First off, I would like to wish a very happy birthday to Pear Mackie. I missed seeing her in person a few months ago, being busy with a show I was doing, but she was absolutely lovely to my wife. Thank you so much, Ms Mackie, I hope you are having a swell day wherever you happen to be.

As for me, yeah, I watched Doctor Who this morning. Like that's a shock. So let's talk Christmas.

Happy Memorial Day everyone! I had a lovely, lovely holiday spending most of the day with my wife (we went out to a double feature of Solo and Deadpool 2). After two weeks of focusing on my Fringe show it was nice to get to take a whole day off and do nothing of consequence. Tomorrow I dive back into work, and a week from Sunday I jump into my next show (Xanadu, yay!!)

But yes, I did watch Doctor Who this morning, so let's talk about that.

This is not at all treadmill or Doctor Who related, I just have to say: Last night I had easily the best stage performance of my life at the Orlando Fringe Festival. Sure, it wasn't a massive audience, but who cares? The small crowd who attended all had a great time, and I felt absolutely in the groove for the entire performance. A dozen songs, lots of stories, and a direct connection with everyone in attendance -- it was just sublime. I am about to leave for my final performance of this show, and I couldn't be more proud of what I have achieved in the last year or so. And this ridiculous project? It's a huge part of what has gotten me here. So thank you, my dear Imaginary Readers, for keeping me motivated and moving. I treasure each and every one of you (especially the ones who aren't actually imaginary).

Speaking of imaginary people, let's talk about today's episode of Doctor Who.

This morning I had the distinct pleasure of meeting Catherine Tate, a.k.a. Donna Noble, at MegaCon Orlando. As one would expect, she was absolutely lovely. I got her autograph on my Time Treadmill inspiration poster, and then got this photo with her:

Prior to that, however, I watched the Craig & Sophie episode of Doctor Who, so let's talk about that.

As I might have mentioned once or twice recently, I am currently doing a show at the Orlando Fringe Festival. The other day as I was walking around the festival grounds I had the pleasure of meeting Walter Michel DeForest, who performs a one-man show about the life of Vincent Van Gogh called Van Gogh Find Yourself. I have to say, the man was born to play Van Gogh (almost literally so, as he points out "Walter DeForest was born with a hole in his heart on July 30th. On July 30th, Vincent was buried. He died from a gunshot wound to the chest.")

Oh the sweet synchronicity, then, that today of all days I got to watch the Vincent episode. Let's talk about that.

I'm definitely not sick anymore. This morning I finally weighed back in at under 250, which was a huge relief. I know, I know, weight is not what this ridiculous project is about, it's about feeling good about myself physically and mentally, and I keep reminding myself about that fact. But my brain fixates on charts and numbers, and I haven't liked the chart, so here we are. I know it's irrational. That's ok, though, this whole project is crazy. 

Speaking of this ridiculous project, Rory died today (spoilers!). It's ok, though. He's died before and he will die again. It's just kind of what he does. So let's talk about that.

It's late. Like, really really late. I need to be asleep about forty five minutes ago, so here we go on a quick one.

Yes, I hit the treadmill today. so let's talk about it.

As of this morning I have done more than four thousand pushups cumulatively since I added them to this ridiculous project. Also, remember a few days ago when I complained about being as big as a whale? Well, the last of my illness-related bloating has fallen off and I have lost more than seven pounds in the last five days. Trust me, it ain't because I was doing anything different. It's just the vagaries of illness combined with normal daily fluctuations. This stuff gets into your head and messes with it, though, so I'm not going to pretend I wasn't thrilled when I saw the number this morning. Good stuff.

As for Doctor Who (and speaking of being as big as a whale), Amy was suddenly nine months pregnant at the start of the episode. Oh, and Rory had a pony tail. So let's talk about that.

Today is going to be a really short post. It's the week of the Orlando Fringe Festival, I've got a show in it, and I need to go flog it like crazy to get butts in seats. But I did put in my treadmill time this morning, so let's talk about Amy getting all freaky up in the TARDIS.

Most of the time, the five day moving average is my friend. Today, however, it is working against me. The good news is that after a week of being sick with a flu or virus or something, I am finally feeling mostly back to normal. The bad news is that while I was sick I also bloated up like a German sausage. Although I have lost more than five pounds in the last two days (purely from losing all the fluids my body was stockpiling), that won't show up in the moving average for a few more days. I just keep reminding myself that this has never been about weight per-se, it is about feeling better and more healthy. Temporary illness aside, I feel fantastic and my clothes have never fit better than they do right now. So, it's all good. It's just galling to see it mapped out on a graph. I'll get over it.

I also watched the second half of the army of Angels story today, and I liked it far less this time around then when it originally aired. Let's talk about that.