This St. Patrick’s Day celebration feels meager for one reason. I haven’t found a Shamrock Shake at my local McDonald’s. Say what you will about the quality of food that comes from that restaurant. They found a simple way to include everyone in a holiday.
I have no quarrel with that.
My quarrel has bigger fish filets to fry. For one, I today went head-to-head in a bout with heavy iron, 15-pound dumbbells to be precise.
To say ‘the workout was tough’ would belittle your intelligence. To be more explicit, I felt my right shoulder click each time as the arm swung upward at the hinge. By my 12th rep of the seated shoulder press, I was warm. By my 36th rep, my arms trembled when my hands were holding the weight overhead.
By my 3rd exercise but before the 48th and final rep, I could not see myself taking off my shirts to clean up later.
Despite the procrastination this morning, I managed some activity today and successfully completed the 1st step of the 2nd stage in a 4-tier plan. This wouldn’t be much of the blog post if I didn’t discuss more, but labels are limits.
My closet clearer than before, the focus tonight should center on clearing my home office. I have a writing desk tucked in a corner working as a table instead of somewhere I can produce more cryptic tomes.
That’s a problem.
Though, if I had to guess, I foresee my focus zooming on a chocolate mousse, video games, and nothing else before I crash entirely too late to wake up for exercise early in the morning.
We’ll see. I must say, despite bearing no Irish blood, I felt particularly good and lucky. I’m not sure why. I only got some mail. I found a box for a gift to a special someone. I enjoyed dinner after a hard workout.
Still, I’m feeling lucky.
