Monday – no exercise. No jog, no swim. The weekend had left me less than energetic, and the pouring rain certainly didn’t help. Bold Claire. Try again tomorrow.
Tuesday – right, no more procrastination. I made myself get into work as early as I could and get into my swimming gear. I’d been here before last week, when I didn’t really feel any joy at being in the water, and I frankly ‘parented’ myself into it again today. I got into the medium speed lane again, secured my goggles, and pushed off the edge.
And booom, the old push and sway was right back there. I pushed off that edge like a fish being freed again, and all the old skill I’d had was right back there with me; keep to the top of the water, make your movements smooth and clean, get into the rhythm and keep it going.
As I swam, I noticed the pool filling up. UCD is lucky enough to host the Women’s’ Rugby Tournament this year, and the campus is filled with teams from all over the world getting ready to compete. The gym and pool is no different, and a team were there this morning to get some recovery swims in. They’re strong, with all the various body types you might expect of a rugby team. I am by political leanings a feminist, but by culture I’m sexist; I’m still surprised when society puts women first without qualification. To have these women given resources, and priority, and emphasis, is a strange state for me. As I watched one figure happily swim past me, I realised I’d never seen a woman succeed for her own sake.
Men win in movies because they are the Hero. Women win in movies so they can get the guy.
Women are never heroes by themselves. They never succeed unless they succeed just-so-far and no farther. Women are not the default, they’re the reward, and that is an area I should grow a bit in.
Anyways. I got out of the pool and got ready. I’m still too slow on that one, I find.
Wednesday – no work, rest day, alalallalalllaa
Thursday; Run! Run fast! Home, shoes on, out the door! I pushed myself very hard and managed to… maintain the same speed. I would have hoped I could cut more time off it, but I didn’t. Standing at my front door, trying to breathe, I told myself it didn’t matter. What was I going to do, give up? No, I was not. Maintain, fall back, get better; it doesn’t matter, just keep going.
Friday – Rest day
Saturday & Sunday – See, I was actually full of good intentions on Thursday? And I did indeed manage to get a lot done, both for work and for exercise? But on Saturday I headed down to the sister’s for the weekend. They have a lovely home down there, and kids that still fake liking the mad aunt, and a dog so my beloved angel adores it too, and all of it. So by 11am off we went in the car to enjoy the weekend. The older I get the more I love getting out of Dublin, and I’m never down enough in Kilkenny for my liking, I miss the place very much. So it was fantastic, frankly, to recognise the hills in the distance as we went on down the country. The weekend was very much waterlogged. We had a long walk on Sunday morning just before there was a break in the rain, out in the woods called The Islands, and that took a good hour, so I am calling that exercise.
The woman in the middle is one of the best people in the world. In case you were wondering.
We even found a car; a passat had been pushed off the road, all the windows smashed. The more I looked at it the more I was convinced it had just been put there; the weeds were wilted, the upholstery was dry, and the thread marks weren’t pushed down. We rang the guards and told them about it, but something about it troubled me; They would have had to drive in the pitch dark and then walk back the same way. That’s a lot of effort for just a joyride.
Shockin’.
It started to rain. We got just wet enough so that we were grateful to be back at our cars and get cosy. The rest of the day was a deluge, and I spent it reading and looking out of the window, tututing and going back to my book. Hard life.
Like, really hard.
While I was down there, I had another idea for a novel; a beginners cooking class focusing on Desserts. You could see each of the people taking part in the class, and learn about them as the cooking class goes on. The book should include the actual recipes as well, so that a person buying the book would have the chance to learn to cook it too. Yes, it is a bit Maeve Binchy, but frankly there’s nothing wrong with that. The title came to me this morning as I was putting on my mascara; “Sweet Things For Beginners.” And a cover in pink. Hmm, I like that.
But no exercise make Claire lose the point of the blog. I want to go for a quick jog today, and will update this blog this weekend. Don’t lose hope! I will be back!
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