I had fun working out today. I started the new volume of the Asylum, and man, what a workout. It was so much fun and so challenging and it finally feels like I’m taking advantage of the agility ladder that came with the first volume of the Asylum. Some of the moves I have to do on the ladder are insane. I kept hitting the ladder because I couldn’t keep my eyes on the screen and the ladder at the same time, but once I got a handle on it, I was able to focus and work my body out properly. I’m going to enjoy this new workout because for one, they’re shorter. I won’t be doing double the work on a daily basis like I did last month, and two, every Sunday is rest day or stretch day, my choice. I’m looking forward to that, to resting on a regular basis. This four day break was essential since I feel great. The only body part still sore is my right ankle, and with all the hops and jumps and fast feet I did today, it might take a bit longer to heal. But that’s okay because I feel great.

It’s a new month, and for some reason, I always love these days. They’re kind of like a reset day, a day to shake off the last month and look ahead at the new one with fresh eyes. A month to do what needs to be done to advance toward becoming the person we all know we can be. A month to get rid of the bad habits and implement new and better ones. A month to simply take advantage of. So far, my day was pretty identical to my days from last month with two exceptions: I’m focusing on finally finishing transcribing the Great Gatsby by hand. I have less than 30 pages to go, which isn’t saying much since I started this project late last year. The second one is finally spending each night writing about the three things I’m most grateful for that happened to me today. I decided to use my previous journaling app Day One because it’s ubiquitous. It’s on my iPhone, iPad, and Mac, and it’s easier to type it out because then right after I start writing my blog entry. They go together nicely, and if we know anything about habits it’s that they work best if they’re paired with an already established routine. So every time I’m ready to start writing my blog entry, I open Day One and quickly write the three things I’m most grateful for then start writing my blog entry. It’s only day 1 of that, so lets hope this habit actually sticks.

Winter seems to finally be here for real now. Snow’s been falling for the past few days, making some of the roads to work a bit slick and dangerous to drive on. I’m glad I bought my SUV because she seems to handle these roads like a champ, and I feel safer driving. And I kind of like the cold. I like the whiteness of the snow and the fact that when I work out, with my shirt off and all the sweat that drips onto the floor, I steam. Steam literally emanates from my body, and that’s quite the sight. It’s cold on the outside, but I’m so hot on the inside. There’s something about that contrast that entertains me. It makes me feel good, and I like feeling good.

I like to daydream. I like envisioning a life where I’m the man I want to be, with the life I want to have, with the girl I want to love. I like running through take after take of pretend conversations or scenarios I may one day have with people, running through my lines until I find the right set of words I like and then peppering them into my real life conversations. Do we all do this? I’ve never asked anybody. There are times where no amount of daydreaming will prepare me for what life gives me.

I compare myself to other people, and most of the time, this act makes me sad. I always find some flaw in myself that this other person doesn’t have, and I enter into this bleak whirlwind of insecurity and resignation. I’m not as smart as this person, I’m not as strong as this person, I’m not as interesting as this person. It doesn’t matter if any of it is true or not because I still have that bit inside of me that won’t let me be content with who I am. It may be tiny, but it holds me back, and sometimes I succumb to my emotions and lash out at myself by drinking or not doing my work or shutting myself down and breaking every good thing I’ve built up in my life.

I want to say that that’s the old me. That I don’t do that anymore, but I don’t know for sure because today I compared myself to some guy that may or may not matter in the grand scheme of things. Instead of lashing out, though, I decided to hold it in and write about it tonight, and that’s what I’m doing. This is me lashing out, and I think — now that I’m writing this entry — that this is a good thing. It’s been over 80 days since my last drink, and I’ve been on a path to improve myself for over 80 days now, a path that I have not strayed from since I started this blog.

I don’t know the future. I don’t know how long I’ll be able to sustain what it is I’m doing, and part of me does care. If this can be my new normal, if this intensity for living never leaves me, then I’ll be happy. But the pragmatist in me knows that I can’t reasonably live my life this way forever. That’s why I’m so adamant on keeping and sustaining my habits and routines. As long as do small thing after small thing, day in and day out, then it’ll all add up to a life that can weather anything.

One of those small things must be accepting myself. I may not be the smartest or strongest or most interesting person in the world, but that’s okay. I don’t have to be any of those things. People can sense whether or not I like myself, and at that point it doesn’t matter who I want to be because who I am is someone that doesn’t deserve anybody. By accepting myself first, by loving myself first, then I’m opening the door for somebody else to love me, too. And that, in the end, is what I want.

