Where

I’ve realized I’m very overweight. When I urinate, I can’t see my penis. It’s frustrating, disgusting, and I need to do something about it. I’m hiring a nutritionist and getting back on track. It doesn’t make sense, but I know what to do. My chest pains are still intermittent, as they’ve been for years. I’m not sure what the main issue is, and the doctor said there isn’t one.

I bought a Garmin Edge 500 for my bike. I’m excited about the weather improving so I can ride to work. I’ve been sleeping better. The Nedimed sinus rinse is excellent. The right side is usually clear, but the left isn’t. Both sides emptied like a large marble tonight, and it felt great. I work 11-12 hours a day, including lunch. I eat breakfast and lunch at the office desk. Will I ever get caught up? I have a good-paying job, but it’s uncertain.

I’m still down about my girlfriend reminding me that “it’s my house” often. I think I need to move on. She’s independent, but sharing is nonexistent. Easter is approaching, which is a welcome event. It’s hard to sense sarcasm in writing. It’s another holiday where people with nothing in common get together. Where’s a root canal when we need one? I hate these gatherings. I can’t recall the last time I enjoyed one. Maybe I don’t belong anywhere.

Belonging causes many problems. People often struggle to find a sense of belonging, whether it’s through religion, nation, culture, or race. Negative aspects of being human, like drug addictions, alcoholism, racism, and mental/physical afflictions, often create a sense of belonging by providing a sense of recourse in their criticisms.

Belonging is a double-edged sword. On the one hand, you seek out others who share similar interests to alleviate loneliness. On the other hand, you don’t want to be categorized and generalized, conveniently switching your position depending on merit. You want to have it all and never be lonely.

I’m not saying I never feel lonely, because it’s totally normal. We all experience it from time to time, but that doesn’t mean we have to fix it. We tend to want to fix everything negative, but not every negative thing needs fixing. Science and technology have led us to believe that we have a solution for everything, that we shouldn’t experience any negative emotions, and that we can eliminate all negative feelings. When I see people constantly trying to fix their negative emotions, I feel like telling them to chill out, that it’s just on TV and in movies that people get eternal bliss, that it’s okay to feel what they’re feeling, and that they should stop trying to fix everything. Ironically, most of these people are busy fixing problems that can’t be fixed and don’t even try to fix issues that can be fixed.

Life has a funny way of showing us what it’s all about. Often, it’s our own struggles that make us struggle. Eventually, we realize that the footprints of the crook we were chasing were our own. Only by stepping back and looking at our own behaviors can we see the big circle we’re going around. That’s all I do. I keep going in circles until I realize that chasing a sense of belonging makes me feel lonelier.

Carry on!

HELL IS WHERE I AM AT

I’m utterly miserable. It couldn’t get any worse. I’m overweight, and no matter what I do, my weight doesn’t improve. Is this a midlife crisis? Am I 50? But I’m not sure, and I’m just sick of life. All I do is work and sleep, and I have no interest in anything. Not photography, working out, movies, anything! How can this be? I’m at my lowest when I have the most income and disposable income ever. Life was much fuller when I lived on a shoestring, wondering how to buy food. What figures?

I often wonder, “Do I hate life?” Do I regret being a father? If not, maybe I don’t entirely hate it, but I’m unhappy with my current situation. Perhaps I’m depressed, bored, or apathetic. Or maybe I don’t see the point in living at all. But if I don’t see the point in living, then I miss life entirely. The point of life is to enjoy it, but I’m not, and I’m not sure how!

I know life is my creation. It’s not something that happens unless I make the foolish mistake of abandoning my responsibility as my life’s chief architect. I shouldn’t feel bad. Humans make mistakes at some point. Humans are in charge of their own lives, and life experiences are under our control. The truth is that we live by choice. But I try to choose and fail! I’ve decided to relinquish control. Like I let go of the controls of a vehicle in motion, such as a car on an ice-covered winter road? My life is unpredictable. It spins around in circles, gets stuck somewhere, or crashes. 

I need to surrender.

Surrendering life, isn’t that a positive thing? It all depends on how you approach it. If I interpret surrendering to a higher power as relinquishing control and hoping everything will work out fine, well, I hope you don’t try this while driving at 60 mph on an icy freeway. That kind of surrender is the exact opposite of conscious living. It’s not spiritual, it’s not divine, and it’s simply foolish.

