Release the Dogs of Chaos

Or, why Daylight Savings sucks balls.

This week was rough, like wearing sandpaper underwear under a wool suit while rolling through a cactus patch.

For whatever reason, the “fall back” time change always hits me like a truck, but this year Ivy made sure it came with extra turbulence. Dogs don’t care about clocks, they care about routines, and when you have to poop, you have to poop. So this week their routine involved waking me up at 2:30 or 3 a.m. every. single. morning.

So instead of training sessions, I’ve been running on caffeine, minimal sleep, and pure survival instinct. The gym? Nope. Runs? Also nope. I thought I hit a wall a few weeks back, but that was just a cute little cardboard wall. I got through that one and tripped over my own cockiness, and plowed headfirst into the brick wall. So now I’m tired, and my head (and pride) hurts, and it’s time to switch things up a bit.

I’m not throwing in the towel by any means, just adjusting. I’m going to switch over to some home based workouts, since I have plenty of general equipment, so it will be more calisthenic type work and getting back into running. This will let me set the alarm for 45-60 minutes later, so if the dogs wake me up at 2:30, I can still go back to sleep for an hour and a half or so. Not a perfect solution, but hopefully a good workaround while everyone adjusts to the new time.

Still lifting. Still losing. Still showing up. Usually.