Stuck.

"Instead of taking action, why don't you begin routine. And instead of being tired, why don't you become machine?"

In the past, I used to identify most with the line about becoming a machine.  Now, I can most identify with beginning routine.  My routine is this:

I wake up around 7:30.  Open my eyes, and assess the situation.  After a long night of gut-wrenching dreams that are not reality, I decide that things have not gotten any better over night.

I get out of bed, make my bed (still keeping it up), and go downstairs where I make my breakfast and coffee.  I read my book for approximately 30 minutes while I enjoy the last bit of my coffee.  This keeps my mind occupied for a short period of time.

Then it is off to the library.  I leave by 9:50 so that I can get there as the doors open at 10, where I join the mad rush of the other lonely/nerdy souls who have nothing better to do at 10 AM on a week day morning but browse through the non-fiction section or hole up in a silent study room that I am unlucky enough to miss out on if I don't make it by 10 on the dot.

I study mindlessly for 2 hours for a test that I will most certainly pass in 6 weeks, but have nothing better to occupy my time/mind with these days.  I do allow for a 5 minute "lap around the library" walking break to break up the 2 hours.

At some point in the afternoon comes the best part of my day.  As was once written by John L. Parker Jr., endurance athletes use their training to self-medicate for their manic depression.  Well, these days, I am definitely self medicating -- although I do not think that my depression is manic. Whether it be a run, a hard bike ride, or most recently, a weight lifting session, the flood of endorphins I get usually is enough to stabilize me through the rest of the evening.

I eat dinner, maybe watch some baseball, and retire to my quarters by approximately 10 pm, where I read some more before lights out.

Rinse and repeat.

I used to have a reputation of being a mean, manipulative, cold-hearted bastard when I wanted to be.  If I believed I was wronged, the opposing party would pay the price -- and I didn't feel bad about doing it.  I would rather encase my heart in ice and inflict pain on the other person than allow myself to feel the hurt that they were inflicting on me.  It saved me a lot of heart-ache over the years, and also probably made me look like a prick a lot of the time.

About a year and a half ago, I somehow lost the ability to do this.  Now, I feel every last ounce of heart-ache that is inflicted on me.  I have no ability to put up a wall and go cold.  On the contrary, I am full of emotion.  Maybe, it's because this time the thing that is inflicting the heart-ache actually means something -- I don't know.

For the time being, I will keep self-medicating.  Since this is supposed to be a blog about training, I will say this:  I am motivated, if for no other reason, to keep my mind busy.  Unfortunately, I find myself getting the biggest adrenaline shot from that one Gotye song when it comes through my headphones these days.

To Max and Kyle, if you think that I am the most pathetic piece of shit on the face of the earth, I am.  Whatever.
--Ant
And P.S. If this is Austin...