Its quite depressing when you find that you are of an age where a couple of pints the night before have such a profound effect on you the next morning that you simply don’t want to do any exercise. I hit that issue today.
Waking up at 5am to a -4C temperature outside didn’t do my enthusiasm any good whatsoever, but I found myself lethargic to say the least and the prospect of pulling on the running gear for a run to work just filled me with a certain amount of dread which didn’t dissipate when I looked out of the window to see a frosted up car and knew I was going to have to scrape the windows in order to drive to the station. So instead I just got dressed for work and decided to walk from the station to the office in London and hopefully make it to the gym later.
I’m hoping this lethargy doesn’t last all day and that my head will clear a bit – looks like I will have to start settling for orange juice at the pub in future if I am to meet the training regime I have set myself.
There are some days when getting older isn’t much joy….
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