Friday and I wake up from a god awful nights sleep. My fit bit tell me I bedded for 10 hours and six minutes of which 2hours and 1 minute was deep sleep but my 36 minutes of being awake across 9 interruptions is excessive. The irregularity score is 34% and the overall sleep score is 67 and rated as Fair. So my sense of a crap nights sleep is borne out by the figures. Isn’t science wonderful. I get up and do a muesli breakfast and coffee. My intention was to weed the front flower bed under the window but my body and my will is having none of it. I read instead, its American Gods of course, which I am hooked by and it makes me wonder how many Gods I’ve run across in my life time with out realising it. Of course the answer is none, its a story but I am no stranger to stories as I have of hundreds of them in my head, the legacy of a life in forensic psychology. Apart from some internet admin I read all morning and mourn the death of Mad Sweeney a leprechaun who could pluck gold coins from the suns hoard. If that sounds your sort of thing then American Gods is for you but be warned it has a rugged side to it.
My partner goes off to her physio appointment and I pop a delicious chicken and chorizo meal in the crockpot for later. Then I am off to the gym. I get a large bottle of water and a cross trainer and I am away on a 45 minute session. The session on the apparatus goes okay, at least its another 500 + calories burnt, and it bumps my PAI (physical Activity Intelligence) score over 200. I am now operating with a physical fitness age of 55. Yep 55, full of cancer but that fit.
I drink copious amounts of water and grab a weights bar and do some sets of “21”. This goes okay but when I try to lay flat on the mat I discover again how it hurts down one side. I try stretching, which does help but it is clear I have a problem with this and need to stretch more and loosen up. I get back to the changing rooms and shower. Combing out my long hair does not bother me any more , since a waiter in Costa wanted to shake my hand and complemented me on being able to “carry off” my now long white ponytail. What I am increasingly aware of is my tits, I am growing a pair that no matter how much weight work I do its not possible to pass them of as muscular “pecs” any more, they are clearly tits. I remember that the oncologist blithely said that tits are not a problem because they can “always cut them off”. I might be holding him to that when I next see him. Post shower I get a coffee and free biscuit and read more of the American Gods in the gym lounge.
The drive home was uneventful. As I open the door there is the smell of the meal cooking, I get sorted and settle down to coffee and start to draft the blog. This evening will be a football match, and ultimately I shall dance to the opening music of Murder in Paradise. Doubtless I shall read more American Gods and think about what I want the garden guy to do tomorrow. I suspect he will be doing what I intended to do today. Sometimes a plan comes together. l love it when a plan comes together.
