When I exercise I walk.
Not a leisurely stroll around the park, looking at the birds and people.
I WALK.
I’m one of those guys on the upper floor at the Promenade Shopping Centre pounding out the laps at the crack of dawn, before the main lights are on.. There I am, in the semi-darkness with a whole bunch of other people, putting in the kilometers while waiting for the lights to come up and the music to start at 7:00am sharp.
(Well, that was me until the pandemic came along and kept closing the upstairs at the Mall. Let’s see what happens over the next month or so).
But I confess — for the six months before the pandemic came along, I wasn’t doing it regularly. I had succumbed to my Hump Day (or maybe it should be called Insurmountable Hump Day Syndrome (IHDS)).
Except, my Hump Day wasn’t Wednesday. It was Tuesday.
I normally took the weekends off from my walking. Those were (still are) my (relative) sleep-in days. But Monday morning, the radio would go off at 0600 and I’d bounce out of bed, full of vim and vigour, pull on my exercise wear from the pile on the floor beside the bed and head out.
And I’d have a pretty good day after that.
But then came Tuesday. 0600. The radio. And I’d say “OMG, I’m so sore and tired and I went to bed late last night…” (and I’d pull the covers back over my head and fall asleep). Wednesday morning — oh that’s for my networking group. Oops, so was Thursday. And by the time Friday rolled around I’d say “Well, I haven’t walked at all this week, I’ll do it next week…” And guess what?
But on those rare days that I managed to pull myself out of bed on Tuesday, I somehow found time on the other days to walk.
Tuesday became my Insurmountable Hump. If I couldn’t get over it on Tuesday, the week was a washout, exercise-wise.
Why am I telling you this?
Because I know that some of you have Bookkeeping Insurmountable Hump Day(s). You promise yourselves that “Yes, this Thursday is going to be THE day I’ll get to it.” But the radio goes off and you groan and say “Nope!” and pull the covers back over your head. Or you DO get up and get going and walk into your office, look at the pile of paper and say “I don’t know where to begin. I’ll do it next week”.
If that’s you, see, I get it. Been there, done that (me with walking, you with bookkeeping).
Need a helping hand to climb over that hump?
That’s what I do.
Wanna talk about it?
