skinny does not equal happy

i'm not really sure why i do this to myself. recently, i started working out again. and when i say working out, i mean getting up off the couch at least TWICE a day. Actually, i've started walking every morning, 3 miles. Now i've only been doing this for a few days, so i don't know if that even qualifies this whole exercize as exercize, but if it means actually leaving my desk, i consider it working out. now i'm only 34, so working out shouldn't be a problem, but it is. and why is that? have i lost all ability to do something in my life other than sit on my ass and be numbed by reality tv and pornography on the internet? well, no, but why can't it be an enjoyable road. what idiot phrased "...but it's a good kind of pain"? doesn't the definition of pain contradict the concept of 'good'? even the word sounds like it hurts. i blame my need to abuse myself like this on my parents. when i was 5, they started me playing soccer and i played for the following 22 years. i took a lot of abuse. broke a lot of bones. ran a lot of miles. being athletic was a great thing and even though i shouldn't, i still partially live in that joy and feel i should continue. and yet, i don't know why. i know i constantly struggle with the need to be in shape or stay thin. i eat moderately healthy and i only weigh about 172 lbs, which for a guy of 5'9" isn't bad, but it's not the 3.2% body fat i was back in high school or even 10 years ago. and again, i ask, why do i do this to myself? it's probably aliens, but i think i just thrive on the abuse i put myself thru. i also blame this on a friend that got me back into it. she's been running for the last 6 months and looks awesome. i no longer blame my parents, i blame her. tomorrow, it'll be someone else's fault, but today it's her. so until i find a reason to not get up off the couch, i'll continue to get up at 5:45 in the am and subject myself to this abuse.

i'll just finish off this package of zingers and head for the treadmill.