(Day 156 / -91 lbs.) Blankity-blank-blank... Er, I mean, "Ouch!"

Geeze! I was limping like Festus Haggen yesterday. It seems I overdid it doing calf raises Monday and tweaked the crud out of my foot. I thought I was going to need a wahmbulance!

OK, a bit of exaggeration on my part. It did hurt and still does to a lesser degree today- but man-oh-man I had to baby it yesterday. No doubt I decided work around the calf raises this morning at the gym. It was still a pretty good workout and I was able to incorporate some other exercises I read about in Men's Health with the extra time.

So here's the thing; a what point do I stop? When do I quit? What is it going to take to make me abandon the path of self-improvement?

I once had a summer job that didn't require a lot of energy or attention. It was part of a scholarship program for engineering students at a new facility out in the middle of nowhere- or about 40 miles outside of a nowhere town in the vast expanse of the Wyoming high desert. Because it was a new facility just beyond the break-in period of production we had very little to nothing to do. Our days consisted primarily of driving around the site and taking pictures and generally just farting around (aka “busy work”).

I want everyone to know that I was and remain forever grateful to the large and powerful multinational corporation that provided me with such a lucrative summer job and generous scholarship money. The company was very helpful at a time when I needed it. All HAIL!

It was a cake job- and fairly dull most of the time-- a dullness that was countered by extracurricular partying with my coworkers. Partying all night. Every night.

It really took some conditioning and I'll admit that having fun all night long is strenuous and unforgiving. Just a month into the summer, the bags developing under my eyes had their own set of luggage and I found myself having a hard time making it through the day. I went from farting around during the day to power-napping; which is totally uncool no matter how “cake” your job is.

Well, one night I asked my coworker how she managed to maintain her seemingly endless amount of energy. “Don't you need to sleep sometime?” I asked in between shots of Jägermeister. She then introduced me to an oft-used misnomer I, myself, have used many a time since. “Sleep when you're dead!” she said and dragged me to the dance floor.

I'll never forget what I saw the next day when I walked into her office at the end of our shift. My party-all-night coworker sleeping in a puddle of drool at her desk. Not dead, just dead-tired.

The rest of the summer included generous razzing and a little less party.

Now back my questions.

1. When do I stop? Answer: Never stop, only adjust.
2. When do I quit? Answer: I'll quit when I'm dead.
3. What is it going to take to make me abandon this path of self-improvement? Answer: See #2 above.