2.38 pm
It's 2.38 pm, today I still haven't made it through my morning routine. I'll write about the exhibition and stuff later, but for now, I just want to I dunno, something. I'm thinking now that between this and I think the last post where I was trying to watch 'The Sitter' while writing a blog post I have written two sleep deprived posts in a row.
I hope you don't get the impression I am suicidal or some shit, quite the opposite. This is 'good tired' the tired I imagine climbers of everest feel when they make it back into base camp after summiting. Or the tired a soldier feels when she is sent back from the war for a little R&R.
It's the tired that follows great productivity. Last week I was getting up at 6~6.30am and going to bed at 12~1pm and then lying awake stressing for at least 2 of the hours I would refer to as sleep. A sleep where you can't recall losing consciousness, but instead wake up to the alarm clock already stressed out and knowing everything repeats again.
I went to strange place in my mind last week, and it wasn't till about 6.20pm saturday that everything was finally in place and I was able to relax. And that lead to a couple of hours of 'normalcy' then around 11pm when everything was done and the exhibition was packed up, I sat down on a couch and immediately felt my body shutting down for hibernation. it was the first time I could comprehend having nothing to actually achieve the next day in like 8 months.
Despite procrastinating early on in the hairspray process, I really came out of my first exhibition with hairspray weighing on my mind, and that just got heavier and heavier from march thru to July, then as soon as I was done with it I was already onto my second exhibition. It was crazy, and I only really have this month off.
But I had Jordan on the brain or something and was up again at 7am on Sunday, rode to the beach on a beautiful father's day and did a 12km run from St Kilda to Brighton and back.
Riding home the long way round the Merri Creek trail I ran into a primary school friend who was doing a 32k practice run for Melbourne Marathon, which is only two weeks before the New York Marathon, from memory I was always faster than Swanny in primary school. But in highschool he became a real meat-axe, a Ballifornian rower type. I felt incredibly bad about stopping him with 5km to go, and he put me to shame. I have to step up the training. He's running with a hydration pack and looks like he has about 10kg's of muscle on me.
So this morning I did a 25k circuit, it was fucking hot and I lost most of 2kgs in fluid in the process, but I've been wrecked since. Moral of the story, I'm going to bed.
Life is good.
I hope you don't get the impression I am suicidal or some shit, quite the opposite. This is 'good tired' the tired I imagine climbers of everest feel when they make it back into base camp after summiting. Or the tired a soldier feels when she is sent back from the war for a little R&R.
It's the tired that follows great productivity. Last week I was getting up at 6~6.30am and going to bed at 12~1pm and then lying awake stressing for at least 2 of the hours I would refer to as sleep. A sleep where you can't recall losing consciousness, but instead wake up to the alarm clock already stressed out and knowing everything repeats again.
I went to strange place in my mind last week, and it wasn't till about 6.20pm saturday that everything was finally in place and I was able to relax. And that lead to a couple of hours of 'normalcy' then around 11pm when everything was done and the exhibition was packed up, I sat down on a couch and immediately felt my body shutting down for hibernation. it was the first time I could comprehend having nothing to actually achieve the next day in like 8 months.
Despite procrastinating early on in the hairspray process, I really came out of my first exhibition with hairspray weighing on my mind, and that just got heavier and heavier from march thru to July, then as soon as I was done with it I was already onto my second exhibition. It was crazy, and I only really have this month off.
But I had Jordan on the brain or something and was up again at 7am on Sunday, rode to the beach on a beautiful father's day and did a 12km run from St Kilda to Brighton and back.
Riding home the long way round the Merri Creek trail I ran into a primary school friend who was doing a 32k practice run for Melbourne Marathon, which is only two weeks before the New York Marathon, from memory I was always faster than Swanny in primary school. But in highschool he became a real meat-axe, a Ballifornian rower type. I felt incredibly bad about stopping him with 5km to go, and he put me to shame. I have to step up the training. He's running with a hydration pack and looks like he has about 10kg's of muscle on me.
So this morning I did a 25k circuit, it was fucking hot and I lost most of 2kgs in fluid in the process, but I've been wrecked since. Moral of the story, I'm going to bed.
Life is good.
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