Author: Ninjafang

Abject Misery

~ Ninjafang ~ Leave a comment
Soir Bleu – Edward Hopper (1914)

This is all a joke, some kind of sick, twisted, fucked up joke isn’t it?

Those are the words my girlfriend said to me, as she grieved the loss of her dreams.

Life has been a hurricane of losing moments so far.

I’m hurting in ways that I can’t seem to pin down. There will be moments in the day where I feel like crying. Others when I’m OK and focused on work. But the deep wound inside will weep and suddenly, right in the middle of something, I’m grappling with troubling thoughts of failure and hopelessness.

In the span of a month, I’ve been hit with 2 extremely distressing piece of news.

The first, is that I am about to lose my job in 2 months.

The second is that all my research into building a home, investing in a future with my partner, has now come completely undone because of a family member pulling out of the project.

Right on the cusp of starting this project.

There is only so much a guy can take at once.

But … let’s contextualise everything before I start my wallowing in self-pity.

For the entirety of 2026, my partner and I have been discussing when we are going to move out. To take complete ownership of my personal failings, I have not done a good job saving money in my 20s. Now, as a guy in his 30s, I’m trying to make up for it.

My partner was never as stupid as I was. She’s been smart, switched on and saving hard since she first conceptualised a house.

So, in other to buy a house in Melbourne, I needed a bit of assistance from my parents to boost my savings. I originally asked them for 20K to help me, but they couldn’t find a way to do so, without redrawing from their mortgage.

I felt guilty asking, but I knew that I needed the help in some shape or form.

As I grappled with this, my parents came to me with a different idea. Tear down the original home and create a dual occupancy. Two homes, side-by-side, brand new, all the finishings you could want. Sure, the home might cost the same as my appetite for buying a home, but it’ll be worth a whole lot more because my parent’s home is in an affluent area.

It was an ingenious plan. Not only would my parents win, but I would as well, because I didn’t have to pay as much for a home, valued at least 1.5x the amount I paid to build it. It would set me and my girl up perfectly in life. We would have an asset worth a million plus, whilst only paying a much lesser mortgage.

We would get to build a new home, design the kitchen the way we want to, plot out how we would use the bedrooms, decide on floorboards, customise our sinks, entertain ideas about garage storage …. laugh about our bathrooms’ storage and really pour our hearts into this build.

This was going to be a dream home, a beautiful place that we can truly call our own. A privilege that so many people don’t get.

From a finance perspective, my partner and I were going to live on one side, whilst my parents and younger brother was going to live in the other.

And so … with that …. we put aside the idea of buying and put on the building hat. We went to countless house inspections. Met with 7 different builders. Talked to a broker, a conveyancer, a sub-division expert.

Every single weekend was dedicated to the house. We didn’t have a day go by, where we didn’t talk about the house. Do we want the kitchen this way? How many mm long should the walkway be? Do we want a floating staircase, a sink in the butler pantry? How do we feel about Miele, Bosch or Westinghouse appliances?

Just recounting all these conversations and the passion we had for them, hurts.

I was so excited for this as we kept getting deeper into the build. And if I was excited, my partner was doubly so. She poured so much into this project that I was in awe. She called up people constantly, asking questions after questions to make sure she knew all the details just right. She went to bed thinking about what kind of floorboards she wanted in the house. She talked to me about how our kids might go to a better school.

There wasn’t a single ounce of doubt in her mind. This project was going to happen. We were going to get ahead in life.

But (and there is always a fucking but) … as it turned out, my family did not do their due diligence.

The worst part of any dream … is the idealist who came up with the idea, but didn’t do any checking to see if it was feasible.

The most basic, bare minimum step was to check if everyone was on-board.

Everyone said yes initially. Mum, Dad, Younger Brother … but as things got more real, as my parents and I visited each display home, suddenly the price of everything cast the whole thing in doubt.

I told them early on, just how much this was going to cost. My parents said they were going to be OK with it. I told them to check with my brother …. and they told me, he was going to be OK with it. I took them at their word. I had no reason to doubt anyone.

After all, when my parents pass away, that home would be his. So, the split would work 5 ways. My partner and I, on one side, my brother, mother and father on the other. Everyone wins.

Live, Laugh, Love.

But as we got further through the project, I started to realise that there were massive communication problems.

My parents were slow to move and didn’t check in on me regularly. Perhaps my partner and I also moved too fast, thinking that everyone was on board.

The old phrase …. assumptions kills or when you assume, you make an ass out of you and me …. truly did rear its ugly head.

Whether it was my inexperience, arrogance or misplaced trust, I didn’t do my due fucking diligence.

I should have known better than to trust my parents, who have shown that they were dragging their feet in this project, through no real fault of their own. After all, it was my brief initial chat to them, that I was confused as to why my partner and I were doing the lion share of the work putting this together.

