Last week was supposed to be about getting back into the routine. Instead, food fatigue, logging fatigue, certification work, and side projects all teamed up on me, and somewhere in there I decided I’d earned a break from the constant watchfulness. After all, I’ve been pretty damned disciplined for like 3 months, so I figured a couple of loose days wouldn’t hurt. The problem is, a little slide can quickly turn into a bigger one.
What started as “I’ll loosen up for a day or two” became a full week of “Fuck it.” Protein, hydration, and discipline went out the window, and anything within reach went into my pie hole. Except, of course, enough water.
Gym and run days stayed fine through Thursday, but by Friday I woke up feeling off; maybe a cold brewing, maybe just worn down. I skipped the gym, played it safe, and planned to reset Saturday with my long run. Instead, my left calf, which had been feeling amazing, cramped up a kilometer in. I stopped right away. Run over.
That was my wall hitting back.
The frustrating part? I saw it coming. I could feel the discipline slipping and just let it happen anyway. I knew where it would lead, and still watched it unfold in slow motion. Now I’m paying for it — sluggish, foggy, and feeling like twelve kinds of ass.
But today’s a new day, and the start of a new week.
I’ve done my food prep, refilled the water jug, and I’m ready to rock again. The wall wins only if I stay down. Time to suck it up, move on, and do better; one meal, one rep, one run at a time.
Still lifting. Still losing. Still showing up. Usually.
The Recomp Chronicles 
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