I’ve been spending the past few days in bed and resting. I’ve left my house only twice: on Thursday for Thanksgiving dinner, and today to buy some groceries. Other than going to the bathroom, working out, making food, and writing in the mornings, I’ve spent my holiday break in bed watching television and reading. It’s been marvelous. I’ve been beating up my body too much for the past few weeks, and even though I’ve been working out harder than I ever have for over two months now, my body still gets sore, and I still need rest to recover. Tomorrow I do my Fit Test, which means I will be completing my 30 day Insanity/Insanity: the Asylum Volume 1 hybrid workout. That’s over 60 days of Insanity done. On Monday, I start Volume 2 of the Asylum, and from the looks of it, it’s going to be even tougher than what I’m used to. So again, I need all the rest I can get.

I’ve been doing what I kind of made fun of before, and that’s binge watching a television show on Netflix. That show is Scandal, and it hooked me in its pilot episode. I’m kind of embarrassed that I’ve been spending a lot of my time watching a television show — granted, a really good television show — instead of checking tasks off my todo list. I have two types of tasks, those are due and those that aren’t due but I’d like to get done today. I’ve been checking off the due items and totally neglecting the deferred ones. I’m okay with that because I know come Monday, come the first of December, the first day of a new month, I’m going to get back to work.

I needed a break. I needed some time off. I needed to rest and have some fun. To me, watching television is fun. It’s also very lonely. I chose to look through my journal yesterday because I was wondering how to start writing the three things I’m grateful for that I said I was going to do a few days ago. I was considering writing them down in one of three notebooks or in one of two apps. I skimmed through my journal because I was curious how different my personal entries were from my blog entries. And I fell down a rabbit hole of my own creation. Those entries were brutal to read, and it brought back memories I purposely tried to let go of since starting this blog. I miss her, but that’s natural. I just have to fill the void she left with someone else. And that can be fun, once I let myself get there. When that’ll be, I don’t know.

I still haven’t figured out where to write the three things I’m most grateful that happened to me today, and that’s one of the tasks I’ve pushed until tomorrow. I’ll be fine once I figure it out. In the meantime, I’m listening to some Sigur Rós, feeling good about seeing my words up on my screen, and very eager to get back to watching one more episode of Scandal. It’s a good show. Did I mention that?

I went back and read entries from my journal I wrote earlier this year. They date from April to July of this year, and I didn’t realize how much life happened during those three months. It’s about the same time I’ve spent on this blog, a bit less actually, and I know how much life has been lived during that time. There were so many entries that read like personal marching orders, ways to live a good and happy life, tips for being strong, to always smile, to be grateful I’m alive. I was clearly inspired by Marcus Aurelius’ book Meditations, a book that became my favorite book of all time when I read it earlier this year. But it also contained so much anger and pain and confusion because it involved her.

Like I wrote yesterday, life has its lows and its highs, and our relationship clearly had both. I read those entries, and I missed her and I didn’t miss her. I kept telling myself to move on from her, but then something good happened, and I wrote about how much I loved her. Later, I kept telling myself to move on from her again, but on the very next line I wrote about how much I still loved her. My last entry was the day I was called out to my first fire. I wrote about how this fire will be good for me because I would have been given the chance to leave her life for a bit, to give us some much needed space. On recollection, that fire lasted only 5 days. A few days after that, we had lunch together, and that was the last time I ever saw her.

I still think about her, and it’s been almost three months since I last communicated with her. The idea of getting back in touch with her has been weighing so much on my mind recently. In fact, it’s what hurt my focus a few days ago during my 86 minutes of Insanity. The idea of talking to her again hit me that day, and I’ve been struggling with it ever since. Should I? Shouldn’t I? I see no reason to get back in touch with her. In fact, I’m 99% confident that I should not get back in touch with her. But it’s that 1% percent that always gets me in trouble. I always root for the underdog, even if it’s not the best idea.