This dynamic, of doing all this research, trying to get the roadmap working for us, understanding dense and complicated processes and then me having to brief my parents was exhausting. It never really allowed me to switch off and get everyone in on one table.

Every week would follow the same formula …. I would spend my hours at work, calling up builders, town planners etc, and then organise a meeting with them in the afternoon or on the weekend. And then I would come back to my parents on Monday and update them.

It meant that for only one day, a Tuesday, I had a proper respite from this project.

However, as anyone can rightfully point out … no fucking wonder you guys didn’t cover the fundamentals and basics.

We never had a proper group meeting after our initial chat, about this whole concept and when you don’t meet regularly and actually hash things out in person … you are going to forget some very basic fundamentals.

It was two parallel lines trying to get to the same destination but never converging and arriving as one train. My parents were relying on my updates, going at 40 km/h. My partner and I were going at 100 km/h and frustrated with my parents’ lack of speed.

I never got a proper chance to join everything together, because even though I was the middleman, the project manager, I was too wrapped up in my own problems. Whilst I did see this problem … I never had the chance to fix it until it blew up in my goddamn face.

Because whilst my partner and I were zooming along, there was a very critical fundamental issue we overlooked. The panic and feelings of my younger brother. I mistakenly believed that my parents were constantly updating him, the way I was updating them.

But that wasn’t the case, because he was going through a whirlwind of hurt and panic on his side. His own partner was refusing to engage with this. She was appalled by the idea of living with my parents, afraid of the lack of the privacy and by the sounds of things, unable to see how it benefitted her.

Worse, my brother was going through a crisis of his own. His job was clearly too taxing for him, draining him of every dollar, every ounce of will to live and affecting his mental state. He worked way too long and was now in a prison of his own making. He’s refusing to seek help, because he doesn’t want to burden others. There was even a time where he was taken to the hospital, but we weren’t aware of it until a day after it happened.

The most awful part of this, is that because he is interstate, we are unable to go to support him.

“I’m not mentally stable right now.”

How the hell am I supposed to deal with that.

I can’t. I don’t know how to fix that, but all I can is swallow my rage and try to be there for him. Because he has definitely said no. He can’t be a part of this project and without his finances, my parents can’t fund the other side either.

So, despite three months of heart, passion and planning hours my partner and I poured into this … it has now been stumped right before we even start.

The fury my partner has felt at my family and I have been biblical and rightfully so.

All I can do is take it on the chin and apologise. But I know this isn’t enough. She is beyond hurt. She has been betrayed, led on and finally robbed of her dreams. She literally grieved when I told her.

Something inside of her broke, because I know that when you are in the depths of grief and pain, you may start to laugh absurdly.

My partner did just that. She cried so hard, that they turned to gut-wrenching sobs and then to cold, bitter laughter.

My whole support network, my best friend, my partner in life, my girl … now cannot stand looking at me, because I represent a family that failed her. This whole thing has put my entire relationship with her into jeopardy. It wasn’t just 3 months of work and emotional build up at stake here, but also my 4 year relationship.

Worst still, she cannot fully afford to get angry with me, because at the moment, I’m trying to find a new job.

And here comes the context to the second round of misery.

Whether it’s through complacency or perhaps there truly is something about me that the business doesn’t believe in, I’ve been forced out. Even though I believe I am a valuable member, a hard worker and have proven myself over and over, there is something that I am lacking, that my manager sees.

What that is, I’m not sure. Because it seems like even she can’t tell me, what it is, about me in particular that makes her want to drive me out.

But that is where the chips lie. I’ve been forced out.

However, my manager did give me a grace period of three months to try and land something before I am leaving in October. So I suppose there is that small mercy.

Whilst I was already looking for a new job, this news was an incredibly bad blow to my ego. I thought I had more time to find a new job, but now there is a three month ticking time bomb over my head.

And so here I am, looking at jobs, trying to think about my new move, my new work-home … and what I want that to look like, what I think I am good at and what will make me enough money to sustain my lifestyle with my partner and my hobbies.

It’s all so incredibly depressing to have to think about yourself in this way. On a day to day basis, we never evaluate just how much are we worth?

To ask the question “what is the sum of who I am?” is so exhausting.

You have to try and sum up who you are, and then sell it.

And I’ve failed to sell who I am 5 times now.

5 interviews …. 5 failures.

Every single one, another nail in the coffin that I am trying to get out of.

And the panic is starting to build more and more.

I suppose this is the part where I start my self-pity party.

But I’ve been robbed of doing so for so long now. Half my mind is solely occupied with trying to work out a way to get out of this gargantuan mess. The other half is furiously trying to regulate my emotional state.

