As I came back from the gym I found out that I had left my cell phone in the car, and this doesn't matter, but I also found out that my girlfriend's parents had given us some food. Some good food. Some sea food. To be eaten raw.
So we had many kinds of sushi, some spaghetti with raw sea urchins (the interior, d'oh!) and one kilo of raw tuna. I could have eaten this shit for hours and hours no problem.
Then, at the gym I got very sad. I got there very very psyched to send my last creation on the 60° wall, to discover that, yes, they did strip the walls. What the fuck. I was very very disappointed: good move, really. Fucking hell, they stripped all my new problems so that now I can't sandbag anyone on them. What did I set them for so?
Anyway I pushed myself to the other room, in the cozy company of many many iron plates. I finally got to the point of trying the last stage of my weights program: keeping the same number of reps and raising the weight, doing one move every ten seconds.
It's strange to tell how it feels when you're doing it, it sure felt hard, but those ten seconds give you that something that allows you to complete the task.
The thing I can tell you for sure is that now I feel destroyed. I feel knackered. I feel punished. It must work.
Fo' shizzle my nizzle.