I didn’t want to write a whole entry about her again but nostalgia is a fucking bitch. I remembered everything that happened between us — the good and the bad — while reading my entries. I love writing, and I think I wrote some of my best stuff with these raw descriptions of our relationship. I remember holding her when she cried and told me she needed to let me go. I asked her if that’s what she wanted, that I would leave her if it was, but she said she didn’t know, so I told her I wasn’t going anywhere. I remember when I wouldn’t talk to her for a few weeks, how sad that made her feel, how I made her cry, and how sad I feel about that now. She finally confronted me about it later and we talked about it for hours. I remember that was one of the last times I ever hugged and kissed her. I remember the day before I left for Los Angeles, we had a date together, and we had the best time we’ve ever had in our lives. I held her and spun her around and she snorted because she was laughing so hard, and I asked her why I loved her so much, and she said that somebody has to.

Why is it so hard to move on? She hurt me, and I hurt her, and we’re not together anymore, and I think that’s how it should be, but then I have these memories of her, memories that make me happy and memories that hurt me, and I don’t know what to do. I started this blog because of her, and I’m 99% sure she’s never read it. It’s that 1% of me that wants her to, though, and that’s the part that always gets me into trouble.

I’ve never been the type of person who thinks about all the things I should be grateful for; instead, I think about what I don’t have. Not so much material possessions, but personal traits and characteristics or certain types of relationships or anything in between. I’ve known for a while now that being a grateful person is a fantastic trait to have to improve one’s health, and I even have a task in my todo list that says to write three things that happened today that I’m grateful for. It’s set to repeat every night, except that I’ve never implemented it into my nightly routine. I might change that tonight.

It’s Thanksgiving, and I’ve never written about or even thought about the things I’m grateful for on this holiday. One thing I’m grateful for is my health. I’m alive, and with every breath I take, I’m reminded how lucky I am to be alive. I haven’t been sick since February of 2011, almost 4 years ago. Every time I get a little tickle in my throat or a runny nose, I worry that maybe I’ll wake up the next morning with a full-on sickness. I haven’t yet, and I hope I didn’t just jinx myself. I’m grateful that I’m physically fit enough to even attempt let alone exceed with these tough Insanity workouts. Every morning I wake up and look at myself in the mirror and smile because I look okay. It’s not really the looks, but the way I see myself. That confidence wasn’t always there.

Up to a few years ago, I was the most insecure person in the world. I hated myself so much, and now I can’t even imagine inhabiting that mindset anymore. I’m grateful for my personal progress. I’m grateful that I’ve lost over 60 pounds in the past few years, and I’m grateful for all the extra energy that’s given my days. I’m grateful for having the courage to become a wild land firefighter in freaking Montana. And that I love being one so much. I love camping and exploring the natural beauty of the world and helping fight for its preservation and health every summer. I’m grateful for those three great summers and hopefully many more to come. I’m grateful for having found a job that pays me well and that provides me a strong intellectual challenge and mental satisfaction. I’m grateful for the people who helped me get this job, and all I want to say is thank you to them.

I’m grateful for all my friends and family. I may not be the easiest person to talk to or get along with, but I’m happy for everyone who’s stuck around. I’m grateful for everyone who decides to spend a few minutes of their time to read what I write. That literally brings tears to my eyes.

Life, no matter how hard you try to prevent it, will always have its lows. But it will always have its highs, too, and it’s those highs I’m most grateful for. They provide the fuel to my fire when it seems I’m all burnt out. They keep me going, and I’m only on day 81. I got a lot more life to live.

I’m lying in bed, utterly and completely exhausted. My body aches everywhere, and my mind wants me to fall asleep and rest. I can’t, and I want to cry. I have to write, I tell myself. I made a promise to myself, and I have to follow through on my word. Today, if you can’t tell from the URL, is day 80. I’ve written 80 god damn entries, and I don’t feel like I’ve done anything in them.

My performance during today’s workout was pathetic. I had to do Gameday, which is 60 minutes of pure Insanity. I’m really not joking there. That was just the beginning. Right after, I had to do Overtime, which is 13 minutes of full body strength, cardio, and plyometric workouts, as well as some more Insanity. I had to do this one twice, which meant I had a total of 86 minutes of working out, but it took me much longer than that since I took 5-10 minute breaks in between. Usually I’m pretty good about keeping up with Shaun T, but today I couldn’t. Today I was not feeling anything. I wanted to quit after the first 20 minutes of Gameday. My mind was just not in it.

