One seems to have plateaued in one's quest for a lofty fitness goal. Gosh, that word plateaued is rather vowel greedy, isn't it? Indulge me while I momentarily become one of those pretentious little twats (Age journalists) who define words for their five readers. Thanks pretentious twats, but I have a dictionary and half a brain. One definition of plateau coming up:
In geology and earth science, a plateau (/pləˈtoʊ/ or /ˈplætoʊ/; plural plateaus or rarely plateaux) is an area of highland, usually consisting of relatively flat terrain. Plateaus can be formed by a number of processes, including upwelling of volcanic magma, extrusion of lava, and erosion by water and glaciers.
Hold up, I dont think that's the plateau I'm looking for; pretty sure I'm reading from the wrong playbook. Humans haven't secreted lava since 2005. That's the last time I rely on the crusty old Encyclopedia Britannica. Pages falling out everywhere. But I just don't know where else I could find such an extensive range of information resources... Someone needs to invent something to keep all those things in the same place.
I'm turning a certain age this year. Let's just call it somewhere between two and fifty-eight. And I've decided that I must be superbly fit and healthy when doomsday hits on 4 October. It was all going along swimmingly until a few weeks ago when I hit a wall.
Hello wall, you massive jerk. I hate walls. They are so annoying and immovable. Unless you have a wreaking ball attached to your forehead it's gotta be mind over matter, baby. So, in order to rid myself of this pesky fictitious solid vertical structure I shall deem it a movable partition and go from there.
This quote might help. I love a good quote. Also, trying harder might help.
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