By way of continuing the updates, I thought I should let you all know that I’ve recently joined a gym–Extreme Fitness.

Despite the name, I wouldn’t say anything about it is particularly extreme, though there’s nothing quite so punishing as having your ass professionally kicked by a trainer at 7am three times a week…

Now, I’m hardly a gym rat. In fact, while I don’t mind hopping on a treadmill and running in place like a gerbil for long periods of time, the whole prospect of weight-training–of WILLINGLY inflicting and having pain inflicted upon me–is something like homework. It’s definitely not enjoyable, nor something I look forward to.

I think my problem is that I don’t hate myself enough to seek out such punishment. Clearly a great deal of the clientele does, however, and such individuals are, I believe, clinically masochistic. Their whole attitude reminds me something of the flagellants.

So, far from pure vanity, my motivation is purely utilitarian: I need to do this to get (and stay) healthy. Both my day-job as editor and my career as writer involve great amounts of “butt on chair”, so this is something like what I look like now:


And this is something like what I hope to look like a few months from now (but, you know, minus the blood):

Now I just need to get some Weight Gain 4000 and I’m off to the races…

BEEFCAKE!

– S.