Discipline and focus are a pair of words I always tend to repeat to myself, ever since I was younger. It’s one of those things where I knew if I was better at either one of them, my life would improve to the level I thought I wanted for myself. I was not focused today, but I was disciplined. I worked out for 86 minutes, but I didn’t push myself the way I know I am capable of. A lot had been weighing on my mind during the workout, and every few minutes it would hit me hard and stop me from working. I tried to push through, and when I tried, I had to almost scream to get my body moving. I clenched my teeth so very tight, and I could feel my face shake with emotion. It took everything I had to finish, like it’s taking everything I have to write this instead of falling asleep.

I don’t know what I’m doing. Is this even worth it? What am I doing? I’m screaming that inside to myself, and I don’t know. Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, and all I’m thinking about is fitting in my workout beforehand, as well as more of my other tasks. Why can’t I slow down and have some fun? I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m doing.

My journey toward something is now on its 79th day, and I don’t know what to write. I last spoke to her 80 days ago, but I don’t want to write about her tonight. I’m on Day 25 of my Insanity/Insanity: the Asylum Volume 1 hybrid workout, leaving me with just 5 more before I start the Asylum Volume 2 on the 1st of December, but I have nothing to say about that yet. The workout today was fine. Work was okay, a little slow, but I got some work done. Tomorrow I’m playing dodgeball with other faculty members. We’ll be battling the students, and it should be a lot of fun. Tomorrow is also my last day at work this week, giving me a 4 day weekend, which is great. I can’t wait. I’m reading American Lion by Jon Meacham, and I’m really enjoying reading about America’s 7th President. He was a badass.

For the past few days, I’ve tried promoting my blog to a few people online. One was a writer I really respect, who wrote a book called Delight is in the Details, which I bought a few months and read in one sitting. I really, really enjoyed it, and maybe you guys will, too. Another one was to the makers of my favorite todo list application, OmniFocus. My traffic didn’t go up that much, and I’ve heard no response by anyone, so I’m shrugging it off and moving on.

It did make me start thinking more about my blog, though. What am I trying to do with it exactly? Am I trying to use it as a vehicle for some sort of gig as an online writer? Or am I really trying to focus on my day-to-day life, trying to improve myself as much as possible, document my journey, and see where I go? The former seems appealing, but the latter seems right.

I don’t know if anyone reads me who doesn’t know me, and if you do, hi. But this blog may not be for you. This blog may not even be for my friends. This blog is for me. It’s a place where I can publicly acknowledge my failures, my successes, and my perspectives on how to live a good life. I have no idea what a good life is, or how to actually go into finding out. All I know is that I’m trying to do something for me. If that means I only have 1 reader for the next 286 entries, then so be it. I’ll consider my future then. In the meantime?

Today I learned that the harder I push myself, the stronger I get. I learned that I need to get a rug or else I’ll keep slipping on my floor from all the sweat I expel during Insanity. I learned that cooking a big ass steak takes a long time to cook. Finally, I learned that I’m a better writer when I’m writing for myself and not for anyone else.

I still wish I gave myself more time to review and rewrite my entries, especially with tonight’s entry. C’est la vie, I guess.

I’m full of contradictions. That, of course, makes me human, flaws and all. Every now and then I entertain the idea of pursuing perfection, but perfection might be the wrong word. Obviously, perfection to me will most definitely be different than what anyone else might take it to mean. What I mean by perfection is essentially being the best I can be in any given skill I want to learn. I want to be the best writer I can be, the best athlete I can be, the best reader I can be, etc., and that to me epitomizes the perfect life. A life well lived; a life well earned. I’m never going to get there, though, and that’s okay. The journey is everything, and like any good journey, there will be obstacles along the way. And one of those for me are my contradictions.

Earlier today, in an effort to be a bit more proactive with my blog, I wrote down an idea for an entry in my notes app on my phone. Actually, I dictated it while I was driving, which I don’t recommend, but I didn’t want to forget it. The idea, in full, was “Due dates for routines.” What does that mean? I’ll get there. First, I want to write something I’ve noticed about myself. I like freedom. Hell, I love freedom. I love being able to do whatever the hell I want whenever the hell I want. I don’t like feeling constricted, and, for the most part, I really don’t like being told what to do. As a writer, I’m best when I’m writing to discover. This produces long-winded and meandering stories or entries or whatever format I’m writing, but that’s okay. There’s always rewriting. I don’t like outlines because I’m not really writing. It could be another one of my flaws, but why constrict myself when I know myself and I know I don’t like outlines?