But what can I do? Where can I turn? For goodness’ sake, I’m so overweight that wiping my butt is no longer an easy task. What’s going on? I need to regain control, but I’m not sure how. I’m going to hire a professional nutritionist and give it a try. At around $300 a month, it would be a more affordable option. But where else can I turn?

My relationship with my girlfriend and son has deteriorated. It’s just empty. Is it complacency on my part or theirs? My girlfriend often ignores me for weeks and then calls, as if she needs me now, and gets upset if I’m not at her beck and call. My girlfriend is also self-centered and only thinks about her wants and needs. Nothing fazes her! However, she has led a relatively secluded life.

I’ve started taking Bifidobacterium and L-glutamine, which might help. My breathing is difficult, and I have chest congestion every hour. My sleep has also been terrible. I wake up and try to sleep again, but I don't fall back asleep, and I wake up soon. I wake up so tired and struggling. I need to get this under control!

Enough complaining. I need to call it a day and get some sleep. Work is busy, life is busy, my relationships are busy, and I hate them all!!!

I felt like this in 2006 when I wrote a depressing song.  Lyrics are:

Ask what's the matter

I have had a hard life

I’m placing the Don't Disturb sign on my door

I’ve lost my place in line again

Losing my life

I’ve never seem to want to smile anymore

I take the long way

Trying to find my soul

Riding a freight train

Off its track

And as my life continues without a single goal

Life seems gone, and I will never get it back

Here I am counting sheep once again

What's the point of trying to dream anymore

My heart is pounding hard with pain 

Drowning in the ocean, I can’t find the shore

I know my emotions 

Move at full speed

Moving in the wrong direction in this time of need

I take a few more bruises

And there will be many more

My life is lost as I head out the door 

I hide the truth

I am not happy

Wasted energy censoring my tears

Act like a crusader

Always on the right track

But I’m a lost man with knives in my back

I can’t take a moment

It is plain to see

Life races faster than it should be

All that matters

Is showing my happy lies

Clouded to hide my tear-filled eyes

Will someone please

Please tell me?

Is there hope of love and happiness for me

I can only wonder

How to set me free

I can’t find the answer

What's the matter with me

I can only wonder how to set me free

I can’t find the answer

What's the matter with me

Carry on my friends, carry on!

It is MY house!

Several years ago, during the economic downturn, I decided to move in with my girlfriend. I cover her rent, which would have been a negligible expense if I had lived alone. Consequently, financial matters did not hold significant importance for me. 

However, over the course of a few years, I experienced a loss of personal identity. I no longer possess items from my previous life when my son and I resided independently. Instead, I am now surrounded by her and her daughter’s memories. Her dishes, colors, photographs, decor, and various other belongings are all present. She expresses her desire for me to feel comfortable and make the space our own, but when she becomes upset, she reminds me, “It’s my house.” She is correct. I find myself questioning the purpose of my actions.

In December 2005, this same individual ended our relationship, and I met a very supportive female companion. We did not engage in a traditional dating relationship, as I adhere to the one-year rule. She was not self-centered and possessed the ability to make a man feel valued. There was no sexual intimacy involved; she accepted my natural actions and hers. She intuitively understood what brought me joy. Even seemingly insignificant details had a profound impact. I successfully lost nearly 100 pounds, and life was exceptionally fulfilling. 

However, the individual who had ended our relationship was subsequently dumped, and she returned to me. Naturally, I made the mistake of reconciling with her. Since then, her actions have instilled a sense of self-doubt within me. She is undoubtedly the most challenging person to love. This may be why I continue to persevere in my efforts. Nevertheless, I am compelled to contemplate whether I should abandon this endeavor.

It is time for introspection. This is her residence, where I reside. It may be prudent to relocate to a new place without her as a significant part of my life. As she accurately points out, it is “her house,” and I am merely a tenant. A healthy transition may entail distancing myself from her life and residence.

I can sense my frustration. I am beginning to comprehend the reasons behind her ex-husband’s departure.

I arrived at work early today, and another 60-plus-hour week awaits me. I detest my job. However, as I mentioned yesterday, I am content with only a small portion of anything. I desire pleasant weather so that I can at least engage in cycling. Therefore, I have a glimmer of hope, as if there were not already a glimmer of hope; what else could there be? Perhaps medication. The ideal medication for this situation is FUKITOL!

