I'm not much for superstition, but I'm all for bragging, and bragging is easier when you can prove you've exceeded expectations. Even when they're your own. I'm also a big fan of guilt, shame, and fear as motivational tools. So for all these reasons and more, welcome to this year's edition of Cormac's New Year's Resolutions for a 12-Month Span Roughly Equivalent to 2008!

First up, this year(ish): fitness.

I've let things slide a bit in the last 12 months. Quite a bit, actually, so just getting back to where I was will do.

1. Weight: 165 or less
2. Bench Press: 210+
3. Mile: 5:45

Here's the trick: I have to hit all three targets in the same week. The mile, actually, will be the toughest one for me. I am just not a fast runner at all. And yeah, I know 5:45 isn't exactly speedy, but "baby steps," people. Baby steps.

While I'm at it, let's throw in:

4. Hand stand

Just because.

Moving on, a very conservative target:

5. 6 open chords on the guitar

That should be enough to establish a baseline so I can get interested enough to keep playing. Also on the creative tip, but somewhat less conservative:

6a. One full-length play, submitted to a festival or workshop

or

6b. One pilot, submitted to the person to whom you submit pilots

plus

7a. Three short stories, submitted to journals / magazines

or

7b. One novel, submitted to a publisher of some sort

That's it for now. We'll see how that goes. Updates coming in a month or so.

Posted by at 7:40 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

Three weeks ago, it was 109 degrees inside my house. Right now I'm huddled under blankets and the roof is leaking winter rain. So much for summer.

It's not all bad, though. Autumn and Winter bring LA's only rain. Unlike the rest of the universe, LA comes alive in October and dies in May. I'm not all that different. Maybe it's the school year routine I haven't quite shaken, but the Fall has always been a good time for me to get things going. Not one to break a streak, I've signed on for yet another improv class at ACME, as well as their sketch writing lab. Both very interesting, and tremendously different. Couldn't be any less alike, in fact. Even my JOUST! posse is split down the middle. Ah, well. We'll always have movie nights and the Mexico party house, kiddos....

So classes are tiring but good, with shows a few months down the line, and while I'm on the self-improvement kick, it's time to get back into physical shape, too. First order of business: reining in the diet. According to our good friends at Apex fitness, makers of the world's bomb-assiest (that means "good") vitamins, I get to eat about 2400 calories and still lose weight. Sometimes, being a guy is great. Actually, being a guy is usually great. We pay for a lot more dates, but in the end, I think we still get the good end of the deal, so I shan't complain. Unless I find a better log, I'll probably use Fitday again, because free is good, and I can always plug in info from Calorie King.

Posted by at 1:40 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I'd like to take a moment to talk about a dangerous trend. A trend that threatens to destroy everything that is good and just and right about this country. A trend that could well topple our cultural hegemony and eliminate our last remaining shreds of dignity. I'm talking about the erosion of a precious national resource--calves.

I live in Los Angeles. I used to be a personal trainer. I don't say "curves" or "healthy" when I mean "fat." I am not, in any sense, a cheerleader for unreasonable jiggle. So trust me when I say that the world has gone completely crazy.

Exhibit 1: I'm at the gym, and a thin, fit woman turns to her moron trainer and says "I need to get rid of THESE." She then points in disgust to her calves, which are slightly more than a blip, but just slightly. The woman was running maybe 14-15 percent bodyfat, which, for those of you on the outside, is roughly the skinniest of The Pussycat Dolls. So not exactly beefy. The trainer responded with a "Sure, we can get rid of that. Don't worry. It's all about patience." No, you moron, it's about being able to point your toe.

Exhibit 2: Asian (particularly Korean) women are cutting their calf muscles and having to relearn to walk properly in order to have thinner, "more Caucasian" legs.

And what are the Caucasian legs they're looking for? A Vietnamese news site has, for reasons beyond the comprehension of any online translation service, provided us with all the answers we could ever need. Let's examine some of the lowlights:

* Angelina Jolie: Beautiful from the neck up, certainly, but her legs look malnourished.
* Cameron Diaz: Pretty woman, but her legs, while slightly closer to human, are still barely functional and not at all attractive.
* Kate Bosworth: Yes, she was once a babe in Blue Crush, but now she's all shriveled up and looks like a corpse.

I'm not unreasonable. I'm not looking for Rosie O'Donnell gladiator calves (no link there--you can find that on your own time, if the need strikes). Just something that says "I eat enough to be able to move." Like Lucy Liu or Jessica Biel or, I dunno, maybe 95 percent of the world that isn't living in hunger and abject poverty?

Please, people. Shave your heads. Get tattoos. Pop pills. Whatever. Just leave the calves alone. STEP AWAY FROM THE CALVES.

Posted by at 11:49 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

14 miles-done. Hip flexors-ow. Running-still not fun.

That said, I feel better than I did after 8 miles a few months ago, so that's progress.

Other notes:

• Weird craving for pierogis and kielbasa with fried onions and cabbage at around mile 5.
• I really need to stretch my hip flexors more. I've been ignoring my own trainerly advice.
• Arcade Fire was responsible for my fastest mile of the night.

Now off to a much-needed shower so someone other than my dog can love me again.

Posted by at 9:53 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

This weekend, my long run goes up to 14 miles (rough run plan here), and I'm not looking forward to it. This will be the first time I've passed the 13.1-mile half marathon mark--a plus or minus, depending how you spin it. Details to come, I'm sure.

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