Every good story needs a whirlwind opening, a strong and stable (sorry Theresa) middle and an engrossing ending, preferably one that leaves you begging for more.
So it’s about this point that I unreservedly make precisely zero guarantees about the quality of the next phase of this week’s narrative although I hope it entertains none-the-less.
I’ve mentioned on a number of occasions the importance of resting to prevent injury and conveniently I began the middle part of this week by doing exactly that: resting.
Rest, rest, rest. Sorry, nothing exciting to note here. I had a backlog of work to catch up on as well due to members of my team going on Annual Leave so controversially used my gym time to de-clutter my inbox. Yawn.
Truth be told, I didn’t actually mean to take today as a rest day either but I had been feeling a little sore from earlier in the week so make a conscious effort in the morning to NOT bring my gym gear with me.
However, the best laid plans of mice and men… the 7a side football team I play for on Thursday came a-knocking at my door with heartfelt cries of player shortages; pleas for the prospect of my name completing the team sheet as opposed to my ability lately.
Alas, I got there early to ensure I had time to remember how my legs should function in the act of kicking a football, and perhaps allow my lungs to cease their incessant screaming just a smidgen.
I played reasonably well, had a couple of chances, and finished the game with a late 1-0 win – we’re making a complete mockery of the Premier Division considering we weren’t even supposed to originally be playing in that division – but that’s a story for another day.
(For those truly interested, visit the League Edstreme website and check out the league tables. The team I play for is Puck Off FC)
Not content with the short burst of cardio I did on Thursday night I figured that crucifying my body some more cardio barely twelve hours later was the icing on the rich and wholesome cake I was creating.
Having borrowed some workouts from Pinterest earlier this week I figured that I might as well sign up and allow my board to fill up with a plethora of daunting and otherwise thrilling exercises for me to peruse over when I decide to dabble into more of the unknown.
I stumbled across a few thirty minute cardio workouts which I saved to my phone but this one really stood out for me due to the ease of which I could realistically complete this on a treadmill in the gym.
The first obstacle to overcome was the speed; I settled for a reasonable 6mph. The next issue which quickly came to fruition is just how fast those fifteen seconds disappear when you’re trying to catch your breath. You barely have time to get a drink and wipe the beads of sweat from your forehead.
Every time I’ve done any sort of distance running lately I’ve found myself crippled by flat feet no matter what shoes I wear or what technique I employ, and today was no exception. However, with the new drive coursing through my veins (although it could’ve been the pre-workout mix) I was adamant I was going to push myself to run this with no slacking, no extended breaks, no giving up. Just pure sweat, muscle burn and possibly tears (can’t confirm, sorry, no information available on that).
Overall, I guess it was borderline enjoyable, particularly as you start the descent back down from 12% to 1%. Luckily, there’s an audio-free TV right in front of the treadmill so I completed the circuit to the backdrop of Banner Pilot and Sky News.
This may or may not have been supplemented with a midday Guinness but there’s absolutely no harm in that – particularly now that I am making another conceited effort to give up the cigarettes again (I promise). Besides, a Guinness a day is good for you, remember?
All in all, I’m fairly happy with the progress I’ve made so far this week. Today has so far been spent productively as I begin a clear out of all the unnecessary rubbish I’ve somehow accumulated over the years.
I’ll probably end up taking a break from any workouts today (unless I get particularly bored tonight) as I have every intention of playing nine holes tomorrow but as always it’ll be played by ear.
So, once again, apologies. This wasn’t really much of an apologue but I suppose a moral can be extracted from the chronicle of Jimmy Eat World’s “The Middle” that should serve as a perennial reminder for all who find it difficult to have faith when they don’t find early results; it just takes some time.