Bloody God darned frustrating....there you go; I've said it in the nuttiest of nutshells. You know what makes it all the more annoying? Whatever happens at the weigh in tomorrow I have noone to blame but myself. GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!! I am ashamed to say that on this Monday - six days into the week - the exercise count is precisely......zip. The week has sort of got away from me a bit, and suddenly here I am the day before the next tipping of the scales and I fear for the results........ .....again. The wheels kinda fell off before the week even started, but let me take you on a day-by-day account.....
Wednesday - 'went to the gym yesterday so this is a legitimate day off'
Thursday - 'should really go to the gym but I am feeling knackered and have a busy weekend ahead; but I'll make up for it during my Sunday work-out'
Friday - 'off to see Sarah Millican in Manchester, so no time for any exercise'
Saturday - 'off to see me Mum for the day, so no time for any exercise' (rubbish as I didn't get to Mums until 11:30am)
Sunday - 'right, lots to do; need to buy some compost for growing the Summer veg, buy said veg seeds, do my food shopping, get the car washed and valeted, sort my washing out, tidy the house AND get to the gym. First things first, the grand prix is on.......'
.....2 hours later......
'crap, the grand prix is still on......'
.....2 hours later.......
'this is looking a bit tight now; the race has only just finished and I'm not sure I will get everything done. Got to get the car cleaned and can pop to the garden centre afterwards; still time for the gym.....'
.....2 hours later.......
'it's taken me blummin' ages to find a car wash that isn't chocka block with customers, and now it's half past three and I haven't done the garden centre or the gym; if I go to the gym now I will have just enough time to run in, get changed into my gym kit, get changed out of my gym kit, and run out...garden centre it is then....'
So here I am, Monday, without a gym session done or a shuttlecock hit for the entire week. No excuses, just a life lesson on the dangers of procrastination (my God, big word, I need a lie down). The temptation is to go to the gym tonight and tomorrow night, but in this effort to redress the balance of exercise I might do myself a mischief; or at the very least knacker myself for the week ahead. So I will definitely get myself to the gym tomorrow night, give it a bit of welly, and then take my nasty wasty medecine like a good little boy at the weigh in. Yesterday is the 8 week countdown for the Great Manchester; with the way the running has been going this is plenty of time, but I can't afford any more weeks like this.
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