When you go for a meditative walk (or, if you're in a weightloss contest, a meditative deranged, hip-dislocating careen), you tend to figure a few things out.
Today what I figured out was that I can't know what shocking abuses Slick is capable of putting himself and his opponents through in his crazy, obsessive effort to win this contest. All that is out of my hands. All I can do is relax, forgive other people their excesses, and get to work on me. Be the best person I can possibly be!
To that end, from now until the final weigh in I shall eat nothing but steamed greens, soft-boiled eggs and water. And espresso. And diuretics. And amphetamines. And emetics. And laxatives (but not the chewables! They have sweeteners).
I have found a way to avoid walking across the sweltering commuter lot on my way around the lake! It involves walking through the woods where they filmed the Blair Witch Project. In same woods today I saw a persimmon tree whose persimmons I had to shun. And I saw a black racer and a pileated woodpecker. These ran from me, of course, because I look like the Crypt Keeper, now. But I don't care if I'm risking death by [SPOILER ALERT!] ghost-of-creepy-ol'-child-molester-who-makes-his-victims-stand-in-a-corner-while-he-murders-his-other-victims-and-breaks-their-university-supplied-video-cameras-they're-using-for-their-dopey-J-school-project-gone-bad. And I don't care if I'm causing a silent spring by frightening the area fauna to death. I'm sticking with the woods. My walk route is immeasurably improved. Anyone reading this who knows which commuter lot I'm talking about and wants to do my walk with me one day, perhaps in combination with a little Dance, Dance, Revolution, Revolution, which I can't help noticing we still haven't done, is cordially invited to accompany.