All you quiet dreamers, carry on!

Still a slacker

I’m struggling to meet my writing goals. I intended to write more frequently, thoughtfully, and enlighteningly. It’s been 17 days since my last post, and I’ve been battling a severe chest cold that makes it difficult to function.

Life feels aimless. I work, clean, exercise, sleep, and repeat. I try to stay positive, but it’s challenging. Humans often create their own problems, but some things are truly disheartening. For instance, my girlfriend’s notorious tardiness. She’s an hour late when she says she’ll be home at 8. Her kids and I joke about it, but it’s inconsiderate.

I’ve had a few good workouts, aiming for at least 45 minutes of hard exercise and incorporating yoga. Working 60-65 hours a week makes it challenging to achieve my goals. I’ve tried progesterone cream, usually used for menopause, but it may balance hormones for men. I’ve been using it for two days, but I haven’t noticed any difference.

I hope to get the bike out in three weeks and look forward to the rides to and from work. They’re hard but enjoyable.

Carry on!

Holy shit

I was severely ill, missing work on Tuesday, and still not improving. On Saturday, we attended an ice sculpting event, parade, and rodeo in freezing weather, which exacerbated my condition. This four-day ordeal has been unbearable. I’ve been writing in this journal for 11 days, experiencing the worst cold I’ve ever had. Despite taking time off work, my co-workers have never recalled me being sick. I attribute this to being overweight, as I’ve never been this fat in my adult life. Research shows I have a slow metabolism. No matter what I read or what diet, I’m still struggling.

Looking back, I have gained 30 pounds since 2006. The common factor is hard work, not diet. For example, when I worked as a furniture builder, I’d bike, walk, run, or do anything to get my heart rate up for three hours a day. I lost a lot of weight then, but these were stress-free times, thanks to a good knee. I’m tempted to try again, but I’ll be cautious.

221 pounds - 2006

275 pounds 2011 (295 in 2013)

However, she was in the bathroom. When she came out, she kissed my forehead, walked the dog, showered, and went to work. She didn’t see anything wrong with this on Valentine’s Day because it was her routine. She has those routines. If things get tough, she would swear the apocalypse was upon us and life is over. She’s really hard to love for that exact reason. She’s into her routines and goes through life with tiny surprises, changes, or excitement.

On the other hand, I rarely do anything consistently and struggle with meeting expectations. I’m always prepared for life changes because I have no expectations. This could be why we’ve dated for years without any issues. She has her routine, and I have no expectations… except for Valentine’s morning.

Why do I persist in staying in this relationship? Because she’s my best friend. We’re incredibly close friends. We spend time together, talking, walking, and biking, and we share many similar traits. Surprisingly, I was once in a relationship with someone who had no special connection with me, and she agreed. However, as lovers, we’re both amazed by each other. My current relationship is fulfilling in terms of my sexual performance, but she’s more of a taker than a giver. In the past nine years, I’ve had two instances where I felt like she wasn’t the “make me feel great, thank you” kind of lover, or that it wasn’t just a quick fix.

Life is funny that way; we seem to experience extreme happiness on one side and nothing on the other. Where is the balance?

Perhaps it’s me. I often find myself living that way—either working out hours a day or not at all, running marathons or not, riding 20 miles or not at all. It’s strange, considering I’m 50 years old. We should have some things figured out, but I wonder if it’s simply too complex ever fully to comprehend. Why do we persist in trying? There are numerous theories and beliefs, and people strongly oppose or are indifferent to them. Religious wars are built on these two extremes, with people fighting about whose belief is correct. In America, we now have a similar conflict between gun owners and those who advocate for common sense. I mean, who needs an AK-47 to hunt? How could the founders have anticipated the technological advancements that would occur when they declared the right to bear arms? I couldn't care less, but I have friends on the other side, and I have to tread carefully because I’m in the middle. They’re trying to get me on their side, but I see that both sides are broken. I want to engage in self-reflection, focus, and even consider all perspectives. But then again, as I’ve gotten older, I thought I would have figured it out, and it’s become even more complex.

Either way, the time I’ve been sick has taken a toll on house cleaning and my workload. This week, I worked a 60-hour week, which feels more like the norm.

