Go Fly a Kite

Ok, I got a lot going on, I might jump around a little.  Where do I start?

Twenty days down and I feel like I’m starting to hallucinate. Driving home from my swim class Tuesday night I saw a midget walking with about ten balloons flying overhead. No joke.  Now I know, I know, you can’t say that shit anymore.  It’s not PC.  Let me re-phrase.  I saw a midget walking with about ten helium transporters flying overhead.

As of today I weigh 161.5lbs.  I have lost three pounds and am beginning to see changes in my face, shoulders, arms and a little in my stomach.  My endurance has also increased thanks to Trent who continues to push me towards my goals even when I want to say “Fuck it” and give up.  Every morning when I drag myself out of bed, I dream about punching myself repeatedly in the neck and face and telling Trent that I was jumped by an Asian street gang on my way to his gym. But, after my workout, and as the day goes on, I can feel the exercises and the changes spilling over and influencing the other aspects of my life.  Life has been pretty beautiful these past few days.  Although busy, I am beginning to feel the clarity for which I set out.

So I guess one thing that goes along with a healthy diet is taking vitamins.  It was pretty new to me, especially the fact that I didn’t have to have a prescription or a shady encounter with some 35-year-old live at home guy named “Chill.”  Just go to your nearest Whole Foods, find the cute Goth chic, and get some of this shit.  

Most of this stuff was recommended to me by Trent and the Goth girl.  It’s good for my heart and blood and blah,blah,blah.  Now that anti-aging pill, I picked that out.  Who knew, eternal fucking youth in aisle five.  All joking aside though, these vitamins are a little expensive, so if anyone knows a guy, who knows a guy, who happens to sell this stuff out of his parent’s basement, hook it up and shoot me a text.

So I went all stalker-style in the name of this blog.  The night was warm and as my swimmates filed in from their long days of work and toil I searched for the weakest of the pack.  Oh yes, my friends, like a sly Lion on the plains of the Serengeti, I stalked my prey and slowly, silently, withdrew my camera from my bag.  She had arrived late and was one of the last getting into the pool. Like an injured wildebeest trying to catch up with the group, she hurridely changed into her gear. She was quick, and I was starting to feel like a creep.  I could not get a “before” shot but I sure got one of the “after”, one of the transformation.  This is the shit people wear at swim glass and I say bullocks!   Now again, I love my wife so it shouldn’t matter.  But, this is pretty much like an American burka.  Come on man, no one can make a sexier swim outfit for girls?  We can make cell phones that can pretty much give you a massage — with a happy ending — and we are stuck with this shit?  Let’s get serious.

For the past nine years I have gone in the Pacific ocean at least one day of each month consecutively. Some months are colder than others and, to be quite honest, all of my crazy German friends that use to join me have since moved away.  I beg Katherine to come down and watch me because frankly it’s not as fun if you don’t have a swimming buddy or if you’re not showing off for someone.  Lately, my father- in-law has been coming with me.  Growing up, I was fatherless and I’ve always had a chip on my shoulder about it.  My reward though, for all the embarrassing years of not knowing how to tie a tie and having to take a neighbor to the Boy Scout father/son outing etc… is that I have inherited the greatest father-in-law in the world.  This guy is a riot.  He’s a Navy guy so he’s tough and you kind of have to cover your food while your eating or his fork will sneak onto your plate.  I know, it’s crazy shit. But he is full of love, and he puts up with me and treats me like a son, which I appreciate.  It did take some getting used to though, because this guys a hugger.  The first time I met him he hugged me and I was like what the fuck is this guy doing.  Then I realized, grocery store bagger, shop girl, priest, flight attendant, he’s just an equal-opportunity hugger.  Which if you think about it, this world could use a lot more of.

So pretty much I’m kicking ass.  My days are nonstop and by the end of it I’m exhausted.  So far this has been pretty rewarding.  I keep thinking, shit if I would of tried this in college I’d probably own a plane by now, or at least have some servants and giraffes. I am taking some time for me and my girl though.  We spent the weekend on the beach reading and flying a kite.  That’s right man, don’t knock it.  Katherine even got me the two-line, double-hand, trick kite with which I annoy the piss out of my fellow beach goers. There is nothing like a good kite flight to relax my soul and make me forget about my love of beer.Little outside activities like this are a great way for me not only to be in the sun and run around a bit, but, since I am always chasing youth, anything that can help me capture it and relieve any thoughts of work, responsibility and all that shit is a welcomed break.  I know some of you are stuck in the snow but trust me, if I could get out and bomb some cars with snow balls, I’d be doing it twice a week.

Now some people ask, “Crowley, where do you write this shit?  Some opium den, in the early hours, on the South side of Redondo Beach?”  No, no, no, my dear friends.  Not to take away from the romanticism of it all, but I am actually now sitting on my couch, with nothing but my swim goggles on and The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills playing in the background.


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