Movin' on Up

I slept for shit last night. After the Moth story jam, I had to work on my revisions for workshop. Writing, and the creative process that comes with it, set my mind on fire. I typically have a hard and fast rule that I don’t write while I’m at Res … mainly because I just want to soak it all in. Good thing revisions don’t count. Anyway, because I started crafting a fictionalized moment from a real life experience, my brain was on fire. In the course of the five hours I was lying supine in my bed, my dreams took me from Roman times to Romaji camps and then to New York speakeasies. Blame my creative brain.

At any rate, this morning I woke heavy for my first lecture. It was rough, and every single particle inside of me wanted to ditch my planned workout time. I wanted, I needed a nap. But, I make schedules to adhere to them, so off to gym I went.

Kettlebell ladders and pylo/metcon work is always so much fun. I started slowly, knowing I would need more time than normal to warm up. And halfway through my sweat, I was feeling the fire. Much like the fire I felt last night working on my revisions, my body suddenly felt alive. Strong. Ready to push. So that’s what I did.

My kettlebell work went up by ten pounds, so I’m now using a forty for windmills and figure 8s, and a fifty for American swings and racked reverse lunges.

Woo.

But how does this relate to the theme of this month?

Two months ago, had I had such shit sleep, I would have felt it in my sweat. There’s no way the idea of moving up in weight would have ever entered my mind because my body was not properly fueled to do, well … much about anything. And though my intake still isn’t were it should be for the level of training I’m doing, I’m still a fuck of a lot better now than I was then. And it shows. Lifts are progressing. Muscle definition is showing. Both of those things are awesome, but what’s even more important is the way I feel. I’m not full on #beastmode just yet, but I’m a hell of a lot closer than I have been in a good long while.