With days to go appears that the predictable pattern of the winter unwells has kicked in already… (with it not even officially winter yet do i need to call it the autumn ails?) Feeling like i’ve done everything (well almost everything) right in preparation to not get sick you could say i’m a little Farkuckt … my morning routine of vitamins, pills, powders and potions to get me going and (try) and keep me healthy looks like a some kind of space age breakfast that really should have done the trick…..but no.
It could be said that running around non stop like a kid on a red cordial high could be a contributing factor in why i’ve been cruelly taken down in such dramatic style. I could contribute my sleeping over 1o hours a day for the last few days to something sinister, some malevolent force, some crazed virus wrestling me down like a wolf taking down a wilderbeast… but no… i blame one evil, beastly, inhumane event… Bootcamp, morning bootcamp.
I hate mornings.. and for the most part i’m not a huge fan of exercise.. put the two together and of course they form the perfect the scapegoat for my sickness. I think mornings should be spent sleeping until the last moment, lazily getting up and showering, a bite for breakfast and then kicking off the day.
In complete contrast, thanks to my Penelope Cruz lookalike crazy lady friend , last week my mornings consisted of sprints, push ups, burpees, and boxing in wet, frosty, cold morning grass, all before 7am. Lady C and i look at each other in the mornings as we meet outside the toastcave in bleary eyed disbelief, wrapped in our anti freeze gear wondering what the frack we are doing and why we’ve committed to this hell for another month….. but we will do it, then we can go back to our normal lives.
Speaking to Lady C yesterday i’m satisfed in indicting bootcamp with my illness and she is unwell too. 1 week in and Bootcamp (2): Toast & Lady C (0). Time to get our Dynamic Duo on and even the score.
Break out the Butter, i’ll be back real soon (today’s toast served with cold cuts)