On the positive side, I’m feeling better. Yesterday, I cleaned the bedroom and den and spent 7 hours at work. I’m gradually getting back to normal, but I’m not sure what that means yet.

Carry on!

Blogs are?

Many blogs, including mine, have become less frequent, despite their commendable intentions to provide creative writing and insights. As I read blogs, I often ponder whether others share my perspective. With the instant gratification of Facebook, we receive snippets of life and have fewer reasons (or time) to engage in writing about our training, races, or general life experiences. We never obtain the complete picture, only fragments.

My friend Steve has consistently struggled with training, yet he has always had something to share. I admire that ability. Occasionally, the diverse insights he offers are unfamiliar to me, but I still appreciate his thoughts (most of the time).

I miss my regular blog posting! Even if they are not read, they have a calming effect on my mind. Expressing thoughts in words is a skill that allows me to process life’s complexities. Sometimes, I view my blog as the bartender of a post-blog era. I used to be in a position where people would enter the bar, purchase a strong drink, sit at it, and share their innermost thoughts. I would feign listening and occasionally utter phrases like “I understand” or “You are certain,” merely to make them believe I was attentive. This would culminate in a generous tip. Did I genuinely care? Not really, but they vented, shared, and sorted through the challenges they may encounter daily.

Oh, there was this one time at the YMCA in Fargo when I met a stranger who asked if I used to work at the Doublewood Inn. I told him I still did, and he was so grateful! I was totally surprised because I’d never met him before. He said he got fired from his job and wasn’t looking forward to going home, so he stopped by and got a little too carried away.

I apologized for not knowing him. He told me I listened to him for hours before telling him he had two choices: keep drinking and have no life, or wake up and realize his life is what he makes of it. (I don’t remember saying that to anyone, but he was sure it was me, and I did work there.)

That was one of those really rewarding times in my life. I think about how things have changed. No longer are bartenders free psychologists. There aren’t many places left where we can express ourselves semi-anonymously anymore. So, we blog, or at least I do.

Hey, did you know that the word “blog” is actually a mash-up of “web” and “log”? It’s like a four-letter powerhouse that’s all about sharing your thoughts and writing online! And get this: “We blog” has become simply “blog” on the Internet, in its terrific, straightforward way.

This excellent way to share your thoughts instantly and globally, thanks to technology that has been around for about a decade, means you can’t go back and edit things later (except for fixing minor typos or glitches). Plus, you don’t have to spend hours thinking about what to write. It’s just your spontaneous thoughts flowing out there! It’s not as permanent as regular news, but it’s still visible to everyone. You’re always accountable to your readers and other bloggers, and everything is linked together through hypertext. Unlike print journalism, it’s incredibly open, and its truth is constantly evolving. It’s still taking some getting used to how this affects writing.

Hey, anyone who’s been blogging for a while knows what I’m talking about! We bloggers don’t get a lot of time to sit back and gather our thoughts, waiting for things to settle down and make sense. We blog now, as news breaks and facts come to light.

We’re writing about ourselves at a pretty steady point in all this constant chatting with the world around us. So, in a way, the diary is the closest thing to a blog in history. But here’s the thing: a diary is usually a private thing. It’s all about being real, sticking to what’s happening right now, and remembering how things were. It’s like a personal log. Now, some diaries are meant for others to read, just like letters, but they are usually written after someone has passed away or compiled to create a more thoughtful autobiography. But a blog is different because it’s instantly public. It turns this most personal and reflective form into something super public and immediate. It combines the confessional style with the log format, putting the author in the spotlight like never before!

Okay, time to head to bed! I caught Bye Bye Birdie at the Chanhassen Dinner Theater tonight, and wow, it was a fantastic show at such a lovely venue. I hope everyone’s ready for that blizzard forecast we’re hearing about in the next few days. It feels like ages since we’ve had a real classic blizzard!

All you quiet dreamers, carry on!

Comments from my original blog - I merged the blogs.

SteveQ

The "most of the time" made me laugh.   Saturday, February 9, 2013 at 11:29:17 AM CST

Mike W.

Good post, totally agree about your Steve comment, I hope he keeps posting and you pick it up a bit more.  Sunday, February 10, 2013 at 8:18:57 PM CST