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100 Days of Exercise

In September, I decided to start exercising regularly. Again. And keep at it. Last time I managed to exercise regularly was something like 2008-2010, or around there, before I got bronchitis. I’ve tried lots since, but always skipped weeks because of vacations or holidays or summers, and never managed to make a habit of it.

This time, though, I was annoyed enough, and tired enough of feeling uncomfortable, that I was determined. I decided to exercise 2-4 days a week–depending on grocery shopping, days off, appointments, etc. So mostly 3 or 4 days. And I decided, at least to start with, I would post a pic to facebook, and number they days I exercised. I originally thought I’d do that the first month or so, but I found it encouraging, so kept posting. Plus, I included comments about what all’s been going on here, which I’m generally bad about talking to anyone unless they’re right in front of me, or initiate conversation themselves.

On Thursday, I got to 100 days of exercising on the treadmill.

  • Day 1–taken while walking on the treadmill
  • Day 100–taken after the treadmill stopped

Since September, my bloodwork has improved–except my triglycerides, which have always been an issue–my endurance is better, and my resting heart rate is lower. I did lose a little weight (and no, it’s really not something you can tell by looking, those pics aren’t a good comparison for that), but that was overall just what I’d gained last year, not much more. And really, weight loss isn’t the main goal, aside from getting back to feeling comfortable in my body, it’s more of a side effect bonus. It won’t really happen until I add in exercise that’ll strengthen muscles, because experience tells me that’s where I start to see any actual difference.

Last year to April 10 this year. The gain is March through September, then drop, then the up and down is from weighing after work/lunch on Mondays and before food on weekends.

I will add in strength exercises, once my room has enough floor space, which will hopefully be before the weather gets too warm, since heat/humidity will keep me out of the basement, and my room will have AC. And sometime in the future, I wanna get a ballet barre and a bit more room in the basement, cause I miss moving in ways that are more fun and feel less like work.

Today’s not 101, because grocery shopping.

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Words fade away

So. I wanted to write again. I started a couple different stories. I wrote a few snippets in the world of my urban fantasy novel. I did another read-through and polish pass of said novel. I might’ve broke about 5,000 words total. I didn’t do the math when I was looking. Right now, I’d rather not.

I know why I haven’t written. It’s an issue I’ve been struggling with pretty much since I finished the novel. See, thing is, I think it’s good, and I know the first third is pretty decent–I’ve had several people read that and give me feedback. Past that point, though, I’m really not sure how well it works. If there’s anything boring, or unclear, anything that I know because I know the story but didn’t actually put into the novel for the readers. I can’t get anyone to read the middle and the end.

Yeah, Rob’s read it through, but that was pretty much because I had to practically guilt him into it. He still says he’s not the right person to give me feedback, and if I ask for help, he either doesn’t respond, or he agonizes over it for so long that I get annoyed and go away.

None of this is very encouraging. I mean, if I can’t find beta readers to read past the beginning, why should I expect that an agent would want to, or an editor, and for that matter, why would I ever expect anyone to actually pay to read the book?

I know there are other options, aside from asking for people to read. Critique groups and critique partners aren’t something I’ll commit to. Small part because I’ve pretty much never had a good experience with critique groups, but largely because they’re a give and take–they read my work and give critique in exchange for me reading theirs and giving critique. I won’t promise something that I won’t follow through on, and considering that I’ve only just remembered this thing and reset the password so I could actually log in, not really a good idea for people to expect anything like that from me.

I tried to find beta readers for two years, and then I pretty much gave up. Problem with that is that it causes enormous self-doubt and undermines any attempt I might make at writing a query. Especially for an urban fantasy, which at the moment, I know is a hard sell. And it undermines my ability to make myself put words down on paper, until I have something else finished.

There are still moments where I have near manic moods where I want to write–had one earlier today–but when I have pen and paper in front of me, none of the ideas coalesce into anything that wants to be words. I know this is a consequence of not having written for so long, but that doesn’t make it any less disheartening.

I’m still trying; I’m still putting some kinda words down, like these, even if they don’t make a story. They’re still words, and that’s the important part.

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Pages turn

Yesterday, I went through numbers for 2018–words I wrote, hours I spent researching or worldbuilding or reading through for revisions, books I read–and I was a bit mixed about the results.

I read 91 books–technically less, because that includes comics and graphic novels, short stories, and novellas. I’d say something around 20ish fall under those categories, and some were audiobook rereads. I don’t have the numbers nearby, but as is normal for me, more women than men, though I didn’t look at how that broke down by single author–I read lots of books in series. Overall, that’s 20 more than 2017.

Writing wise, that’s not so good. I wrote all of about 9,100 words. Both the number written and the hours I spent on revisions and research and all was down from 2017, which was also greatly down from 2016. Yeah, I spent quite a bit of time polishing one novel and reading through a previous draft for potential rewriting, but I had a rough year and overall didn’t write much. Likely why I read so much more.

I know I can do better–in 2015 I wrote just under 81,000 and just over 51,000 in 2016. But I’m not berating myself. 9,100 is still words written, even if it’s not what it could’ve been.

This year, I’m going to attempt to write outside my comfort zone and see how I can do at writing romance. Or at least paranormal romance, since that fits into the sorta urban fantasy subset that I prefer. I’ve read quite a bit, though nowhere near extensively, and the most challenging thing I’ve found so far is that I’m not sure where to start looking for any helpful info. And it’s been so long since I began looking into SF/F that I don’t even remember how I got started there. It just kinda happened.

Hopefully I’ll finish one of the many, many, many different stories I’ve started, or maybe completely write something new. We’ll see.

(second blog post this year–already an improvement over the past.)

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And the rain falls

I’m starting the new year sitting in the dark, Skittles asleep beside me on the bed, watching Hercules and listening to the rain.

The past couple years have been something of a roller coaster, for a large variety of reasons that I’m not going into for just as many reasons, but suffice to say that I’ve done what I always do when I grow quiet–I watch and I listen and I learn. I’m still trying to figure out how I’m going to do things moving forward, but I think I’ve been silent enough and it’s more than time I remember my voice.

Have a cute Skittles picture.