I’ve never felt more alone, more lost and more empty in my entire life.

Nothing I’ve ever done has quite prepared me for the absolute bottom of the barrel I’m experiencing right now.

No job. No house. No confidence. Potentially even no girl, if I cannot fix things.

This is truly the darkest hole I’ve ever been in.

I can feel myself staring balefully upwards in this prison that life has thrown me into, a deep dark hole that resembles the pit of Lazarus as seen in The Dark Knight Rises.

The light is so far away, but I need to climb so very far to get out.

As I am writing this, I’m applying for jobs, and praying that someone will accept me and see the talent and skills I can deliver.

I realise now, what a gift it is, to stay with a company for a very long time.

But what a curse it is too, to stay at a level where you never grow.

I know that I’ve outgrown my workplace, that there is nowhere for me to advance, that I’m starting to show signs of boredom. It was inevitable that I was going to leave and in some way, this is still on my terms.

Yet the timing of this all, could not be worse.

It’s so hard to regulate one’s emotional state when you’re always panicked, always despairing and just trying to catch a breath after all the shit that has been thrown at you.

It’s even harder to do so, when I know that I need to give my partner space and that I can’t talk to her until she’s healed a bit more.

So right now I’m all alone. Alone to deal with my parents, my brother, my girl and my own problems. I know it’s bad because right now I’ve resorted to listening to the L.A. Noire theme over and over again. I haven’t heard this theme in a very long time, typically reserving it only for the most bitter moments. Back in my younger years it was the theme I liked to associate myself with, when I was in the darkest of times. When I just wanted to stare out in the distance and try to process everything.

As I’m writing this, I’m struck by how much more processing I need as I get older. I know that physically you take longer to recover, but it seems that emotionally that is also the case.

Emotional wounds don’t heal quite as fast, even though, yes you got a tougher skin, more capable of taking on critical or mean feedback, but the moment something hits through your armour … it takes a lot longer to heal. What was once something that my ego merely brushed off, is now something that marks me for a lot longer. I get flashbacks to the incidents or worse still, I repeat the same mistakes that led to that mental scar.

Because changing is harder as you get older. And all of this happening right now, is forcing me to change.

And not just at my comfortable pace. No …. at a rapid speed. I need to shed all of this baggage and emotional desolation and somehow transform it into something useful.

While yes, I’m tired, exhausted and clearly a bit unstable, I know that I have to push through, that I can’t let all of this break me. Because whilst I’m not 100%, I still got plenty of things that I can do, because in all honestly, the only way to climb out of this dark mental prison, is to work my way through the list.

  • Repair things with my girlfriend
  • Help my younger brother get better
  • Find a new job and fast
  • Start pivoting to finding a good home
  • Learn to forgive everyone involved
  • Start saving as much money as possible
  • End things on a good note at my current workplace

The list goes on and on, but like the epiphany I had the other day, even just doing one of those things is a much bigger and more important task than I think it is.

Sometimes, even the smallest and most trivial tasks can rob you of the most precious thing you have …. time.

And time is always going to be against me.

So I guess I better stop this stupid meandering shit and get to work.

In the eternal words of Nancy Sinatra’s You Only Live Twice …

You only live twice … or so it seems.

One life for yourself … and one for your dreams.

You drift through the years … and life seems tame.

‘Til one dream appear …. and love is its name.

And love is a stranger … who’ll beckon you on

Don’t think of the danger … or the stranger is gone.

This dream is for you … so pay the price

Make one dream come true … you only live twice.

I guess I better choose which dream I want.

~ Damocles.

The New Car ….

~ Ninjafang ~ Leave a comment
My new Toyota RAV4 XSE 2WD in a Graphite Colour

Besides a house, a car is arguably the most expensive thing a person can own.

And this car is a crazy milestone for me. It encapsulates so much more than I realise, when I stare at it.

I’ve driven my old white 2015 Toyota Corolla for nearly a decade now. It’s been through a lot, and under my hands, it’s nearly hit 200,000 kilometres. Throughout that entire time, I never really thought about getting a new car. I figured that it was my car, until the wheels came off, which, to my surprise, it hasn’t.

But my partner convinced me otherwise. She knew that I needed a new chapter, a new adventure and a reset. All the memories associated with that white Corolla were going to be superseded by this new car.

So, we went car hunting …

I rejected Mazda outright.

Toyed with the idea of perhaps buying an Audi, my dream car brand since I was a teenager.

Winced at the price of Lexus.

Seriously considered Honda for a second.

Laughed at the idea of ever stepping into a KIA or Hyundai.

Shook my head at the ridiculousness of BMW.

Buried the idea of ever looking at Mercedes or Porsche.

Until we came back to the same brand that I had been advocating since day 1 …. Toyota.

