Welcome to Gaia! ::

Muse! I'm so glad to see you again. How have you been? *pours New Year's Special* Please, stay and inform us on your going-ons!

Oh, as for me, I've been WAY too busy. The new Hobb book came out, and as of now I'm on page 352. I can't tear myself away! I worked out for almost four hours today, and I ache in all the right places. It feels so good to feel the heat of movement; the run of sweat down your body, the flushed, lightheaded exhilaration where everything seems realer, and the sweetness of the ache afterwards--how have I not known this feeling? How have I avoided it for so long? In a way, it feels like sex: the build-up feels so good it hurts, the climax puts your head higher than the clouds (or over the rainbow, if you'd prefer), and it leaves you feeling that sweet ache, just like after a powerful orgasm. And it's more fun with friends.

I find that I find new things out about myself every time I work out. One day, with David, I found out that I could measure up every person in a room in a matter of seconds; another time, I learned how self-conscious I was in front of guys. I learned how to lower my walls and let people help me. I learned to deal with guys packages being in my face or behind me when I'm being spotted. I learned how to let go of my modesty. I learned to take pride in my innate strength, and that I could build it, and how. I learned that I had muscles in place I never knew, and learned their names. I learned to admire guys without going green with envy or red with lust (mostly). I learned how to pace myself, how to better myself, how to enjoy myself. I learned, today, that that me that I can see when I close my eyes doesn't have to be just a dream. I could be...fit. Cut.

I could be attractive.

Sweet Mother of God, I could be sexy.

The thought is still foreign to me. But...

Maybe it doesn't have to be. I'm learning to love this strange, queer body of mine. One step, one lift, one tantalizing ache at a time. I feel myself warming to myself. Henson was right, I suddenly know. It's so much better to embrace the body, to better it, to be the best you can be, than to loathe yourself and go on a diet. Better by far to feel that ache in your muscles than to feel it in your stomach. Better to learn about your body, than to remain in cruel indifference, or unguided hatred of it. Better to find yourself in yourself than to find it in the pages of Maxim or Playboy/girl. Better to accept your body than to reject it. Best of all to find your limits, and push them.

It is good to feel good about your body. But it is better to love your body. All the better a vessel to live in, one that is cared for, and serves its master well.

You know...I think I understand now that I've been working out my whole life. I've been training my soul. Happiness and Mellowness have been the food and drink I have taken into my heart. Anger, Sorrow, and Pain were my equipment. Struggle and Strife are my warm-ups, Gentleness and Generosity, my cool-downs. And over time, I have gained so much heart-muscle (and forgive me for the terrible pun). Joy is the endorphin (sp?), the sweet ache, Melancholy. Acceptance breaks down walls I built so high; Understanding builds new walls, stronger and more inclusive. Love grows as surely and steadily as muscle, as broadly as confidence, as narrowly as the individual. It reveals from the excess the definition of a person. It strengthens the heart. It builds resolve, stamina. In the truth of the individual, we can find beauty. In the fitness of the soul, we see what we should be. How is the body any different? The mind is not. So how, pray tell, have I been so blind?

But enough of this. I'm sorry my absence has drawn overlong. Locker Room Discrepancies must wait another day before it can be fit (no pun intended) to read.

Love and Vale,
~Andrew

You worked out for four hours?! eek I only work out for an hour at the most (half an hour of some kind of cardiovascular activity and half an hour muscle toning). I don't think I could motivate myself to work out for more than that, unless I really hated the way my body looks, which I don't.

It does feel to good to be working out again though... I feel like I have more energy and I don't feel so sick all the time. And I've started to eat better foods too, so that helps.

Training your soul, huh? I never thought about that. It should be just as important as taking care of your body... that's something that I still need to learn. I am starting to come out of my 'anti-people' phase, which has had plenty of negative effects on my soul. One of my professors said in a lecture the other day, "you can't live without friends". And up until now I thought you could. But life is so meaningless without friends. I realize how important friendship is, and I've started to try to reconnect with old friends and mend old wounds that ended good friendships.... maybe even make some new friends.

I would say that training the soul is more crucial than your body, as you are left with your soul in your golden age as your body (and mind?) begin to deteriorate. I should add, though, that because of this fact, it may be wise also to put emphasis on physical activity *gasp* during your youthful years. And perhaps add more on to your life. And improve the quality of your life. I'm finding it to be a difficult line to walk, between body and spirit, as my physical condition becomes more and more of a focal point.

But anyway, yes, four hours. From about 2:45 to 6:15. Three and a half, I guess. I take five minute breaks after every full exercise routine (such as thirty minute light jog after ten minute warm-up). Coach says that after 7.5 minutes pass, you regain up to 90(?)% of your original stamina. Using that principle, I took about 25 minutes total to regain strength. Warm-up and cool-down were 10 minutes each. So 45 minutes, I wasn't really working out at all. But the other time (what, three hours?) I spent working out. High reps, mid-weight on upper body, high reps, heavy-weight on lower body. My lower body is disproportionately stronger than my upper body (thank you DDR, and ridiculous amounts of walking out stress). I can only lift about 100 pounds max. with my arms, but can lift 175 easily with my legs. I start getting shaky in the early 200's (the highest I could do three reps of was 240).

And don't you threaten me with the motivational speaker business Mr. I-Survived-Everything-The-World-Threw-At-Me-And-Came-Out-Stronger!

Heh. I'm still eating fatty foods. I had, like, four or five pieces of pizza tonight. Of course, I had a light lunch, and only milk for breakfast (I wasn't hungry)....

On a closing note...regardless of what others might say, friends are what keep us sane, and strong. They lend us the strength to find the good in ourselves. I don't know if I could have survived without my friends after Mama died. I don't think I'd have the courage, or the strength, to find a way to go on. Only a friend like Taylor, in that gush of empathy, in that immortal moment of shared weakness, could have given me that strength (it really is the perfect word), to persevere. I believe, Maggie, that you will find your strength, and rebuild your circle of friends. Maybe starting with a bigmouth/Love-Freak online.

Love and Vale,
~Andrew

I know, I read it this afternoon on Yahoo! I'm pretty upset, but I couldn't bring myself to cry. It seems too ironic somehow that he would toss a few pills back and kill himself.
-Andrew

P.S. And he was SO pretty, too!

Oh how the converstaion here has twisted and turned in the past few pages.
Go Leavaros! But... 4 hours does seem a bit much. sweatdrop
So, what's this new story idea?

Mirror Mask is an anime? LIES! It's much better as an actual movie. Or, here's the whole movie if you prefer...

S'okay, I can see how you would think that.

But yeah, it's one of my favorite movies. I absolutely adore Jason Barry (Valentine).

"NO I DON'T WANT TO BE A WAITER!!! gonk " Ah... good times, good times.