When you just look at the numbers here, you’d be forgiven for thinking I wasn’t making an effort. That would be incorrect, to a point. It was really apparent, very early on, that my body wasn’t happy with the exercise choices made yesterday. The morning’s PT ended up as a fight between brain and body over anxiety. Last night, my legs told me they needed to stop, and instead of ignoring them, I listened.
The Zwift Training programme has been big on mental fortitude. I don’t need help there, I’ve had an entire lifetime of coping. However, what it’s not helping me with is the transformations going on, plus effectively managing food and rest. What I’ve also patently failed to take into account of is how mental stress now affects me physically. The last three months shows that exercise is now the least of my issues.
We need to get this whole space rearranged and optimised.
My family like to point out my shortcomings, in the way all families do: not as criticism, but reminder of what it is that needs work on. An inability to communicate was, for many years, the biggest issue to solve. As a measure of definitive progress, I am now very capable of making how I feel known. The new problem, such as it is, involves focus. What needs to be done, what matters most, and crucially how it all fits together.
This weekend I’m going to instigate some quite serious rearrangement of priorities. Diet is changing, how I organise exercise, when I do it. Then, once my daughter is back to school next week, I can start a proper clean of the house which has suffered a fair deal in the last six months. After THAT, it will be time to reassess again, probably around Christmas.
Let’s see where we are then.