It's been well over a month since I started my new regimen of taking care of myself. Over a month of finally working out on a regular basis. Over a month of watching what I eat and drink, making smarter choices about what I consume. Have I been perfect? No. (As it turns out, "Grape Juice Beverage" by Minute Maid is one of the most addicting substances on earth.) But have I already learned a lot? Yes.

If you had mentioned to me at Christmas that by spring break I would have settled into a regular exercise routine, I would have laughed. At the end of January, I would accused you of reading my thoughts and I would have promptly put on a tin-foil hat. Today, a little over 30 days since then, I have deliberately walked over 56 miles, done over 600 pushups, over 1800 situps, and lifted over 6 tons of steel. And throughout the course of all this, something amazing happened. I didn't lose weight (that I know of) or build muscle (that I can see), but I completely changed a habit that was years in the making.

The first few weeks of exercise were tough. I had to force myself to get up and walk. The concept of getting on our hair-covered floor to do pushups disgusted me. But I slogged through them. The first few weeks of my diet were tough. I haven't wanted caffeine so badly in my life. I had to take up chewing gum to convince my stomach that it wasn't hungry at all hours. But now, none of that's a problem. I look at the Coke machine in the basement and don't even think about stopping. I see the tub of delicious peanuts under our TV, but they have long since ceased to call out to me. I get upset when homework takes me into the late evening, because my legs are begging me to go to the gym. It's hard to be a lazy bum when your desire to be sedentary is gone.

It took a month. One month. In that month I have completely turned around two major facets of my life. Who knew it could be so simple?

Here we sit, the last minutes of the first month of a new year ticking into oblivion.

And here I sit, working on the my first blog entry of said new year. Talk about procrastination.

In conclusion, it's been a whirlwind month. My plan is to manage my time, manage my self, and manage my goals in a manner that allows me to actually do the things I love and the things I need to do, rather than just existing day to day. Wish me luck!

After returning from fall break, I am amazed by the generosity people have towards others.

First, a little background. I had been wanting to bring my car to school, because walking everywhere has severely limited me in some cases (that 3 mile walk to the church to get an Easter basket last spring nearly killed me). The only problem is, the car has been sitting dead on the driveway for years. With the help of my grandfather and a couple of phone calls to my uncle, we replaced the alternator and fixed the windshield wipers, the two most crucial repairs needed.

To get me all set to head back to school, my parents graciously paid for routine maintenance repairs on the car. All in all, I think every drop of fluid in the car may have been replaced, and with good reason, for they had probably nearly crystalized with all the time spent unused. My family was really looking out for me.

Admittedly, a solid 2-week posting break is not quite what you expected when you began reading this blog. By the same token, it wasn't what I expected either. There have been many nights where I have sat down at my keyboard, knowing the topic of my post, and no words made themselves available. In lieu of new postings, I have instead given you the gift of me having a good night's sleep. I hope you enjoyed me enjoying them.

Here's some of what I meant to write, in convenient, bite-sized bits.

Nature = Scary

Photo by Calibas, Public Domain

The scene: Brittany and I walking my dog through a park in my neighborhood.

The story: Brittany and I had stopped to sit on a bench conveniently located in the park. The dog, being a dog, curled up at my feet. After a couple of minutes, Jessie jumped to her feet, tripped over her leash, fell on her face, and jumped to her feet again. Following her panicked gaze, we saw a rather large cat, presumably a bobcat. Again. About once a year, this feline insists on walking into the park, freaking out my dog, and ruining a peaceful moment.

Photo Shoot

Photo by Joshua Kelly of Orange Hat Photos

The scene: That same park, several days later, sans one bobcat.

The story: Thanks to the forgetfulness of Joshua (by the way, you left some stuff at my house), Brittany and I had our own private slave photographer for the day. Making the most of this opportunity, we had Joshua take presumably hundreds of millions of photos of us, ranging from the romantic to the painful (she punched me!). All in all, a whopping 30 photos were not ruined by the composition-ruining magnitude of my head's size. A good afternoon was had by all, except for the photographer.

A Romantic 4th of July

Photo by Ondrejk, Public Domain

The scene: Later that same day (July 4th), at "The Ponds"

The story: To celebrate the birthday of the nation, I took Brittany on a picnic at The Ponds community just outside of Summerville. I prepared a picnic, gave my lady some lovely flowers, and got us a seat near the Summerville Community Orchestra. The evening was wonderful, with music inspired by Nazi-occupied Austria, giant hairy spiders, and fireworks. Oh, and Joshua was on our date too.

Protip: Always have a plan to get to where you're going.

Protip 2: "We'll just drive around until we find it" is not a good plan.

This past Friday night, I treated my girlfriend to a lovely dinner at California Dreaming. We had been to the restaurant before, and I was reasonably confident I could find my way there. As it turns out, I was wrong. Thanks to the power of Google Maps, you can see just how wrong I was. The red line shows the 1.5 mile finale to the journey we should have taken. The blue lines (which cross the Ashley River bridge 4 times, by the way) show the additional 10 miles and 35 minutes we had to add to the trip, thanks to ill-preparation.

After nearly a half hour of driving in circles through the crowded streets of Charleston, I was forced to concede defeat and call Mom for directions. With just one road name, I realized that I was on the wrong side of the river. Within minutes we were in the restaurant's parking lot.

Photo by pseudoflake

There are, I believe, two morals to this tale. First, if you have a date with a beautiful lady, know how to get to the restaurant so as to avoid looking like an ignoramus.

Second, when you travel throughout the paths of life, knowing where you want to go is simply not enough. You have to make the necessary preparations to get there. Having a goal in mind for your life is a good first step, but if you don't work towards that goal, you'll be perpetually lost, metaphorically driving in circles on the wrong side of the river.