Toyota make the best cars in the world.

Yes, Ferrari will always have the greatest sex appeal. Aston Martin has the approval of Bond. Porsches have the legacy of 911s. But there is a reason why Toyota are everywhere.

To use a gun analogy, they are the Glocks of the car world. Unflinchingly reliable. Almost monotonous in how good they are at every metric. They are boringly excellent cars.

They’re not as expensive as a Mercedes, nor as cheap as your Mazdas or Subarus. They don’t have many ugly designs like BMW nor are they above collaborating with others. After all, the aforementioned Subaru and BMW gave us the iconic reimagining of the new 86 and Supra.

Toyota cars have been proven time and time again to be incredibly reliable, well made cars with an enviable service record.

They can be modified to carry .50 calibre M2 Browning machine guns in their flatbeds.

They’ve won the 24 Hours of Le Mans five consecutive times.

They collaborated with BMW for the new Supra. Subaru for the 86.

They sell the most cars at any given time, anywhere in the world.

Their HiLux survived every thing the boys at Top Gear threw at it.

And in my personal experience, they have amazing turning circles, no matter the size of the car.

So in the end, I swapped my old 2015 Toyota Corolla for a 2025 RAV4 XSE.

And I gotta say, I love my new car. I really do. Not only is the colour combination exactly what I hoped it to be, it’s also an aggressive looking machine. I truly love the current generation of RAV4 aesthetics.

The aggressive grill of the front end, with the angry white lights, that contrasts nicely with the black bonnet protector … the black accents that help add an edge to the look of the car and just how the body sweeps upwards to the square rear end … all of it just hits right for me.

I’m also really happy that I listened to my instincts about the colour of the car. I knew that all black wouldn’t look very nice, as my XSE comes with shiny black accents along the bottom and top of the car. So instead, I went for a lovely graphite grey and it honestly couldn’t have turned out better.

Add in the all black wheels, and my RAV4 is a tall, roomy car that makes me very happy.

It’s also a beautifully smooth drive. I love how spacious it is inside, and the way how the hybrid engine feels. It forces me to drive a bit slower, at a relaxed pace, because I can feel the slight lag when I press down on the pedal, as the engine has to choose either to use the battery or the petrol engine.

This lag is actually calming. Yes, I miss the rush of slamming down my pedal and getting instant feedback, but it led to a lot of speeding fines. Here, the RAV4 isn’t going to break any 0-100km/h in x seconds records. But that is perfect for me.

It still has that silky smooth turning circle I love about Toyotas, and because it’s so roomy inside, I actually have a place to put my left elbow, so that I casually lean whilst I drive.

I also love the heated seats, how fast it takes to defog the windows and how big the screen is, which makes reversing a breeze.

The added height is a new thing to me as well. I’m so used to being very low, that the taller RAV4 is a welcome change.

The boot space is also insane. I can fit so much stuff in the back, that it’s genuinely incredible. The car boot door is also so big, that it becomes a very nice roof over my head as I pack things.

But there is a very special thing about this car that I really love beyond how it looks and all its nice features.

It’s what it means to me. An intangible element to a very expensive purchase.

This RAV4 represents what a changed man I’ve become.

After all, it’s a SUV. A family car. Sure, it’s an aggressive looking family car, but at the end of the day, it’s built for comfort not speed.

I chose this model, because it’s an investment for the future.

And I really do love this new car. It’s so comfortable to drive, the sound system is amazing and it’s so quiet and effortless. The car just glides over the road.

The car represents change, a new chapter and my new focus on something else, something bigger than me.

A family.

Man, that’s a scary but exciting thought right there.

~ Damocles.

Mortality

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Charon carries souls across the river Styx by Alexander Dmitrievich Litovchenko

A week ago, I learned that my grandfather passed away

As per tradition with my culture, I was told that as the eldest male amongst the grandchildren there, I had to write a speech about him.

This was a struggle.

Because every single minute I’ve ever spent with the man, was difficult.

We didn’t speak the same language, barely interacted beyond translations from my mother and a strong handshake that gradually got weaker with his age.

He seemed fond of my brother and I, that we had grown up quite tall and strong for boys our size.

But beyond his grateful smile, I don’t really know the man. I didn’t even really know his full name, let alone what he did in the past for a job or his history.

In truth, he was very much a stranger to me, with the sketch outline of a grumpy personality.

The speech I wrote wasn’t very long. If there was a sketch outline of the man, I didn’t exactly fill it in. All I did was just bold the outline itself with a thicker marker.

A letter to my Grandfather …. 

When I think about my grandfather, I think about how happy he always looked when he saw any of his grandchildren come up to greet him. Our family has always been big, but there seems to be a light in his eyes that glowed when he saw his grandkids around him. 

