before the end of the year.

The routine does get boring as hell.

The worst, however, is since my gym’s renovation some months ago, membership has soared and the Asshole Factor has sextupled. The others around me in the gym piss me off so much I swear I’m going to wear out the heavy bag upstairs.

My biggest complaint about these roid-pussies, besides their mere presence, is that they saunter from machine to machine doing ONE set at a time, as if they were Tarzan and all the ‘chines were their personal vines. Circuit training my ass, they’re merely “maintaining” while I’m trying to get shit done!

I don’t like tanktopped apes flitting around me while I’m vulnerable lifting heavy weights…and the pricks just don’t seem to have any couth or courtesy. I allow them to get to me and it hampers my “performance” (gotta love quasi-gay gym-speak).

Today I lightly injured my shoulder and the overabundance of dickheads in there caused me to leave early (after whopping the crap out of the heavy bag).

That’s all I’ve got about the gym. Oh! A medical test has revealed my testosterone is one point low, so when I see the VA endocrinologist in mid-Oct, I’ll try to get some topical creme to make up for what I’m missing but deserve to have. It’s not steroids, it’s justice.