Thinking back I am pretty sure it was yoga which motivated me to begin a new exercise. Thinking now, yoga probably actually just reminded me of sex.

Anyways, a couple of years ago while doing a push-up I realized that if you modify the motion and rather than the straight up and down robotic motion you instead simulated sex and moved in a much more circular motion, then all of a sudden the work-out becomes much more intense (and, no, not just that way). And, not only that, all of a sudden it is alot better and eases any potential difficulty with your back or your joints. A year of two after this discovery was when "Spellbound" (a stellar documentary about a number of kids competing for the National Spelling Bee) made it's way around the art houses. In the film there is this one extremely motivated Indian kid whom they show doing push-ups. I remember after having seen this some people I was with remarked "What the hell is he doing?", while I was thinking about what a smart kid he was to know the advantages on your joints and on the potential strength of your muscles.

However, what has gotten me to thinking about all of this again is that throughout this week I have been spending more time in front of the mirror (mostly naked). I think this probably started from waiting around to go poo in the morning and being in my bath robe. That and because it is fun. That and because I am also a little self-obsessed. Whatever, so in the morning I do these stretches (primarily the Sun Salutation, but also others) to wake up my body from laying around and trying to maintain some type of flexibility. A while ago I also decided that it was probably beneficial as well to prepare your body in much the same way as when you wake up, right before you go to sleep. By being more active in the pre-sleep process I assume your sleep becomes much more deeper and restful.

Well, I was stretching and then I started doing some strange stretches and, there we go, I wind up simulating a sex act. Besides just being enjoyable I am realizing how much it is giving a work-out to parts of my body (not just that part) that normally don't get exercise, and then a stronger work-out to all the parts which do. Now the two things I surmise from this are:

1. I really need to be having more sex and more "open/free/loose" monogamous sex

2. I bet there is someone out there who has a full "mock sex work-out" they already have on the market or are preparing to unleash onto the world (not necessarily S&M-based though. un-"leash"! Ha!). I am under the assumption it won't catch on right now, but as with most effective ideas society generally takes quite awhile to catch up. But have no doubt, before my generation is dead "The Sexercise" craze will have taken off.

Funny sidenote: My friend Nate Byerley is now also known as "The Juice Pedaler". Why this has come into being is because he modified a bicycle-powered blender to be much more efficient and attractive. For this bike blender, there is a convenient attachment to your X-tracycle (a bicycle with an extension) and a kick-stand which allows smoothies, margaritas and the like to be but a spin away. However, as I was originally going to his beta website one of the other top sites (which had an amazing name which I now forget) had a most interesting design for sale. I will recap the video to better illustrate the concept. So, you have this woman (pornstar? maybe. fake boobs? for sure) who is nude and is wearing a bike helmet. She then proceeds over to her bike which has a rather odd-shaped seat. It seems someone left a dildo attached to the seat. Well, she decided the best idea involved her just mounting the seat anyways and going for a ride. Let me tell you, it was quite a ride.

Poop!

--daimian

Orange juice. Now being from Florida I was surrounded by orange juice. From the groves around Orlando to the offer of free fresh-squeezed orange juice at every roadside attraction (full of all types of pecan logs, fresh florida honey, gator heads, shark's teeth and 3 for $10 t-shirts), orange juice seems to be part of Florida's identity. Thinking about all of this reminds me how odd it is that the primary place orange juice still holds a lore for me is in my memories of a Cuban/Miami breakfast. Now, as I am not so much an egg man (the smell turns me off), I am generally not prone to love a diner breakfast, so where my true love lies is in the memories of my youth in Miami. See, for awhile there when I was younger my family actually lived in Miami, and then all throughout my youth we kept coming back. Miami really is a beautiful place when you wind up on the beach, or on a boat drinking rum and cokes with key limes watching the sunset over the city. There is even a full community that used to be thriving in Miami bay called "Stiltsville". Born from all of the boaters in the area, Stiltsville was a number of houses and stores and a community that literally lived at sea. Now it seems there is only a bar left kept in business by all of the boating traffic.

However, the Cuban breakfast was one of my most significant memories, but, of course, whenever you are in middle school and get to have fries with breakfast it is hard not to be significant. But Cuban breakfast didn't only have fries, there was the fresh squeezed orange juice, guava and cream cheese pastries, plantains, cuban bread with butter, batidos (milkshakes, with my favorite consisting of cereal grain), and the wonderfully strong cafe con leche.

Now I am back in fresh-squeezed orange juice land; made by hand with my new juicer. Yummy! My stomache is still in the beginning of freak-out mode ("What, you think you can ignore my ass for a week and then I will just let your punk-ass back in?!") and is a littler gurgly, but mostly okay. I guess the intent of the orange juice (and I am still a bit confused by why orange juice specifically) is to start the digestion process extremely solely by first stimulating your previously dormant system with subtle new vitamins and liquids.

Thanks to Tony, I guess I will have to try some grapefruit (which is amazing if sweet, and traumatic if bitter).

Well, poop out!

--daimian