By adding on another couple dozen yards every time I go jogging, I’m now up to 2.72 miles per jogging session (trying to get these to twice a week).
The goal is to top out at 3 miles, three times a week. I’ve set myself some top-out limits for the fitness stuff. No more than 3 miles, 3 times a week for jogging (or 4 miles, two times a week), and no more than 3 days a week of martial arts, no matter how many years I do it or how well I progress. Also, now that I’m at 30lb free weights for my morning routine, I’ve set myself a 50lb free weight limit. I want to have a comfortable “set” point for my fitness level – sufficiently high so I have a long way to go to get there, but “low” enough that I’m not going to be an obsessive who’s always miserable because I can’t get to the “next level.” Fitness is great, but I’ve got these other things that need to take priority. Having a ceiling on the fitness stuff helps me focus.
Am currently reviewing another paper for my Ph.D-candidate buddy. I am living my academic life vicariously through him.
Damn, I need to put some damn stories in the damn mail. I’m going home and having a beer. It’s funny how my life works: everything can come together for me, but I’m in a constant critique of the things that can be better. I’ve heard that ambitious people are more prone to fits of dissatisfaction: we have higher standards; every time we hit a goal, we make a higher one. Or, in my case, the goals are just always outrageously high. The stuff in-between (like, say, now) are just the steps I need to take to get there.
I’ll look at it this way: my healthiness means I’ll live longer, so I’ll have time to write more books.
Yea, I’ve been in a writing rut for the last week.
More later. The blogosphere ceases to amuse me at the moment.