I wish I had something wonderful and wise to share.
But all I keep coming back to is how fat I am and how fat I feel.
I am still injured and exercise feels like a drug that I am desperately craving: I need to be going like 6 hours a day.
The olympics make it worse. Seeing the gymnasts reminds me of all old potentials and my wasted careers. My wasted flexibly and stiffness I harbor now.
It doesn’t help that I’ve been sick with a cold and unable to breathe –shoutout to asthma– sporting severe dizziness and some nausea.
People are so spoiled to overrate normalcy.