Sigh. [Pause]. Sigh. Through the window another deep, dank, dark night is slowly sucking the last precious drops of motivation from a weary but restless mind. As my breath pushes clouds across the cold glass I feel it ebbing away as my thoughts perform their all too familiar dance between action and apathy. Tonight, once again, apathy wins out. A restless guilt ridden evening follows as I mull over my epic unproductivity.
Man I hate this time of year. The ever shortening days seem to smack me down like The Man With The Hammer. Perpetually tired, the years fitness gains disappearing quicker than leaves in the wind. No longer banking marginal gains a slow slide into the fatigue overdraft begins.
In recent years this new western ailment has, like so many others, coined its own trendy acronym: S.A.D. Seasonal Affective Disorder. I don’t know. Maybe this intolerance to winter is just my Portuguese ancestry remonstrating about the ever diminishing sun. Or maybe it’s all just hokum and this time of year I simply suffer from B.G.B.S. (Big Girls Blouse Syndrome) and need to H.T.F.U. (Harden The F*$k Up).
Either way, as is now customary at this time of the year, with fitness and motivation slipping away I face a familiar decision. Rest and re-energize or train harder thus ploughing an ever-deepening furrow of fatigue? I guess the question is have I learnt from past mistakes? Probably not. Best get on those rollers again then…