Scheduled Slacking

As I sat down to write this post, I fired up the Google Machine for some inspirational inspiration. As usual, I wanted to start with a quote or meme or some funny picture. I like to think it mimics a drink on a blind date that, you know, loosens things up. When I asked the Google for an “image quote for training hard”, here’s what came up first:


 Would it KILL YOU to use an apostrophe?

Profound. Inspiring. Colorful and all caps. As an Expert of Nothing with No Relevant Degrees, I can say that I am impressed. Just one question: who the heck is Sheridyn Fisher? Should I know him/her? Is he/she some kind of exceptional athlete and nutrition expert? An Ironman? An Olympian?

No. She’s a model/actress.

Here she is, in an advertisement for telephone service in Australia (side note: they ride on the backs of kangaroos there). I believe Sheridyn is with the cartoon version of Macca:504393-sheridyn-fisher

Service not available in all areas? That makes me as cross as a frog in a sock.

Alright, so Sheridyn is training hard and eating clean, and she looks fantastic. I don’t look like that. I look like this:


I like donuts. 

I train mediocre, I eat dirty, and next week I am taking the ENTIRE WEEK OFF. Please don’t tell Sheridyn.

I head home to Chester County, PA from the Jersey shore for a week of dentist appointments, school supply shopping, (hopefully) a cortisone shot in my hip, a Broadway show, and possibly a trip to Hershey Park. My car needs an oil change and new tires.  More importantly, Bikey needs a new rear tire. I need new running shoes. As I saw the calendar filling up, I made a preemptive strike on that stress of “when can I find time to train?”  I decided on a week free of training. No swimming, biking, or running from Sunday to Friday. Normally, I would shake a little bit at the thought. Be honest, so would you. No training for a whole week? No masters swim class? No track workout? No group ride? NO PAINCAVE????

Let’s face it. If you are anything like me, you’re addicted. We can’t give the stuff up. Oh, we say we could if we wanted to, but we just don’t want to. Obviously, there are worse addictions. I saw that show “Interventions” one time. Yikes. I think we are good. Crazy, but good. And our crazy little habit makes us live longer, sleep better, and most days, our pants fit. Wait a minute. Let me be clear: my pants fit me, and your pants fit you. No community pants. I love you dearly, but come on.

I know that Sheridyn will most likely judge me harshly after reading this. (That’s right. This famous(?) model/actress is one of my Dirty Dozen readers. Well, she’s not dirty. She’s clean.) She’ll probably call me a bludger or a fat sheila. Name calling? Really, Sheridyn? Sticks and stones, Blondie. Enjoy your kale. I’m going to hang up the bike, hide the swim bag, and do some serious damage in the “Sweetest Place on Earth”.


I should probably share something like this, or I may need to borrow your pants.

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