There’s a quote that I think is so true of so many grandparents, that I think about often … “That’s the thing about being a grandfather. I get to do all the things I wished I’d done with my children, and the things I regret, I get to do different.” Grandfather was always so gentle with all of us, from me all the way down to Isaac.

I like to think that he loved being a grandfather, because when we all came around, he seemed happy, content that there are kids running around, adults talking and making a fuss over him and grandma. There was a peace on his face that could only come from having family over. 

I really appreciated his quiet company. I and all the grandkids may not have been able to speak with him all the time, but we knew that he was proud of us, happy to see us and always glad when we could spare some time to visit him. It showed in the smile he greeted us with, the hug he would give us and the handshake he would offer. 

That quiet pride and love he had for all of us was special and we’re all going to miss that in our lives moving forwards.  

So thank you Grandfather for always being happy to see us, for allowing us to make you smile and for being a grandfather that we could always make time for. 

We’re all going to miss you and we hope that you can rest peacefully, knowing that we’re all going to make you proud. 

We’ll look after your children now. 

As you can see, it’s not exactly a illuminating biography of the man. In fact, I was so stuck on what to say for his small obituary, that I had to borrow a line from one of the greatest fictional grandfathers in film history, Kevin Costner’s John Dutton of Yellowstone fame.

I suppose the best line I wrote was “looking after your children”, which served as a rather poignant reminder of our duties to look after the elderly.

Ultimately, I felt more sorry for my mother, who was there when he passed, looking after him in the retirement home. What a traumatic experience. I can’t imagine the grief, loss and anguish she felt, when she realised that he died right in front of her.

My grandfather’s death got me thinking though. Pondering about my own mortality and how I view the world.

I suppose it’s time that I start viewing the world more like an adult. Fearful of the smallest thing that could end you.

After all, the next day I could suffer a heart attack, or get into a car crash. I could slip on something and hit my head on something as it travels down. I could get bit by a venomous animal, crushed by construction work or be unfortunate enough to be on a beach, in the middle of a mass shooting.

But if I’m truly honest, what haunted me throughout the entire funeral, was this one question: How am I going to be remembered?

Seeing the number of people that turned up to the funeral, I was struck by how little friends he had. It was mostly extended family and beyond that turned up. I didn’t see any or many drinking buddies or fellow church-goers, it was just a very solemn affair amongst family.

I didn’t hear any fun anecdotes, or wistful nostalgic trips down memory lane. Instead it was just a few photos of him back in his home country and more recent selfies that had been taken by his daughters.

Will I be remembered this way? Summed up in a collage of 15 photos? Will there be anyone left to actually tell my story? Will they capture me in the way I want to be captured?

Those questions haunted me the entire funeral weekend.

So I suppose the question I want to answer here in a written format, if I was to die tomorrow, what would I want to be remembered for?

I’m struck by a certain film that I loved as a child, Troy (2004) starring Brad Pitt as the imperious Achilles. In that film, there is a recurring theme about kleos, the ancient Greek term for “glory” or “renown.” Achilles, goes to Tory, because he wants to be remembered. It is not enough that a potential wife and child will remember his name. Instead, he wants it etched into the fabric of human history.

If you stay in Larissa, you will find peace. You will find a wonderful woman, and you will have sons and daughters, who will have children. And they’ll all love you and remember your name. But when your children are dead, and their children after them, your name will be forgotten… If you go to Troy, glory will be yours. They will write stories about your victories in thousands of years! And the world will remember your name. But if you go to Troy, you will never come back… for your glory walks hand-in-hand with your doom. And I shall never see you again.

When I was younger, my desire to earn kleos was all-consuming. I wanted to be different. I wanted to be unique and achieve something that very few have. I would lash out at anything that would pin me in a box, that I was a simple puzzle that could be solved.

This made me learn and be fascinated by a lot of things. Fencing. Skateboarding. Alternate music. Napoleonic History. Roman History. Military tactics. NASA. Formula 1. Classical Music. Krav Maga.

I wanted to be good at everything, so that people could look at me in awe.

My arrogance knew no limits, because deep down, I truly believed I was better than the faceless, nameless “masses” out there.

Nowadays, all the kleos I crave, is in the sport I am mediocre at: tennis.

I’m addicted to winning. It’s my inner crave for glory, ignited again.

But I don’t want people at my funeral talking about what a great tennis player I was. Because I never competed on a professional level, I don’t have the capacity to brag about my skills on court.

At the risk of stroking my ego to obscene levels, I hope that people will talk about me as interesting.

I would like to hear the question: “Did you know Damocles did this?” or “Did you know that Damocles was passionate about this?”

That to me, is the best compliment of all, because it shows that not everyone knew all my interests and that I did have a lot of interests, hobbies and passions.

