It's Not My Fault Being the Biggest and the Strongest. I Don't Even Exercise.

I don't lift anymore.

Now, if you told me that five years ago. 

I wouldn't believe you.

I'd say, "That means I'm no longer on this timeline."

And that would be true.

Kinda true.

Almost.

I used to call lifting weights "training."

In that I'd say, "I gotta go train."

Which confused some normal folk.

Silly normal folk.

Train for what?

Nothing.

Just something I do.

But that's what I called it.

I didn't lift iron because I loved it.

Even though I did.

I lifted because I had to take the edge off.

Do you know what I mean?

I had so much fire and fury that I had to spend it on something.

Expend it.

If I didn't, I would explode.

The gym was my sanctuary.

A place I would go to worship, oddly.

A spiritual place.

I would blast my ear drums with special playlists.

My ears thank me today for that.

Thanks, Al.

But I no longer train.

Due to many reasons.

Age.

Near death experiences.

And, strangely, the fire's dimmer.

You could call it getting old(ish).

I'd like to think it's wisdom. Wissmart.

But it's because my body doesn't like lifting anymore.

Or at least right now.

I've punished it for many decades.

It's time to do what it asks.

It's the least I can do, after getting me through all I put it through.

Like an old car you treated like crap, but loved every day.

I built up a suit of armor because I wanted to protect myself.

I suppose there are better ways to do that.

If you'd have told me I don't train anymore, I would have called you a liar.

You might still be one, but not on this.

⛰

"Look, are you just fiddling around with me or what?"

"I just want you to feel you're doing well."