I love The Open.
Also, thank fuck it’s over.
Messes with the schedule, makes programming awkward, fucks with the lifts.
I love you, see you next year!
Feels so good to be back at the lifts.
Something about feeling strong and sharp that’s hard to beat.
We’ll be complaining about feeling unfit in a few weeks.
There you go.
A fog can very easily develop without me even noticing.
I have been walking around in a thick fog, utterly clueless.
It’s only as it cleared I realised.
Inaction is what brought it on. The little things on the perpetual long-term-to-do-list.
Before long, a perpetual squint.
Here’s how I regain clear skies
1. Designate one afternoon in the week. Even give it a name if that helps. “Shit-Fight-Tuesday”
2. Rank the jobs on the list, starting with least desirable all the way down to most desirable.
3. Bite down hard and get to work.
In a matter of minutes, the top three are often done and dusted and then I’m on a roll.
I’m sure there’s a better way, like a “cleaning as you go” approach.
That’s for those who have it all figured out.
When I first left school I worked for six months cleaning a factory floor.
A grey painted floor which took two hours to sweep, two hours to mop. Once finished, I would start again.
Endless grey, every day.
I remember there was a certain amount of pride in looking back at the nice clean floor at the end of a shift.
Got old fast.
Didn’t know what my future held at that point.
Those twelve hour days staring at that grey floor, the low hum of machinery in my ears, never leave me.
As I ambitiously chase down carrots every day, that floor acts very effectively as a big terrifying stick.
Looking forward to trying out new methods.
Open season finishes tomorrow and makes room for a new plan.
Having spent a long time figuring out what works, lots of the old stuff will still be there.
Likely always will be.
The new is important though.
What worked last year won’t necessarily work next year.
I look at what seemed like “the only way” to get fit 20 years ago versus 10 years ago versus 3 years ago.
Every generation of coach think they have it all figured out. And yet, things move forward.
I can’t imagine training in ten years will look as it does right now
For me, it seems the safest approach is to constantly change.
Commit to being the innovator.
It also makes life a lot more interesting.
I was going to write something about this being my 100th post.
A little bit of self-congratulation.
But I can’t.
Not after the evening i have just had.
Watching the tribe tonight deal with this monstrosity of a workout was nothing short of awe-inspiring.
There was fear and there were tears. There was also massive personal struggle.
You find out something about yourself in a workout like that.
What I found out was that these people are made of cast iron.
Coffin nails. Diamonds.
Then there was the generosity.
You couldn’t help but feel the support in the room.
Gushingly proud tonight.
Business not growing fast enough
Stopping for diesel
Getting social media content
Metcons looking a bit shabby
Responding to emails
Bag storage at the gym
Remembering Darina’s Birthday
The seven-percenter struggle is real.
99 problems I don’t have
I’m not worrying about where i’m going to sleep tonight, how I’m going to eat, or living in a war zone.
I don’t even have to worrying what my boss thinks of me.
Still, those new metcons…
It has started.
A wave of “oh fuck” coming my way.
Big deep breathe, get ready to dive in.
Once it starts, there’s no way out.
Sink or swim.
Maybe this year I’ll actually enjoy it.