Infuriating

My foot is getter better. Yesterday I started weightbearing and even had a small walk (50 m) sans crutches, which was both encouraging and depressing. Encouraging because I do now see my way forward to regularity (in the broadest sense of the word). Depressing because every day that I am relatively immobile I can feel any slight fitness gains I had made just slip away.

I read somewhere that it takes at least three months to work up to some predefined level of fitness (can’t remember what but that isn’t the point) and only three weeks to lose it. I can believe that. I worked so hard for it and was seeing results; it just seems like a waste now.

I am infuriated but not surprised. Life has a habit of doing this to me.

Prior example 1: High School leaving exams. Spent three months  getting up at 5 am and staying up to 11 pm studying. That was ALL I did and my mock exams had me down for a really great mark. Then I got a bad stomach virus and ended up being hospitalised after passing out in one of my exams and struggling through the rest of them. Result: mediocre marks.

Prior example 2: First year Uni final exams. Study, study, study. I came down with glandular fever the day before the first exam.

There are many other examples as well but they all go to show I have ‘prior’ on this and that I don’t end up changing the status quo  much, if at all, no matter how much effort I expend.

People of a nice temperament than myself would probably be less effected by this; they’d maybe just chalk it up to wanting something badly enough so setbacks make them more determined.

Me, I feel one third annoyed, one third apathy (fuck it, I am not doing it again because it was too hard first time around) and one third I vaguely want to bite someone/thing very hard and growl whilst I’m doing it.

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