I was all ready to go this morning, just like I always am. An almond-milk-and-fruit concoction in the fridge and my day’s clothes hanging in the mudroom to minimize disruption to those I love most as I exit home at 530a.
Which is a bit of a canard. In the universe that is our home I am the most disruptive force, a belt of careening asteroids at the best of times, colliding gracelessly with objects both inanimate and organic regardless of proximity to my path. And at 520a, brace for impact.
Anyway, to get to the point, they had to get by without me this morning at the gym and I am confident they did just fine.
Today is my first down day in the last 27 – the sprint run to the end of the challenge motivated me to forego a couple of dates that normally would have been rest days, but the nasty weather and a couple creaky joints made it an easy call this morning. Me and the asteroid belt called an inaudible audible and I slept (sort of) for an extra hour.
I still did get in a mini workout. I shoveled snow. Wet, heavy snow with a captain-crunchy frosting on top of it but a mindless, physical effort well suited to the graceless likes of me.
Michelangelo never sculpted “Man Moving Snow” and I doubt anyone will soon. Moving snow is neither art nor science. It is just work.
I know whatever snow was in my driveway would have a short lifespan in April, but there was just ever so slightly enough of it that made it too much to ignore. So, me and the tailing celestial elements of my orbit bounced around the driveway, clearing and scraping and shuffling and no doubt giving the neighbours cause to rise a little earlier than they like.
It snowed and I moved the snow. It is April in Canada. Repeat until it is time to mow.
Regardless of weather, there will be no free pass tomorrow.
Tuesday at 6a is now a “must go” event at ATC. The morning session is hosted by a relative newcomer to the gym who runs a rigourous spin and body-weight workout that taxes everyone from the pro athletes to the old guys like me. Perhaps me more than the pros.
Joseph does not care about torturous asteroid belt analogies or weather.
In a few short weeks, his class has quickly evolved, such that to miss Tuesday morning is to risk being branded as someone who dodges the heavy lifting.
That is probably really unfair because pretty much every day at ATC comes with its own challenges. But it has become that Tuesday morning is to ATC what nuclear weaponry is to conventional warfare: it all hurts, but this is special hurt.
I can’t speak for everyone, but it makes me dig a little deeper – my 100 per cent is less than a lot of other people’s 100, but it’s all mine. I have to work harder to keep up, work harder to push out of what’s comfortable, and hope I don’t trigger a cardiac event in between those two realities.
If you ever saw the film/mock documentary This Is Spinal Tap, there’s a scene where a band member is explaining why the amplifier goes up to 11, as opposed to the more traditional “10”. And that’s what spinning with Joseph is like. You have to go to 11.
Today’s snow will be gone soon. The Blue Jays are back on TV. The NHL season is almost over and the serious business of playoff hockey will be undertaken without benefit of Canadian teams. The Masters is this week.
The new week is already running away from me like a dog across the Prairie. I can still see it, but I’d better hustle if I want to keep up.
Enjoy the chase.