Major and Marginal Meliorations in My March Machinations

After bad ass and boss blogger Sorryless said he was starting his New Years resolutions on February 1, and with the spring equinox approaching, I decided to renew my vows so to speak and add more to some of my many healthy habits. I’m pleased to report, for those who care to read about and take whatever inspiration they may from them, that I succeeded by accomplishing all four objectives. That’s what’s up with what one person said was a lifestyle blog. Who me? An influencer? I hardly know her! (Ha! That’s an old Vaudevillian comedy trope.) Let’s get right to the details of what I did and some tips on how you too can add some healthy habits, if that’s your jam. Or preserves. Or other type of tasty fruity spread. Anyway, yeah, I did some stuff and it wasn’t that hard, either. Kind of like how George Costanza on Seinfeld claimed he was the architect who designed the addition to Guggenheim. Yes, exactly like that.

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Do Fitness Trackers Have a Dark Side? The Exercise Strikes Back

Unless you’ve been living under Iraq and haven’t read my stuff before, you know I got into using a fitness tracker at the same time I began this blog. A look at my list of post titles will show many with numbers of miles I’ve ridden the day before, that week, month or year. And while my Garmin vivoactive 3 music watch and the Strava application have certainly helped motivate me and keep me accountable, there are also some negatives. Aside from the data and privacy concerns, who’s the servant and who’s the master? Welcome to the Dark Side, Luke. And by Luke, I mean you.

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Why Are Exercises Called Activit-Ease When They’re So Hard?

I joke, but it’s true. Exercise is work. That’s why it’s called a work out. Used to be, you could only do it outside. Then some lazy people said let’s invent air conditioning, and then the exercise fanatics said let’s work in. But that term never caught on so they called them Jim Nayseeums. To not embarrass their founder, they spelled it differently, to make people think it was the Greeks. Oh, I’m just being told that is really was the Greeks. Never mind.

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How Are Your Pool Workouts Going, Dude? Splendid, Sublime, and Swimmingly!

Thick white fog hung over the East Texas lake early that sultry, steamy summer morning. The ground clouds mirrored the layer of gauze of sleep over my still slumbering eyes. We’d been awakened at the butt crack of dawn a bit too gleefully by the Scoutmaster or one of his slightly sadistic and sycophantic Scout leaders. It was the Big Day. The one we’d been dreading, anticipating, and otherwise talking about all week. It was time for mission impossible: the Mile Swim.

Slowly our shivering selves made our way to the shore, shedding shirts, shoes, and sleepy heads. Safety spelled out in a speech, suddenly it was sink or swim and shut the hell up time. The rest is mostly a blur, but somehow I and most of my Scout siblings, suffering silently in solidarity, finished the damn thing. One thing is crystal clear though: there were some alligators in that water. I swear I shit you not… seriously!

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