Blues Walk

I no longer have an office chair. I’m typing this whilst sitting on a yoga ball. Over the years I’ve trued various things in an attempt to deal with a back problem that stems from my first pregnancy, and a hastily-applied epidural before an Emergency C-Section. The ball, amazingly, is turning out to be not just a revelation, but the writing accessory that keeps on giving.

Of course, this isn’t going to be for everybody. However, the benefits to posture and general productivity since I blew it up 72 hours ago are significant. Most importantly of all is not the times I’m sitting and using it. I used to idle hugely in my chair, sometimes for hours without making any progress. If this keeps encouraging me to move, and it is, that’s the biggest gift of all.

Slouching is constantly being corrected, and I am here for this.

There is a lot to do, stuff to reply to, and things to write and archive. This is, all told, how I’ve wanted life to be for some time. Everything is largely under my own auspice, with me making the important decisions. All that really needs to happen now is a better form of income, and then I know I’m getting somewhere. We’re working on that today too.

Expect something to purchase from me by the end of the year.

All the Rowboats

… and we’re back.

So much of my world right now is red flags. Yes, the world remains on fire, but sitting complaining about it won’t fix anything. It is becoming increasingly depressing watching individuals who’ve been promising all through Lockdown to kickstart their self-improvement regimes still making the same old posts where it is apparent nothing has changed.

We are all here, flailing with various levels of competency. No-one is really winning anything either. The choices therefore are stark: continue to complain or get on with something constructive. I have a plan to be benching 45kg by the end of September. It looked a bit wonky this morning, if truth be told, but as soon as my brain is in the space, it will happen.

I also have some new notional targets to aim for.

This weekend’s cycling was brutal, and the next two weeks are even harder. At the end of that, we do an FTP test and see if three months of pedalling like fuck has had any appreciable effect on our fitness. Then, quite possibly, we’re going back to trying to run for a bit. I really haven’t thought that far forward, though it will start happening now. There needs to be some future proofing.

We’ve begun the slow changeover of work website resources too: now my ‘work’ is Patreon based, that doesn’t need to run every day. However, it will need to be available for selling things, which also gets worked on this week. So much to do, so little time for whining. It’s why I’m really happy to leave that to people who are clearly better qualified.

There are far better things to be doing anyway.

Musclebound

… and you’re back in the room.

This weekend has taught me a lot about stamina: not just getting my legs to a place where I can sweat out a training programme without fear, but how things really can improve if you stop giving up. It is about pushing through the pain and discomfort, and so much else. Knowing what you can and cannot do are important benchmarks. Once marked, eating into them, subsequently improving them is less terrifying, because they’re static.

Someone I care a great deal about pointed out to me recently my propensity to try and do everything simultaneously, and how that ultimately is destructive. Yes, it absolutely is. I freely admit this, and will happily attest that having a brain that decides everything is possible when nothing is fixed is a sure fire way to hamstring yourself. It’s happened for years.

Not any more.

As it transpires, taking a day off was all that was needed to let my brain relax into new ideas. Therefore, I will start scheduling rest days for writing as well as exercise. It also helps immensely that everything that was done last week was scheduled into next week, thus freeing up a ton of space that previously did not exist. I’ve also recycled an inordinate amount of old work into new spaces.

There is also some though being given to dismissing an original plan and producing something completely left field as my inaugural self-publicised work. It is already made, which in itself saves on effort. I’m still thinking about the options available. If you’re a Patron, I’ll be talking about it more this week via your blogs, and on the IoW website.

There is suddenly a great deal of possibility in the air.