Six weeks out from one of those birthdays that end in a zero. Three score ...
I’ve always told myself that I was never more than six or eight weeks out of being in top shape. I think maybe that has slipped a bit, but if ever there was a time to see, this is it.
Even if I can’t quite get to the acme, six weeks of concentrated effort ought to put me part way up the mountain, and it’s a lot easier to stay in shape than it is to get into shape.
So. Djurus every day, and maybe sambuts, too. The chinning bar every day and push-ups and crunches, and the rope and barbell on alternate days, or maybe every third day, depending on how recovery feels.
I gotta hop to it. I ain’t getting any younger, even though I'm not a man my age ...
1 comment:
Look at it this way... I think you're at the age that's at the scrabbling-by-toenails edge of some serious life extension technology, and that's for people of normal health for their age; your physique puts many 30-year-olds to shame.
And if not, fuck it. It's all just quantum smoke anyway.
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