Fresh

Can’t believe it’s only Tuesday. Yesterday went on for MONTHS and, to be honest, it is still going on, and I feel horrible. I’ve let other people down, and I absolutely fucking HATE it when that happens. I end up massively overcompensating and then in turn end up remembering that this is another inherited behaviour I really need to stop falling back on. TELL PEOPLE HOW YOU FEEL AT THE TIME DAMMIT.

Anyway, it is only Tuesday. I probably need another cuppa.

In anticipation of the much-hyped and finally here launch of YouTube on Thursday, I have revamped a few things. This typeface and me clicked quite early on in my relationship with Canva, and the background’s evolved a bit from its original use. As I really have been here since 1992, maybe it is time to make that a selling point. Let’s face it, most people don’t think anything happened before 1990 anyway.

There’s also a bit more honesty in my posting over the last few days. I know why. This is really me talking, not the version of myself I often use when there is no desire to really interact with other people, but I feel obliged to. That obligation has shifted to other places, and to be honest that’s probably the best place for them. There is no need for such bollocks here.

Being authentic was never more important as it is now.

Nobody else cares about this as much as I do for a reason. It’s not their job to. If I want these things to be successful, and I desire traction moving forward, it’s simple: I have to do the work, it’s entirely up to me.

So, let’s work.

Burn the Witch

Yup, they really are. Cramps in both hands, because holding my body weight for extended periods of time is HARD. Nobody tells you this shit when they write the exercise guides. Nobody complains about how much it hurts, because that’s what losers do. The pain is real, and enough to put many people off. Understanding it is not bad pain but the indicator of progress, also not nearly talked about enough.

There is not an easy answer to anything, people.

Have you not grasped this yet?

Except, of course, that’s what lots of people just continue to do, day in and day out. No achievement, just sustenance. Also, all you people who keep wandering around with the notion that if you can find ‘the answer’, everything is sorted? Hate to break it to you, but life has never worked like that ever. Maybe this explains why everything is on fire.

My body won’t get stronger if there are weak links in the chain: having shitty hands is going to hold me back. They need to work, just like everything else, and when all the links are strong, stuff starts to happen. We all can see where there’s an issue in our lives like this, where something small stops us from moving forward.

Fixing those small things can and does alter everything for the better.

Things will change for the worse, undoubtedly, and are. It means that those capable of keeping these things alive and vital will become charged with sacred duties: uphold the importance of history, words that record it, which will always remind of the true and righteous struggles. Just because you are presented with setbacks does not mean there is no point in fighting.

Giving up is not an option here. The planet depends on us to be strong.

Love What You Do

For a couple of months I have suspected there was a more serious issue at play than simply struggling with stiffness and muscle fatigue whilst exercising. Yesterday, a physiotherapist confirmed this. This now means I’m going to voluntarily put myself through a period of induced pain to correct two historical injuries that are effectively working against each other. This, hopefully, will be the worst morning after as it’s the work on the older injury first.

Let me go find some painkillers before we go any further.

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I’ve spent all week wrestling with writing demons for a submission that is not due until June. I’ll talk more about this on the appropriate blog, but what the exercise has thrown up is many-fold. I am not an intellectual writer. I simply cannot make myself into that person. All that matters is to tell the story that is in my head: language becomes an often pointless extra. I have no idea how that’s fixed either. After a week and a dozen brilliant ideas down on paper, I’m no further forward than I was this time last week.

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After yesterday, I’m also very please I re-branded myself without ceremony earlier in the year. Being known as Alt is, at least here, becoming a burden. Someone used it, a while back, to try and demonise me and it struck a chord, which was at least in part why I made the choice to remove that logo from my spaces. Being able to change, and to be sympathetic that sometimes, you need to, is a big ask for some. I have no problem with that form of evolution: now, if I could only do that elsewhere…

To ensure the physio sticks as quickly as possible, there needs to be some running and exercise sooner rather than later. Let’s see if we can knock off 12k steps before lunchtime again…

Wednesday Week

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When I look back on this point from the future, there will be the understanding that 2018 was where everything changed: not just exercise, or mental outlook, or even the ability to discern truth from deception. This was the year when, driving to pick up my daughter, Brain successfully informed Body that we’d done enough and it was time to stop. I turned off Social media, came home and spent a couple of hours looking after myself. There was no cycling (I have two days worth of tests to run starting today) and no exercise (which will happen after I’ve written this) but what there was included writing novel and organising next week.

Then, I slept for nine hours. The elimination of caffeine after 6pm and removal of electronic devices which can be read from the bedroom has begun, finally, to bear fruit. It also helps that I’ve been physically exhausted by my new training plan, which is now pushing body in new and interesting ways. I had time to prepare breakfast the night before, and make a list of the things needed to continue to improve my food intake. Once I’m done here it is good enough weather to walk to and from the Gym for a weights session, and if it’s not too busy afterwards, I might even have lunch there.

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This is where I’d like to make my home, for a while. However, yesterday I was prompted by an e-mail that I might like to consider the Ballot for the Ride London 47: a shorter version of the main ride, without the killer hills, which would allow me to gain a sponsor and make some money for the time spent. I won’t know if I’ve managed to get in until late April, but it shows willing and is an acknowledgement that there’s a desire to try a ‘proper’ event, rather than the more casually-based Eroica. It will also take place the day before we go on holiday, so I’ll have plenty of time to recover.

Entering myself, however, is a huge deal. I don’t like races, get nervous and itchy at the competition. The psychology of it all will be a bigger undertaking too because I’ll be doing it alone (husband will be on the full ride) and I’ve never had the confidence to do something this complex without support. That’s the biggest leap forwards of all. I am good enough. I can do this. There’s anxiety just thinking about it, typing the words, but beneath all of that remains the confidence in myself, that never existed before. Just as I’m about to finish a novel that’s taken two decades to grasp, I could ride alone and succeed.

All things are now possible, if I just believe enough in myself.