I am aware that I’ve posted a similar shot from Hyde Park before, but I never tire of the scene. It’s always enjoyable to be surrounded by trees in the heart of the city.
I met the Bestie for a walk this morning. A good catch-up over two to three hours of walking/several kilometres, breakfast in between. By the time we were done, it was lunchtime.
Great way to spend the best hours of the day, I reckon! Now if I could just re-programme my brain so that I don’t feel deflated about the approaching end of the Sunday, and hence the weekend, I’d be sorted.
I don’t think I’m the only one who feels this way about Sunday and the inevitable ‘finish’. Tell me I’m not!
On the days that I don’t start the morning in the gym, I feel ponderous and listless. I would even go so far as to say that I feel depressed and I pretty much hate the what stares back at me in the mirror. Which means that’s every second day because so far I’ve mainly been doing the one day on, one day non in terms of gym attendance.
Yesterday was a ‘non’ day and as I was leaving the office, I rang the Hub who he said he was going out for a run because he’d managed to finish his meetings at a decent time – the sun hadn’t even set yet. I didn’t want to be the one to have to volunteer to get the groceries/something for dinner (because our fridge was pretty bare), so I said that I also wanted to go for a run… even though I hadn’t even contemplated the notion a second ago, and really, honestly, it wasn’t what I felt like doing at all. What I wanted to do was head home as quickly as possible to peruse the latest issues of Vogue Australia and Monocle I’d purchased a few hours ago. (And post something on the blog… but you knew that anyway.)
And what’s more, I’m not a huge fan of outdoor running. I’d much rather pound out my k’s on the treadmill. It’s easier to zone out that way – just plug in the headphones and go. I don’t have to worry about uneven surfaces, twisting ankles, which direction I’m going in, rain, wind, people, cyclists, dogs, etc. (I especially dislike running in the dark which means it’s the gym by default as it means I can run at 6am with no dramas). But I did it, and it was as unpleasant and unsatisfying as I remembered^. Nor could I go for as long/far as I can on the treadmill. It was really sad and discouraging. And I still hate running past or near other people. My misanthropic tendencies seem even stronger when I’ve got my running shoes on.
So… I think I should do it more often because clearly I need to improve and shake myself out of my comfort zone. Weekend outdoor running, here we come!
Remind me I said this!
^ Slight exaggeration, it wasn’t that long since my previous outdoor run. I did the outdoor thing during my week in Perth earlier this year. And it was actually OK, because it was in the park.
I must’ve walked past at least three former addresses yesterday. According to my Fitbit, I notched up 36,282 steps/23.48 km walking around my old neighbourhood haunts, to and from the city and back again (twice). I went to bed with a blister at the base of my heel and this morning my calves are still protesting from being overworked. Quads were already sore from the run of the previous day. I fear I may be hobbling – a little – this morning.
The recommended total daily number of steps is 10,000, by the way.
I never seem to get enough of being outside under that endless cloudless blue sky whenever I come home.
There are things to be said, I suppose, for that buzzless sober Saturday night in.
This is how good I felt this morning: I got on the treadmill. I hardly ever do two days in a row, and I did do a session yesterday. I actually felt like it.
As for being clear-headed, it doesn’t actually equate to feeling like spilling my guts. You can’t win ’em all.
I need a burst of something bright this morning. (I promise, the colour wasn’t photoshopped, nor did I use a flash with these beautiful specimens.)
Received a mild remonstration from the Hub when I returned from my treadmill session this morning for waking up “in the middle of the night” to exercise. It was 5:30! Hardly the middle of the night.
It’s been an immensely long and challenging week. I had dinner with a cousin and her son on Tuesday – they were visiting from Perth – and was explaining that of late, 12-hour days have been the norm. “But you like your job, don’t you?” she asked, “I suppose that makes it tolerable.”
I said yes, but after yesterday I really wasn’t too sure any more.
…But my point is, if I don’t get up at 5:30 to fit in the exercise, it’s hard to find any other time in the day. I think it’s the norm for lots of us.
But the good news is: it’s almost the long weekend.
Need to get back on the treadmill good and proper soon. Not soon, actually, more like yesterday. I fear I may now be the same weight I was when I was 15, which was not good – I was a tub[by].
Speaking of 15, there’s lots that’s going on in my life now that harks back to when I was that age. Honestly, it’s like all the chooks have decided to come home to roost this year. I honestly thought I could get through life without dealing with all that crap from when I was that age, but life has a way of getting its way. I was not close to my dad, who died in March, but who he was obviously had a significant effect on me. (And I don’t mean that in a good way.)
What’s that Philip Larkin poem about parents… Oh, that’s right, this:
They fuck you up, your mum and dad.
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra just for you.
That’s life, innit!
With the photo, two stories…
The first and frivolous one is: the colour is Dragon (Shade 475) by Chanel. Both the manicurist and I agreed that the colour is classic and probably one of the best reds in the history of nail shades, but the brush is diabolique. If Chanel could fix, nay, make their brush more like O.P.I.’s brush, I/she/we would probably wear Chanel on our nails more regularly. The brush is too long and too stiff. It sucks, it’s the devil. Hello, Chanel, are you listening?
The second and serious story is: I haven’t got the eye for detail or concentration at the moment. I made a serious enough error at work on Monday, which really, I could’ve done without. I had to recall an email to 250 (+/-) recipients, and we all know that the so-called recall function should in fact be be renamed “Let’s All Highlight Your Monumental Fuck-Up, Shall We?” My doctor has told me to take fish oil to help my brain, and I am trying to work on sleeping better so that I don’t wake up feeling like death warmed up and doing stupid things in my waking hours. (Besides a whole raft of Other Things.) In the meantime, it takes me twice as long to read anything, and as for sending emails, I’m re-re-re-reading them before I click ‘Send’. It’s irritating, to say the least. But not as irritating as the A4 sheet of ‘Sleep Better’ instructions I have received. Some of them are, hmm, going to be tough. For instance, I’m not supposed to eat after 7pm, or read in bed. REALLY? I don’t know anyone who has a real job who eats before 7pm regularly or easily. I’m not supposed to exercise after 6.30pm either. Again, REALLY??! I’m not even going to nudge ‘No reading in bed’ with the proverbial six-foot barge pole.
Needless to say, I was so glad to see the arrival of Friday that the first thing I did this morning was get myself the paint-job. Amen.