“Due dates for routines.” I really didn’t want to forget this idea because I thought I had a lot to say about this. I’m a pretty recent OmniFocus convert, seeing as I purchased the iPhone and Mac apps around February of this year. I’ve been using todo list apps for years, and I’ve been following GTD since around 2009. I knew my way around these type of apps, and I’ve developed a system that remained fairly portable through the years. I didn’t have a complex system, except that I assigned many tasks with due dates that weren’t technically due ever. They were just personal things I wanted to get done and due dates reminded me to do them. OmniFocus is different, though. They have two date fields: a due date and a defer date. A defer date is a way for me to assign a date to any of my tasks and that task will disappear from my list until that day rolls around. This is a powerful idea. I have hundreds of tasks in my OmniFocus database and seeing them all the time is paralyzing. So for those tasks that aren’t technically due ever but are just those things I’d like to get done eventually, I assign defer dates. All fine and well, right?

Many well-known OmniFocus users prefer this workflow. I do, too, to a limit. They recommend OmniFocus users to use due dates sparingly because if we don’t complete these “due” items on the day they’re due, we’ll feel guilty and hate ourselves and fall off the OmniFocus/productivity bandwagon and cry ourselves to sleep every night. If I assigned a due date to something and didn’t do it, I postponed the task for the next day or rethought the task and assigned another due date far off in the future or even just removed the due date altogether. I didn’t feel guilty about doing that. On the other hand, if something was due on a certain day, and I didn’t do it, then yeah, I would feel guilty. I hate feeling guilty so I do the damn task when it’s due. It is with this mindset that I use when I assign tasks with due dates, and most of the tasks I assign due dates to are my routines.

I have two contexts: Morning routines and Nightly routines. Every morning, I have a set of routines I have to do to be better. That includes writing my novel, meditating, learning, etc. And every night, I have another set of routines I have to do to be better. That includes reading, writing this entry, clearing and evaluating my day, etc. I have each task due at a certain time throughout my day. My alarm is set for 5 AM every morning, and my writing task is due at 5 AM, so I wake up already behind! Not really. When my alarm goes off, I have to grab my phone to turn it off. After I do, I see that my “Write novel” task is due since OmniFocus on my iPhone notified me of it. So I write because I have to to be better. An hour later, I’m reminded to take my vitamins. And so on and so forth. Same thing every night. My phone buzzes like half a dozen times every morning and every night, and that’s okay because I’ve allowed that to happen. And I think I’m better for it.

On one hand, I love the freedom of writing without borders, of living my life however the hell I want, but on the other hand, I yield my mornings and nights to an app that tells me what to do. Granted, I’m the one that told the app to tell me what to do and when, but still. It’s a contradiction, but one I’m oddly okay with.

As long as I’m always improving and always getting better, right?

Every day matters, because if you think about it, that’s when life happens. We don’t always seize every day, though, do we? We sit in front of our TVs and binge watch some show on Netflix; or we go out and get drunk and wake up the next morning with no idea what happened the night before and consider that living; or we procrastinate by sitting in front of our computers all day surfing the net with the vague notion in our minds that we’re doing “research” but instead spend god knows how many hours watching vloggers on YouTube rant about their day. Ironic, right?

A few years ago I came across the Japanese word Kaizen. In short, kaizen means continuous improvement. Toyota made it popular last century with how they built their cars, and once people started associating Japanese cars with quality and dependability and American cars as the opposite of that, American companies began adopting this philosophy, which they continue to use to this day with how reliable its been for them.

We can’t expect to wake up one morning and expect to be the best at whatever it is we’re striving for. We’ll only be disappointing ourselves, and instead of doing something about it, we don’t. We drift. Continuous improvement means incremental changes we actively focus on every day. Every. Day.

We all have our goals. We all want to be somebody better than who we are today. We want to be fitter, smarter, famous, etc. Instead of getting up one morning and running a 5k when we’ve never run a 5k in our lives, we should instead focus on building the habit of running. That could mean running down the block and back and calling it good for the day. The next day, we run down the block plus a few feet around the corner and back again. The next month we could be running a few laps around the block. Eventually we’ll be able to run that 5k no problem. That’s not where we should stop, though. One day, maybe we start our day with a 5k run as just a warmup because we’re training to run a 25k. Or an Iron Man competition. Or maybe we just wanted to build up our cardio so we could swim across the Atlantic or something.

