fail

[digitaldiscipline]

so, from a physical performance standpoint, this weekend more or less sucked.

friday's chest and shoulder session was "barely get the prescribed stuff, and fail spectacularly at any of the stretch goals."

saturday's hockey game for the consolation bracket championship started well, but we lost on a last-minute goal, and there was a nontrivial amount of perceived bias in the officiating (most games, there are three or four penalties; in this one, we got six to the other squad's single one; i got taken out on a breakaway without a call being made, and some very "wait, what?" whistles were blown to send our guys to the sin bin)

having pregamed with an energy drink (10pm puck drops, delayed by the previous game having a prolonged trophy and photography ceremony, are not my friend), i didn't get to bed until damn near 2am, sore and exhausted and wired, and thus sunday's workout was so failtastic i couldn't even get to the third warmup set, and ended up taking a couple of post-massage naps to give everything a chance to recover, so yesterday's workout is trading places with today's programmed day off.

there was also a fairly acute but short-lived depressive bout on friday and saturday, which both contributed to and was exacerbated by the lousy athletic performance. not a feedback loop i particularly enjoy, that.

Comments

[jola.livejournal.com]

maybe time for a deload?

[etcet.livejournal.com]

this workout -is- a de-load, relatively speaking. but i think the massage kicked my ass by working out a whole bunch of pent-up bullshit and my body went into full NOPE mode. slept long, hard, and weird last night, so hopefully that's going to do what needed doing

[ivy]

Sympathy. You are still pretty awesome, even if I did have a crazy surreal dream about you. (Don't get involved with any transgenic cults! You ended up pretty happy but I think they wanted you to have sex with minotaur women after the fade-to-black, so, um. WTF brain, WTF.)

[etcet.livejournal.com]

*insert obvious lascivious remark about my beef consumption [here]*

that's still possibly less-weird than the dream i had sunday night, where Thorin Oakenshield had mile-long Rapunzel-esque hair and the plot was determined by squeezing Stratego-ripoff standup doohickeys out of a toothpaste tube.

i get to fret about / look forward to this evening's workout all day - i'm supposed to go after a 15# bench press PR and take video for my coach. in the interest of sanity, the big strong young guy i lift with occasionally from my team is going to come over and join me and provide spotting duties - while CS is very attentive to my lifting mechanics, she is somewhat limited by being trapped in my netbook a thousand miles away. :-)