I didn’t go to gym last night, and it sucks. It sucked so much that I tried to make up for it by doing ‘something… anything’. That ‘something… anything’ materialised in the form of half a hundred weight of situps and pressups until I got bored.
I flipped a coin by day regarding whether I was going to go or not, and the coin in question just happened to be whether or not my eyelids could remain open for the car journey home – they didn’t – I crashed and burned and now I am dead. Yes.
The day before I died was a long day, 20hrs I believe. Starting at 4am, and finishing at midnight. The day after also started around 3-4am and was set to end about 10pm – 18 hours or so. I decided that although flipping about in the gym was a good idea, because it might perk me up abit, another low level nights sleep would wreck me for the following killer day. It was at that point, the one of falling asleep whilst driving, that I thought slinging my car through a co-op supermarket and going out in a flaming inferno would a) brighten up my day, and b) make the difficult decision for me.
The above para is all true, with exception of all references to the word ‘death’ standing in as a metaphor for texting my mate saying ‘not going to gym, see you thurs’.
Note to self: (and its a big one)
take on extra work: yes, but don’t do it at the expense of feeling great.
There is a ‘sunny side up’ to this tale of doom and gloom. I went outside at the wkend and did backflips in the garden. Yes, not indoors, the outside; grass, sun, wind type of garden, as opposed to the indoor type of garden I usual use which is filled with flouro lights, soft foam and the smelling of rotting children.
more about this some other time.