May 29, 1972. I must get in shape. Too much sitting has ruined my body.
Twenty-five push-ups each morning, one hundred sit-ups, one hundred
knee-bends. I have quit smoking.
Travis, still bareback, passes his stiff arm through the flame of a gas
burner without flinching a muscle.
Total organization is necessary. Every muscle must be tight.”
And by that i mean i’ve started doing push ups (about a month ago) but will probably hold off on the ‘arm over the stove’ bit.
That’s a clever thing to admit huh? That my inspiration for getting fit is a psycho-vigilante freak.
Push ups have given me a very mild form of man-bosom, which is something of a novelty because i’ve never been an upper-body strength type of person (ah, except for a little bit when i was working as a SuperMarioBrother). When the fight or flight question was put to me by life i always chose flight, and so got good at running very quickly away.
I just can’t get this sentence shit together tonight!