If I can get those questions and discussion going at my funeral, then I know that I really did do my best to explore as much of life as I could. I didn’t limit myself to just my job and one hobby.

I was a curious individual and that showed. I also hope that I am remembered as a moral man, a guy who tried to make the right and best decisions constantly for his family, friends and partner.

I have so much that I am interested in, on a daily basis.

From a sports perspective, I’m passionate about Baseball, Tennis, Formula 1, Fencing and Cricket.

I’m also intrigued by SailGP, MotoGP, English Premier League, Boxing and Free-Running.

I like to think that I am decent at: Writing, Self-Reflection, Emotional Control, Critical Thinking, Simplification of Complex Concepts, overall Athletics, Cooking, Event Management and Film Criticism.

Things that I’ve had a phase in are: Parkour, Skate-boarding, Piano Playing, Journalism, Marine Biology, Paintball and Krav Maga

What are some of my passionate topics that I love to talk about? Napoleonic History, Roman History, Mythology (Norse, Greek or Egyptian), Geopolitics, Military History, Modern Military Tactics and Equipment, Science-Fiction Novels, Film, Lego, Watches, Metal Music, James Bond … etc. etc.

As I am listing all these things I am interested in, I’ve realised that I can’t really sum up who I am, everything I’ve liked and been dabbling in, in a single blog post.

Not only that, I’m also somewhat afraid that if I can sum up who I am in a blog, then that somehow suggests that I can stop being interesting.

An existential crisis indeed.

To sum up what has been a long ramble about death, and my own legacy in a few succinct words:

I’m afraid that when I die, people won’t remember me as interesting.

And to me, that is the worst type of legacy I could leave behind.

So thank you, Grandfather, for the reminder that I need to stay humble, be willing to learn and remain forever curious about the world around me.

~ Damocles

Winning

~ Ninjafang ~ Leave a comment
Challengers (2024) remains one of my favourite films about tennis from an avant garde director …. it also has one of the best NIN scores ever made.

Today, I won my first ever proper tennis match.

The score line? 6-4 6-2

But let’s take a step back here.

It was against a high school friend of mine, a life-long friend that agreed to be my tennis partner in 2026 and who has taken significant steps to improve his game.

It wasn’t an official match. No officials refereed this little match between us.

But …. It wasn’t an easy game either.

For months now, we’ve been relatively equal.

We were both rusty from years away from the court.

We were relatively similar in height, but he was a mite bit taller.

We both liked Wilson racquets, however I splurged early in my tennis journey and used a much more expensive Blade model that I now felt ashamed to use with my inferior skills.

We both couldn’t hold our serves. He was more consistent, but with anemic power on both his first and second serve. Mine were powerful, but uncontrollable. They would slam into the net or blast wildly outside the service box.

At first we couldn’t last longer than a set. He would normally win, as his serves wouldn’t let him down, but mine did with alarming regularity.

We played once a week, but I had a slight advantage as my partner/girlfriend actually wanted to learn how to play, so I had my hand on my racquet more often, coaching her.

This led to me developing a lot of defensive capabilities because I often had to chase the ball more and lob them back into the court. This particular shot would serve me well in this match.

Today, as I gripped my racquet, I felt a bit more confident.

I had been playing with my partner’s friends and my serve was holding OK. I had been practising for weeks, constantly trying to get “on-top” of the ball and make sure it would clear the net and land in.

The serves were now getting more consistent and starting to dart away from my opponents or force an error out of them.

It was becoming a weapon.

A weapon that I didn’t use very well in the first game, because I lost it.

0-1

Not a good start.

But the crack in the armour showed. My tennis buddy didn’t hold serve either.

1-1

Time to reset. Time to get my head out of the funk and focus on the toss.

Up the ball goes, down goes the racquet and crack goes the ball as it ricochets off the ground and surprise my friend with its bounce. He hits it back awkwardly, and I gently slice the ball close to the net.

He runs in, and softly hits it back …. whereupon I lob the damn thing over his head. He tries to jump, but as he lands, all he can do is laugh in appreciation as my lob land inside the court and away from him.

This is now a recurring tactic. I open him up with a big serve, then bait him to come in, before lobbing it over him. Most of the time, it works, but when it does, we get a good rally going where I’m testing my speed and athleticism in trying to reach the ball to return it.

When we get into a rally, it’s he who dictates the game with his volleys, height and reach.

The game goes on and on, neither of us holding serve.

Until suddenly, I try something different at 30-40, 4-4.

I slice the serve.

It catches him completely by surprise and he is unable to do anything as the ball arcs away from his racquet for an ace.

This tiny ace, changes everything. Suddenly, I feel like I’ve wrestled momentum back onto my side. It’s an opportunity and I need to break ahead.

