Back to work this week. And to be honest I actually love it. I kind of miss the smell of documents piled up on the table, reading emails of one issue after another, looking at layout diagrams.
After my raya run, I was hungry for another cardio. Not to mention the fact that both my favorite athlete+blogger+superfemale have started their own routine exercise again, one back from confinement (but being American her confinement period's just 4 weeks!) and another back from a well deserved break after her third ultra.
Being on different timezones they update their workouts just when I am strapped to my table at work.
I'm thinking of I don't know, maybe bringing my jump rope at work and jump my jitters away.
Today, I was resolute. About working out. Yesterday was such a disappointment. No car, therefore stuck. Nighttime run hampered by a must-visit to my aunt's house.
Today I did cardio type C. And I think I'm at a better shape than I was before Ramadhan. At worst, the same level. I am ecstatic. I am proud. I am overjoyed.
But different cardio sports have different demands. You think your fitness is awesome because you're a runner, but then you can't last in a rubber set of badminton (believe me I've tried. It's like running 10k with lunges, squats, and jumping jacks thrown in between). I bet I can't return to my sports of choice with this level of fitness. I bet I'd be huffing and puffing.
Looking towards the day. But for now, I'm glad I got the groove back. The burn in my heart, the determination to finish. Something within me stirred.
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