Thursday, January 19, 2017
I mean, that's the problem, no sweat, not gymming, not bolted to the floor biking, not airbag whaling, nor any of the other physical activities that might induce a loss in the weight game. This week has been a galling example of that, with essentially three quarter days of work (visits to clinics to prep for upcoming go lives, which let out late enough in the day to more or less justify finishing out the day at a library near home, rather than an hour's commute away. That should be recipe for getting my butt to the gym, but instead, a sleep study on the weekend (second one, to try and calibrate what sort of airflow might be proper for a cpap therapy), has pretty much knocked me off the almost regular sleep patterns I'd more or less finally achieved. Meaning, I get home and need to take a nap, and don't make it to the gym, and then I can't get to sleep at a proper time, and then the next day, I'm tired, and rinse and repeat.
Ok, granted, the fault lies with the man in the mirror. So I guess I better start by asking him to change his way. Message clear enough?
Hat tip to MJ, of course. (If that reference wasn't blindingly obvious, click below to see where I stole the last bit from.)