I was pondering the nature of the hip/leg pain I've been experiencing. It's not the all out blow-up that the pain normally is, and I've been trying to parse out a strategy, read the signals of my body like tea leaves--soggy tea leaves rescued from luke warm green tea--in order to decide on what I should do next in respect fitness. There was a 48 hr lull between the last workout and inflammation. It seems cruel, unfair for pain to manifest thusly, all the while keeping myself in check, this isn't even really a short term solution, more of a desperate hobby until I find an insurance plan. I am experiencing something new though, a side effect to the pain. My brain may be catching on, releasing opiates to cope with the problem.
A few hours ago I was mulling over this development. I couldn't go to practice with a high pain level, but if I could keep the pain level between 1 and 5? And I was teetering towards the irrational. I could adopt a truly monastic lifestyle: condition, diet, practice, and pain. I am teetering towards the irrational, and diving headlong into Catholicism. Yes, you wil find me on page 235 of Butler's Lives of the Saints. between Saint Anna the twice told-virgin, who scrubbed her coochie with a brillo pad to honor the angel Gabriel's impregnation of Mary, and Saint Marcus Vitus who tied a boulder to his leg to show solidarity with those unable to make it into heaven because they they died before Jesus came along.
I'd be a perfect monk. I am acquiring an altered perception that comes from the rush of opiates. Don't worry I---wait, maybe you should worry. This appeals to me. But forget about all that celibacy crap; if Girlfriend dumps me, I'm going to Vegas and gettin' me some fancy shmancy escorts.
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