The subject of this post is referring to two things.

First off, the more obvious of the two: I’m still smoke free. I say that because it’s April 2nd, and it’s three months since I quit smoking. And I haven’t had one since. According to QuitMeter, it’s been almost thirteen weeks. In a similar vein, I also have given up most of my soda drinking; I drank a lot of diet soda, an average of at least 2 liters a day. I decided it wasn’t worth it to keep drinking it all, so I’ve been drinking a lot of water lately, which can’t be bad, right? I figure that if I can do this stuff successfully, I can move up to the next step: the much bigger and more challenging task of losing about 70 pounds. That’s more daunting to me than quitting smoking ever was.

As for the other thing. Why am I sore? Well, for a couple reasons. First, I went out on Friday night, with some friends. It started as a going-away party for a friend who was leaving for a new job. It ended at about 3:30 am when I went to sleep after going out to a dance club, then had eggs and bacon at one in the morning with my friend Heather. There’s definitely something to be said for evenings like that.

However, a night of dancing, for a fat guy (see above comment about needing to lose 70 pounds), is really rough on the legs. I’m not exactly in shape, so I’m not so much with the muscle endurance, and my legs were quite sore afterward. Keep this in mind as I talk about the rest of the weekend:

Saturday, I woke up before my alarm clock went off at 8. I showered, got dressed, packed some stuff and then drove down to New York City. I met with a couple friends, had some drinks, and then attended a Dream Theater concert at Radio City Music Hall. It was one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen. I had a ticket in the sixth row, and the show was being filmed for a DVD, which pretty much guaranteed that there would be no sitting down for the entirety of the show. Which was three hours.

Now, mentioning again the prior mention of my hearty girth, and noting to you that I have a congenital ankle condition, and you may be able to see the dangers of being on my feet for a continuous three hours. And then, after that, we went to Applebees (about five blocks from the venue), ate a way-too-overpriced meal, and then walked another, what, seven blocks? to the hotel. Really not good for my feet.

When all is said and done, though, I’m not going to complain at all. It was a combination of great friends, a little exercise, a few beers, a slight case of temporary tinnitus, some limping that’ll go for yet a few days more, and some cool memories.

Pictures to follow.