Prelude to My Summer of Gump

Remember that time I was going to get in to better shape through dieting HAHAHAHA yeah me neither. I quickly learned Paleo can go to Helleo (why must I always rhyme with that word)

Seriously though. I have a big problem. I'm in the worst kind of trouble. (Not really. I have an over active imagination that exaggerates the mundane. For example, Whenever I have bananas I eat half of one and the rest go bad, whenever I'm out of bananas I am convinced I'm on the verge of a potassium deficiency that will lead to certain death before I can even make it to the grocery store. In fact I can't make it to the grocery store because the low levels of Potassium have led to a case of the shakes and driving just isn't safe. and I am going to die. 99% of me knows THAT IS NEVER GOING TO HAPPEN but just because I acknowledge that reality doesn't mean I thrive in it so back to panicking.)

I have recently become obsessed. Actually obsessed is a word I am no longer fond of - so let's begin again.

I have recently become aware that I am not physically capable of very many things. I even struggle with basic things. A couple of blogs ago I wrote a little bit of nonsense about my brother Mashu. He has no hands but he still manages to do a lot of stuff. It kind of got me thinking how far beyond expectations he goes on a daily basis. Is it because he really has no choice? If he didn't push himself beyond the minimum he wouldn't have independence. And that's when I realized, I'm such a loser. I never meet or exceed expectations. I have all of my parts and I don't even use them.

Look at this photo. Her and I are exactly alike. We have all of the same parts. What is the difference then? For starters, I don't look that good. Ever. But more to the point, I have never tried that hard at anything. ANYTHING. If I were on fire I still wouldn't dig deep and give 100%. I'd give like 64%, I'd go through the motions but I wouldn't come to a complete stop. I'd likely just lower rather than drop and I see myself wiggling more than the required roll. So instead of stop, drop, and roll. I would slowly bend and wiggle. When on fire I would dance. Dirty dance. Poorly.
Look at her. How awesome is that? Even if this is a picture of her in a race she lost it's still impressive. When you compete, no matter what sport, you fight yourself. You are your biggest opponent. Why? Because every instinct tells you to take the path of least resistance which translates to - accomplish the task with minimal effort. You can walk to the finish line. Therefor anything beyond walking to some degree is unnatural. So you have to overcome that instinct to reserve your energy and instead do the opposite. Force yourself in to a focused explosion of energy and accomplish something unnecessary. And by unnecessary I mean if she doesn't run nothing happens. No one is chasing her, nothing is about to explode, no danger anywhere. She is able to harness that same "do or die" inner force outside of a "do or die" situation. I DON'T KNOW HOW TO DO THAT. Plus I am constantly plagued with the overwhelming instinct to find the nearest sandwich. Which is rarely the appropriate action. Sometimes though, it's lunch time and everyone is hungry for cold cuts. That's when I shine. And I dance. Like I'm on fire. Slow and awkward.

So what to do? How do I make my desire to do more/be more, become a reality? I will do what I do second best. That's right boys and girls! It's time for crazy cakes dipped in nutter butter! At the beginning of this ramble I mentioned a problem. What is that problem you ask? I'm horribly out of shape and my half ass attempts at dieting and exercise don't seem to be working. So I have done what any sane rational person would do. I committed to a half a dozen feats of physical strength that I am in no way capable of. I spent a small fortune and I have told everyone I know I'm doing it. Leaving me no choice but to follow through. The first of which is a Triathlon in exactly 23 days. The best part. I don't know how to swim, and I know for a fact that an inability to swim is a major problem in a triathlon. This isn't my first stroll down nut bar lane I've tried a Tri before. (It wasn't a very good solution that time either but my unique aptitude for never learning from my mistakes has the benefit of making my life more entertaining for others)
My only hope of not finishing dead last is to come equipped with a taser to take out the competition. The flaw in that plan is that those who know me best will pat me down before the race and take it away.

In conclusion my next several blogs are going to focus on this need of mine to set my self up for failure and then I will lament endlessly about all the ways I could have avoided it. I will share my training, my possible  transformation, my likely humiliation. The difference between this time and every other time I've done this, AKA summer, - I'm going to try. I'm being serious. I'm really going to try this time. I'm not just going to walk to the finish line. I'm going to explode with energy and focus that energy. I'm going to exceed my expectations and impress myself. I'm going to download eye of the tiger and drop kick a Russian in the face.