Sunday Morning | Heart attack waiting to happen

Today was to be a swimming day. Having been on the bike the past couple of days I was looking forward to a swim with no time pressure. It was an opportunity to enjoy being in the pool, to get some lengths under my belt. There was the added bonus of being back home before anyone else in the family got out of bed.

I have been tired so I didn’t set my alarm. I’m still getting back into the normal routine having enjoyed the relaxation of the festive period a little too much. My internal body clock has always been fairly reliable so I was confident that would wake up naturally in time to make the early morning session at the pool.

As planned, I woke up at around 7.30. It took me a few minutes to summon up the energy and the courage to look at the clock. 7.35… still plenty of time. I then had the inevitable dilemma… stay in my warm bed for a long Sunday lie, or move (fast) to swim.

The decision wasn’t straightforward. I had made the mistake of thinking about it. I should have just been up and out.

Two thoughts finally got me out of bed (1) I reminded myself why I was doing it in the first place and (2) that the exercise counts twice as much when you don’t want to do it! (See “Twice the satisfaction“)

After a very light breakfast, I headed to the pool…

The car park was surprisingly quiet. I allowed myself a self-satisfied thought to myself: “So, the New Year Resolutions don’t apply so much on a Sunday morning!”.

It was also quiet inside the pool. Too quiet.

Receptionist: “We have a gala here this weekend. All weekend. The pool’s closed.”
Me: “Aaaarrrrrrggggghhhhhhh!!!”

I guess it serves me right, but I’m not entirely sure why.

So, if you’re reading this over a leisurely breakfast, having had a long lazy lie, you can be satisfied that you have done exactly the same amount of exercise as I have so far today… without even thinking about it! Sometimes the thought just doesn’t count enough!

Things to do at the crack of dawn on a Sunday morning #23 The Petrol Strimmer

Who in their right minds thinks that using an petrol-powered garden strimmer at 07:30 on a Sunday morning is a reasonable thing to do? If it were me, I would feel selfish, guilty, self-conscious every time I pulled the trigger… irrespective of whether I wanted to get it done so I could watch the tennis this afternoon, or take little Jonny to his football match, etc.

Anyway, one of our delightful neighbours clearly doesn’t have the same hang-ups as me.
[I think we will come back to this is the future as I tend to feel guilty or responsible for a lot of things I shouldn’t, thus adding to the stress in my (former) life]

In our house, we tend to have special sensory powers – each of us has been given a “gift” that makes us super-sensitive to a specific sense. Louise has a “super” sense of smell. For me, it’s my hearing. Noise does my nut! I’m not super-sensitive in that I can’t handle loud sounds, but I start to struggle with multiple concurrent sounds and, if you couldn’t guess, inappropriate noises when I’m trying to sleep!

I suspect I’ll discover the guilty party when I’m on my morning walk. When I’ll do, I’ll look in an extremely disapproving, but unobtrusive way to register our disgust.

I have a sneaking suspicion that it’s the neighbours that have recently applied for planning permission. I was going to let my opportunity to review their plans slide as they’re unlikely to impact us in any way, but perhaps I should re-consider. perhaps they are planning a Bell Tower, or converting their garden into a Chicken Farm with a Cock to welcome each morning… both would seem strangely apt, and certainly par for the course!!!