184 days.
I fell off the wagon. And it only took a mini breakdown and my encouraging wife to get me back in gear.
I decided to record a quick conversation with myself, it is completely unedited so there will be long pauses, etc. But you can hear the exhaustion and heavy breathing. And I’m damn embarrassed. But if I’m not hiding my body, I’m not hiding my mind.
My body is a Prison
This was the motivational phrase I focused on during my walk. Right now there is so much my body won’t let me do, both physically incapable of doing, and such that the world won’t let me do. Things like run a mile, do a pull up, or from the world’s limitations: ride some roller coasters (too fat for the safety harness) and fit comfortably in an airplane seat (hips wise, knees are always going to be a problem.)
So I’m breaking out. I’m working to escape this prison.
184 days.
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