My heart is beating hard and fast as I type this. I am in the middle of doing exercise and am taking the time between sets to write a little here and a little there.
After the first set of today’s exercise, which is chin-ups, I found I was hungry (initially typed decided instead of found, still dunno why.) Talk about bad timing. As it is getting late for me, and I have only a little while to exercise and do everything I want to do, including write this, I say the hell with it and eat. That was perhaps the fastest bowl of cereal I have ever eaten.
It’s a little bit after 10 pm, and I am doing sets of 10 chin-ups. I’ve done five sets so far, in about 10 minutes. I’m not trying to set records either with the amount of chin-ups I do, or the amount of time I do them in. Wife is giggling at me, saying this is hella multi-tasking, writing and exercising at the same time. I tell her that’s what I’m writing about. She giggles again.
It is very difficult to type right after doing chin-ups. My fingers don’t want to move the way I am asking them to. Typos a plenty. I miss keys, type the wrong thing, type in extra letters not meaning to… at a far greater rate than normal. The word late isn’t supposed to have a semi colon in it, and the word wrong does not have an I in it, but you would not have known that I knew that, looking over my shoulder as I was typing just a moment ago.
60.
I spent the time before I started doing the exercise and the eating writing more stuff in the long form running story I’m writing on the “Story of the month” page. I’m up to 6,000 words. I haven’t read it. It is probably crap, but it’s my crap and I like it.
I think.
70.
After my 7th set, I am wondering if I’ll have it in me to do 3 more sets. Not as in actual capacity, 100 chin-ups is not that hard to do over time, it’s wanting to do it, and within forty-five minutes of going to bed.
Oh hell, now I have to. Can’t sit here and say I can do 100 chin-ups after doing 70, without doing the other 30, even with my stomach muscles bothering me. I did something to them. Whenever I cough, I double over in pain, and I can feel them, feel the soreness in them when I start running.
80.
Typing is hard. Especially when you beat your fingers by doing chin-ups right before typing. More properly put, chin-ups + typing = exercise in futility. 
I’ve been reading books on putting together a novel, how to work out characters, how to focus on creating them properly. It sounds a hair more complex than I had initially thought, though doable. Complexity won’t stop me from writing a book, or just much longer form stuff than I write here. And I am not sure if I want to write fiction or non-fiction. I could do both. My grandfather’s story sounds fascinating, and I could do that.
90.
I could try for 120. But I won’t. I think.
100.
That feels good. Almost as good as getting the run story to 10,000 words will feel. I honestly wonder how long I can make it last. Like I said, I’m 6k words in, but what I didn’t say is that I have described less than half of the 6 miles run that I am writing about.
Having fun with it, even if it sucks, even if typing is hard.
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That’s it from here, America. G’night.