I win the next two games with ease.

6-4

Then its onto the second set, where I’m able to break his serve, hold my own to a dominant win.

I’m tired yes, but I can also tell I got a bit more in the tank than my buddy. He might run marathons, but I got the stronger will to win in tennis.

When the dust settles, it’s a pretty dominant performance. In the second set, I can feel myself being more aggressive, attacking the baseline and going “rip city” on easy balls. I’m not double-faulting as much and my serves have a nasty bounce to them.

Meanwhile, my buddy is starting to throw in the towel. He knows I got the momentum and his very flat serves aren’t really deterring me.

I am also starting to experiment. A little jump before hitting my forehand. Sprinting faster to the ball so that I can try and make a desperate shot to recover.

I’m now starting to loosen up, playing a more experimental game where I want to practice certain shots.

All in all, it was a really good game and a testament to me slowly improving.

I’m also really proud of the way how I handled my occasional double-fault. I don’t let it get to me as much. I have a more reliable second serve that I know I can use to at least fight out the point.

Before in the past, I used to mentally fold. I couldn’t analyse my serve and figure out what went wrong. I would just collapse and try to focus on returning only.

In this game, my serve just felt better. Granted, it’s still not quite where I want it yet, lacking a bit of power, a bit of spin and a bit of control, but it’s a lot better.

Tennis is really becoming my sport. It’s the game I want to go all in on and start playing more competitively. This win, in around 1 hour and 40 minutes, has fuelled my desire to keep upping my game.

I’m now seriously thinking about getting a coach and playing even more regularly than my usual 2-3x a week. I want to meet a player so good, that he makes me want to almost quit, so that I can be humbled.

It feels good to know that I got the beginning of the mental acumen, physicality and skill to try and win a proper match. I might be able to call myself an amateur tennis player now. But that title will only feel right after I’ve won a few more and I’m certain those wins are going to be rare.

Now it’s time to see if I can lose a set and try to come back in a best of 3.

~ Damocles.

2 Months into the 2026 Fitness Journey

~ Ninjafang ~ Leave a comment

Tennis has consumed my life.

I’m down to 84kgs, which means I have lost 3 kgs in 2 months.

This is amazing progress, something I didn’t realise until I typed it out. It’s also gone to show the lengths I’ve taken to commit to this fitness journey.

There are now way more positive routines that I’ve instilled into my daily life.

Immediately after lunch, I like to go for a walk at the office. It’s nothing punishing, just a 30-minute walk at a leisurely pace but it’s enough to keep my legs moving and chipping away at the 10K daily milestone. Averaging around 3-4 thousand steps, up a small hill that just challenges me slightly, it’s the perfect way to shake off the rust of sitting down for 3 hours and get myself moving again.

I like the walk, not only because it gets me away from the office and the stress, but also because it’s nice to breathe the external air and suffer the weather conditions.

Rain, Sun, Wind … I just grit my teeth and get through it because not moving would be worse.

My meals have also shrunk down, to try and accommodate the general rule of outputting more than inputting. But like any part of going on an exercise plan, dieting is the worst part of it all.

I’ve relapsed a little bit here and there. Inhaled a bag of crisps, ate with my eyes over fresh hot chips and downed a bag of Natural Confectionary candy …. but overall I’ve been trying to hold steady. These relapses only happen once a week and I’m trying to not cave or at the very least not eat the whole damn thing in one sitting.

But I know that dieting is the critical key to lose weight. If I continue to eat the same way with the same bad habits and poor choices in food, no amount of tennis, gym and walking is going to help.

So, I’m sticking to my strict, lean meal prep. And to be honest, the scale is reflecting that discipline. Which is a huge relief.

Because if I’ve been angry, frustrated and moody over my stomach rumbling, it better be for something.

But onto more positive news, another really healthy routine is going to the gym with my girlfriend regularly now. It’s been an amazing story to see my girlfriend, who was never an athlete really push herself in the gym and on the tennis courts. Her enthusiasm and infectious need to move motivates me to always push myself as well.

Whilst I keep telling her that her coordination is actually quite good, she doesn’t believe me. So sweetheart, if you are reading this, this is in writing …. your coordination and athleticism are actually there, they’re just a bit rusty and we just need to dig a tiny bit more to get it out of you!

But my primary method to losing weight, is tennis.

Back then, I thought if I played tennis, I would lean myself down to a worthy go-karting weight. It actually worked. I got to my leanest at 74kgs.

And now, when I think about it …. I actually lost interest in racing (due to exorbitant costs) and became a lot more engaged in tennis.

Tennis, even at a recreational level, is still incredibly demanding. I will probably create a separate post on tennis in an IMPACT series, but it tests me like no other sports does.

