Just Enough That It Hurts

Posted byrandy@letters-to-rachel.memorialPosted inAn Artificial You, Self Renovation, Updates From the Abandoned PlanetTags:, , , , , ,

Dearest Rachel –

They say that a single hour of working out every week can make a big difference in one’s life, health-wise. That may or may not be true – I do see the results after each visit, even if they are only temporary in effect – but they also suggest that the process is addictive in its own right, since it gives a certain rush of endorphins and dopamine each time you go and do it.

I’m not sure I believe it, necessarily, but I admit that it sometimes seems like a more productive use of my time than sitting around in my parents’ basement, testing out one LoRA after another. The community is developing these things faster than I can go through and look at how (and whether) they work.

Because, quite honestly, I have to go through a number of iterations to get a picture or two that’s worth keeping, and even then, there are times when the program just doesn’t work the way you’d expect it to. For instance, would you believe that this is supposed to be an animesque representation of you? I mean, yeah, it looks like you (although I don’t think you’d have ever been keen on wearing the high-leg cut of this swimsuit), but it’s almost photorealistic rather than in any sort of anime style.
By contrast, at least this looks like an anime (it’s based off of the work of Akemi Takada – yes, I’m still in the ‘A’s at this point), but while it definitely looks like a character from, say, Kimagure Orange Road, what it doesn’t look like, is you.
Working with Akai Riot’s style at least puts you in your element, and doesn’t look at all photorealistic. But it still doesn’t look very much like you, now, does it?
Meanwhile, I’ve at least figured out that when I’m using certain artists (this one is Yoshida Akihiko, for example), I literally have to spell out to the computer that I want an illustration, otherwise it comes out as a near-photorealistic image. And no matter how much I emphasize it, the images still don’t much look like you.
On the other hand, the Yoshitoshi ABe LoRA makes you look kind of like a haibane; and while the program makes you look an awful lot like Rakka specifically, with her messy hair, it’s not really that far removed from what you looked like in many of your photographs, when you come down to it. So, there are a few styles that really stand out as properly functional, but again, you wouldn’t believe how many times I needed to run it, and tweak the prompt description, to get it to come up with something that was even this close to looking ‘right’.

If nothing else, I wonder if my folks think I’m getting a little… obsessive about all this. Sure, there really are a whole world of possibilities out there, and I mean to see what you look like in as many of these as I can. But at the same time, I have to know when to call it a day, and walk away from the computer and everything on it.

And the best way to do that is this other commitment I’ve made to myself, to get myself in better shape, if only to better appeal to ‘Megumi,’ assuming she even exists. Besides, my morning routine has had to change – when I shower in the afternoon after working out, I feel like I don’t need to bother the following morning, but by the afternoon of the following day, there’s this sort of sense that I ought to wash up before evening, so I might as well give myself a reason to do so by working out. And so, what I originally intended to be a once or twice a week thing is quickly happening three or even four times a week (especially if you count those walks with Lars as a workout).

Now, that still doesn’t mean I like doing any of it; far from it. It’s just something that I’ve accepted as something that I need to do for myself. And maybe, there really is something to that assertion about that dopamine rush, especially when the scale tells me, before stepping into the shower stall, that it’s having an effect, at least for the moment.

But the process itself is nothing that I really enjoy. Basically, I’ve gotten into a routine of doing everything just long enough that it hurts, and then setting it aside and moving on to something else. Depending on whether the rowing machine is available or not, I may practice a few bench presses beforehand until I’m straining to lift the seventy or so pounds (but no less than ten repetitions). Then, on to the rowing machine, where I cover 1600 meters – roughly a mile – as fast as I can before I wear out (and I get pretty close). Compared to that, cycling for four or five miles almost seems easy, until I turn it up past 20th gear (and the program generally insists on it when it gets to certain sections of the set plan that require me to get to 90% of my maximum heart rate). To ‘cool down,’ I either walk around the mezzanine that describes the perimeter of the basketball courts, or just hop on a treadmill for ten minutes; the latter, I usually set so that I’m going up an incline, which means even then, I can feel it in my hamstrings after a while. Finally, if I realize that it hasn’t been an hour yet, I will pick up a few free weights and do twenty or twenty-five curls; basically until my arms start to ache.

As I said, none of this is fun. And I know that I probably have people reading this that think this little routine is fairly weak sauce. But considering that, apart from my weekly walk, I’ve never exercised at all, this is exhausting for me. And another thing…

I try my best to be just who I am
But ev’rybody wants me to be just like them
They say “sing while you slave,” and I just get bored.
Aw, I ain’t gonna work on Maggie’s farm no more…

Bob Dylan, “Maggie’s Farm,” from Bringing It All Back Home (1965)

Yeah, not only is it tiring and painful, it’s tedious. If it weren’t for the screens keeping track of my progress, and the variation in force feedback going up and down hills and the like, I’d get pretty bored with it all pretty fast. And the rest of the lyrics fit, too, since I’m trying to conform to certain societal standard of… well, I wouldn’t say beauty, but less weight is decidedly more appealing to the outside observer.

At least, I’m not about to complain about not being allowed to ‘be just what I am,’ as I’m still not sure who that is without you. Maybe this is a step in that direction; maybe this is just a means to an end. I’ll likely be better off for it, in any event… assuming this ache would go away before bedtime…

Anyway, good night, honey. Wish I could see you in my dreams tonight, but regardless, keep and eye on me, and wish me luck. I’m going to need it.

Published by randy@letters-to-rachel.memorial

I am Rachel's husband. Was. I'm still trying to deal with it. I probably always will be.

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