윤

I’ve suddenly lost interest in running. She says she’d “betcha” have more endurance than the president, quotes Plato and wears Asics. Well, Sarah Palin and my stubbed toenail. The podiatrist will hopefully have an answer for me Thursday. One from the rest of the world, I’ll wait on.

With each lap around the track I still look up at the sky hoping it isn’t hypoxia and that cloud really is one of their ships. But maybe I’m too old now, got too much at stake, etc., to join the resistance and make a difference. Though the concept, as far as I’m concerned, cannot be exploited enough: I always thought an alien invasion would make a great better backdrop for a Street Fighter sequel, and am up for a remake that makes me question my loyalties.

So we were all wrong about that overnight detox (including, it seems, the resident head of oncology and diagnostic genius); if House’s writers treat his psychiatric care like they did his time in rehab, then I’ll re-classify it again, from sci-fi to comedy. Though that shot of Kutner was downright creepy, like Dave Bowman appearing in 2010. Human eyesight being continuous and all, even during hallucinations, I’ve always wondered why directors cut back and forth for the effect.

My dysplastic hip is acting up, despite the hyaluronan injections last fall, but instead of shopping for a cane with flames on it, I decided to run yesterday. I want to live! (Let this serve as damages testimony if there’s ever the need to value the use of my body in this capacity for a future personal injury suit.) Didn’t hurt in the least, even into my fourth mile. Strangely it only does when I’m in sedentary サラリーマン mode, like the pelagic shark that’d asphyxiate if not in constant motion.

I’m down now 30K calories vs. ounces, no matter how much I run (and next week’s release of pure-cane Mountain Dew won’t help), so I’m augmenting my regiment with the occasional ride. I think what I like so much about these waterways is how their network of thoroughfares remains for the most part unpolluted like the streets it quietly runs alongside. There’s a world of difference even from the short trip to the office. I’m not passed up by an Expedition burning a gallon of gas because I didn’t feel like flooring it off the light, don’t have to care about who’s parked where or have to drown out the voices in my head telling me to run myself off the road for driving to work everyday with only slightly less ridiculing ones on the radio. Then again, the risk remains that I’ll be hit by flack from a chase between time-traveling killing machines. Or worse.

…unless I bump my “IMAGES” one again, which’ll make it one less. No wait, that was last updated in December. And since I tire of restricting entries to single topics, here’s the month-end wrap-up:

Cartoon Network’s The Brave and the Bold, which doesn’t make me forgive them for cancelling Justice League, but almost does, as long as they keep ’em coming with scenes like last night’s “Brain vs. brawn” that must have been inspired by Doom Patrol’s; beats Battlestar Galactica’s season-filling politics, that’s for sure
Two months into my fitness program, I’m 13,782 calories behind and my Nike+ sensor just died
That awesome giant shoe (really, Reuters, an “Oddly Enough”?), like something out of Monty Python or Hitchhiker’s Guide, went up then came down, quickly dashing the chicken hawks’ predictions of monuments to Bush in Iraq
Grant Morrison’s crisis is finalized; Batman may be the shit, but Superman is God. Again
Fuck the $100 wireless adapter, I got sharing to work, and the Xbox 360 lives again—well, for as long as people supply me with codes for free months of Live
윤대섭 is a septuagenarian today

It’s been longer since I backslid than I stayed dry, but the effects of my daily vice are undeniable, so my latest undertaking is to run off all (and only) those calories, as determined by the Nike+ counter:

[Update: That “CALORIES TO BURN” formula should be =E3-B3+F2, not =E3-F2, wtf was I thinking. A subconscious attempt to cook the books?]