A Lamentable Case

Well! So far all my struggles are for naught. I have neither straightened up nor flown right; I am fat as a goose prepped to provide foie gras; I am impotent, anxious, tired, and unkempt. My beard straggles and my hair lurches over my collar. A lamentable case.

On the other hand, I am more or less over my cold (how can you really tell, when you’re so systemically inflamed?) And I should be able to take up exercise again. Start over again. Again.

Saturday! Without a meeting with Jarrett, who is in Mexico City. So all the day’s resources are free. We can do what we like.

I think we may need to stage all these changes, Monsieur le Favier. Pressure at all points is not working here: it’s only making you fretful and petulant, and threatening even those things that were secure (morning back exercises and broccoli, for example. Heaven knows back trouble is not going to help you at this point, you foolish old Hechicero.)

The constant stream of appalling political news does not help, of course. But presumably that’s a constant from now on: if things get better eventually, it’s unlikely to happen during my lifetime. So forget about the daily news. If you think about political life at all, think long-term. Think of what needs to be cultivated that can be passed on to future generations, so they can build someday. Not habits of outrage and rumination, that’s for sure.

Recall, my dear Lord of All Creation, that you are not yet retired: you have no more time or resources at your disposal than you have had these last twenty years. So maybe ratchet back the expectations a little?

There is something missing from the program, and that missing thing, maybe, is company. Maybe you need someone to read the Phaedrus with. Alas that Portland State has no Classics! What the hell kind of university has NO classics department? That’s nuts. But anyway. All in good time.

For the moment, I think we need to set a schedule and timeline for this restoration-and-improvement program. And the first projects, quite obviously, are the intertwined projects of re-establishing our exercise and re-establishing our food regimen.

Note well, young Favier, that it will only take two or three days of eating sanely to feel much better. You won’t get skinny in a couple days, but the inflammation will subside, as will the self-disgust, almost immediately. You won’t have to fly right for months and get to 170 lbs before you feel better. You’ll feel better almost at once.

So I think this is the February project. Eating and exercise. You already laid out in detail the eating. Just follow that, and track your numbers. Two weeks from now you’ll know if you need to change something. (Change the meal timing slightly, though, to a 12:30 lunch and a 5:30 dinner; the former times were too early.) Ask Martha to hid the candy dish.

And now, we just restart the exercise program, but with the reps set back by ten or fifteen percent. We are not focused on gaining strength or muscle bulk at ALL, right now. We are just restarting our program, and it would be fine if the reps were cut in half. In fact, it might even be wise to start with extravagantly reduced reps. Say two thirds. If that really leaves lots of slack, we’ll take it up soon enough.

So February is the diet-and-exercise project. Nothing else needs to happen this month. March can be the month in which I open a second intellectual front, or quit all social media, or whatever it is I do next.

This would have worked last time, if I hadn’t come down with that cold, if Martha had not done her Colorado trip, if she had not been so anxious. It’s time to stop pretending her anxiety doesn’t affect you. It affects you deeply.

But my point at the moment is simply: there was nothing at all wrong with your program. That’s not why it derailed. So you’re not being Pollyanna, in trying to start over. It’s reasonable to expect it to work.

February 2025, the month of restoring the diet-and-exercise regimen. Go, sir.