Well, it’s morning and I’m beat.
I worked out too hard the past two days and need to take it easy today. If I could, I’d work from home today, but I can’t. I have embraced a reckless approach to recovery and sometimes it bites me in the ass.
Wednesday night I rode my recumbent bike extra hard and yesterday I did the crazy workout of walking up and down eight flights of stairs several times and doing pushups and sit-ups at the top and bottom landing. After I did that five times I did this thing where I walk up one flight of stairs, do some type of exercise at the landing, go back down do some curls with my exercise bands, grab my gear and go back up the one flight to that landing and start the whole process again until I go up, and down, and back up. I did this little bit of torture until I made it all way back up to the top on the stairwell.
Stupid huh? I’m frikkin exhausted.
What caused this bit of insanity? My old nemesis – Pizza. That’s right. Pizza. I had planned to cut back on my food and lose some of this prepositioned medical weight loss material from around my waist. But I was weak. Wednesday night I wanted pizza and I wanted a lot of it. So we ordered a medium pizza from Seasons and I ate almost the whole thing (to be fair a medium pizza is like a small at other eateries).
In my mind that can only mean one thing – I must do penance. Like a medieval month whipping himself in a darkened cell for sins real or imagined, I took to the stairwells.
Well that little escapade has me tired. Bone weary, but the citizens of Delaware are counting on me to get off my ass and go to work. Actually if it weren’t for the fact that this is the day providers turn in their initial (RFP) packet, I’d stay home and snuggle up in my bed, but I’m shorthanded and need to go in.
I ain’t working my ass off today that’s for sure.