The point is: we should do something to advance ourselves every day in some way. We should ask ourselves every morning how we can make today better than yesterday. Benjamin Franklin created a daily schedule where every morning he would ask himself, “What good shall I do this day?” And every night, he asked himself, “What good have I done today?”

I want to finish my novel, so every day I write 300 words toward accomplishing that. I want to be healthy, fit, and be able to take off my shirt and show off my abs. I’m not there yet, so I work out every day. I’m on a path to do over 200 days of fucking Insanity. I’m not fucking around. And I want to know myself better, so I write these introspective blog entries for the entire internet *ahem* all 3 of you *ahem* to read. I spend more time every day simply thinking about what I want to write every night, and that makes me more receptive to the subtleties of my life. Every thought is precious. Every moment is fodder for an entry. Everything I do matters, and that has changed my whole perspective on my life.

Sometimes I dread spending the last hour or so of my day writing an entry because sometimes I would rather go to sleep or binge watch a TV show on Netflix or go out and meet some people or watch vloggers on YouTube ranting about their day. But I don’t. I don’t because I know I have to make today better than yesterday in some way, and yesterday I wrote 300 words in my novel and worked out and wrote another 500+ words on my blog. I’ve gotta keep pushing myself further and further until I’m dead.

Until I’m dead, you guys. Until I’m dead.

Ugh, I have to write another one of these entries…

What the fuck am I doing exactly? Like some dead philosopher said, living an examined life. What the shit does that mean?

I used to see a therapist. This was back in college. I tried cutting my palm for some idiotic reason, and one of the best people I’ve ever met in my life, and one I’m super proud to still call my friend, got me help. That’s how I started seeing a therapist. In the beginning of my sessions, I barely talked. I tried talking, but I felt like I had nothing to say. I knew I needed some help, but I didn’t know how to accept it, I guess. Eventually I started talking. And talking. And talking. And I saw my therapist for about two years, all the way until I graduated. I grew up so much with her, and I almost never think about her. That makes me kind of sad. Last May, when I went back to LA for a few days, I hung out with my friend — the one I mentioned earlier — and we went to the USC campus. I hadn’t been there since I graduated back in 2008. While walking around, I saw my therapist. I didn’t say hi, and at first I didn’t even recognize her. But she recognized me. And neither one of us said a word to each other. We walked by as if we were strangers. It’s kind of sad, but she helped me examine my life and confront my demons head on. That’s how I’ve been living ever since.

I committed myself to write 365 entries. I’m not sure why I did that. I guess I wanted to force myself to confront myself on a daily basis, to ensure I’m living a good life, a life I need to work toward instead of passively living it. Every night I have to sit down and stare at my blank word processor and force myself to think about my day, about having something to say, and I do it. I write it. Recently, though, I’ve been yearning for more time. There have been entries I’ve written I wish I had more time with. Everything you guys are reading are first drafts, and what do we call first drafts? Shitty. I’m not sure if I’ll force myself to satisfy this yearning any time soon, but I just thought I’d reveal that, being as I’m trying to live a more examined life.

Is that pretentious? Am I trying to be something more than I am? I don’t know. Like, honestly, who am I to even try, right? Right? Like, I’m just some guy living in Montana trying to live his life. I have very few friends, with not a one up here in Montana, except for family. I spend all of my time indoors, except for when I need to make money and go to work. Writing fell on my lap during high school because I liked writing action stories. Stories about smart guys doing crazy things to do crime-y things. Then I wanted to be “serious” during college, so I wrote about Buddhism and sci-fi and my family. Now I’ve written a novel and am in the middle of rewriting it. I started the damn thing three years ago, and I’m still working on it. I’m single, alone, and damn sexy. Like seriously guys, I’m super sexy. Insanity is the real deal.

I don’t know where I’m going with any of this. I wrote about frustration a few days ago. I write about designing my life a lot. I try to work hard every day even when it seems like I’m not. I write about my routines a lot because that’s where the work really is. I did over 90 minutes of Insanity today, and I loved every minute of it. My injury from a few days ago no longer exists. I wrote 300+ words in my novel, and now I’m over 23,000 words into it. I eat well every day. I’ve prepared all my own meals every day for months now. I still feel lost, though. I’m not sure what I’m doing, and I’m not sure how much longer I can last writing my shitty first drafts.