In the wake of vacation after the long-term focus on training for the 15k, and throwing the Velocity Diet a couple extra days’ worth of hiatus, I’ve wanted to try and get bigger. This is partly a conscious change in result-oriented focus, and partly a way to keep from getting bored.
I don’t have any illusions about this – I’m a middling distance runner, I don’t have any expectations of being a head-turner (tattoo notwithstanding), either; it’s just a matter of wanting to be happier with how my body feels and works and looks.
I’m also trying to add more “big fish” to the pool as a way of pushing/challenging/inspiring myself – the guys at work almost all look up to me as the fittest guy they know, so there’s not as much opportunity for me to look around and say, “I want to be able to do what so-and-so can do” as someone trying to push themselves needs.
I’m obscurely aggravated when the other folks in my periphery comment on how hard I’m kicking my own ass. “Well, no shit. That’s how you get better/stronger/whatever-er.” Argh. Yes, I’m glad it’s noticed. Maybe I should be either less approachable, or more demanding as far as, “If you want to talk to me while I’m obviously trying to work hard, I want you to work hard (for appropriate values of “hard”) to earn my attention at this time.” Maybe that’s too much akin to T-Nat’s elitist mentality, but…. *sigh*
At the end of the day, muscle still burns more calories than fat, so building more of what I want to have will, hopefully, help melt more of what I don’t.