It also exposes my weak mental side. The side that will relapse because its thinking too much about hot chips. The side that is a little bit lazy and complains when the going gets tough.

When I’m gassed from serving 4x double faults in a row and need to put that failure of a game aside and focus on breaking my opponent’s serve …. the stress is almost insurmountable. I need to believe in my own game; trust my tennis brain will make good IQ plays and not fear the next service game.

It exposes me in the worst way possible, destroying my confidence and yet somehow also restoring it at the same time.

To be honest, the mental aspect of tennis is really the most intriguing part to me. For me, performing at my highest level (which isn’t that good), in spite of the burning heat, the stress of the game and the sheer gladiatorial element is what is going to strengthen my resolve, my mental acumen and my ability to think under immense pressure.

It’s the ultimate way of syncing my physical body to my mental will and desire.

I hope all this development will equate to me being able to lose even more weight and become ever more trim.

Until the next update ….

~Damocles.

2026 Fitness Journey

~ Ninjafang ~ Leave a comment
Roger Federer …. forever my inspiration for sport fashion and elegant athleticism

It’s time to get serious about fitness.

I have all the tools at my disposal to get fit. There is the gym membership that I rarely use, the sports equipment, the weather and even the supportive partner.

I’m currently a very unfit 87kgs.

The goal is to slim all the way down to 74kgs, when I was at my peak before the era of 30 began.

I’ve tried this before, last year, where I wrote almost weekly trackers, but it didn’t work.

This time though, there is a big difference. My partner is coming along for the fitness journey. This is a game-changer, because I spend so much time with her, that I often forget to monitor my calorie intake.

But we’ve established a different weekly schedule now. She is just as determined as I am to lose weight, and while that is enough for her, for me, it’s about maintaining my athleticism.

I know that I have athletic ability. I feel like I move smoother than a lot of other people, especially when I compare myself to my friends. But at my age, I can see that is starting to slip. I can’t rely on my glory days, my innate abilities anymore.

It’s gotten rusty. I can feel my body not behaving smoothly when I vault things or execute safety rolls.

And this has thrown me for a panic.

A panic that can only be resolved with …. more sports.

I am already obsessed with baseball. The goal is to try-out for my local team in March and really see if all my effort into practising on my own has paid off. I’m excited as traditionally I have only ever committed to solo sports in the past.

This will be my first real foray into a team setting and I’m curious to see if I can make new friends and enjoy something bigger than myself.

I have everything I need to start. A helmet, a bat, a glove and even cleats. It’s time to see this equipment be put to good use.

The next sport I need to dust off, is tennis.

Tennis, in my opinion, is one of the greatest sports to get fit. It strengthens your arm muscles, tones you down with its cardio, and it forces you to be mentally fit to play at a high level through very stressful situations.

It’s technically demanding, requiring you to be accurate yet softly-strong. You can’t just smash a tennis ball and expect it to land in the court. The court is simultaneously too big and too small. Too big to cover with your tired legs and yet too small when you want to ace a winner down the line.

The entire concept behind tennis, hitting it with enough power to get it past your opponent, whilst respecting the line is just amazing. You really need to master top-spin to properly play the game and any self-respecting tennis addict can see straight away when a person just picked up a racquet, versus a person who plays frequently. Add on top of that, the burning heat of the sun, your desperate need to defend your opponent’s shots and you will never find a game more demanding, more taxing and just downright gladiatorial in nature.

It is brilliant and I fell in love with it during Covid. I love playing against the wall and I’ve recently picked up my racquet, got it restrung and am now realising just how poor my conditioning is, after taking nearly a year’s break.

If baseball is going to be a twice a week exercise, one for practice days, the other for competition, tennis will be also twice a week. Once against the wall, and another against a friend.

Tennis will improve my hand-eye coordination, overall cardio and lean me down in the best of ways.

But there is still one final sport that I’m going to share with my partner.

Golf.

Low-impact, technically demanding and very frustrating.

Luckily for me, there is a tiny bit of cross-over between baseball and golf. Even tennis assists me somewhat. Because thanks to those other two sports, I’m very used to gathering power from my hips.

Golf all comes down to the swing.

Well … not exactly. You need to make sure the club face is aimed the right way, accurate gauge distances, ensure you can clear obstacles, read the wind and understand the limits of your abilities.

So no, it’s not exactly simple nor easy. It’s actually very difficult to consistently hit a tiny ball a long way.

Especially when the ball sometimes has a mind of it’s own.

But I’m slowly improving. I’m learning to relax, to not be so anxious when I square up to hit the ball. I’m actually starting to appreciate how therapeutic golf is. It lets you dissociate from the world for a solid 3 hours. There is nothing to do, except focus on hitting the ball towards the hole, appreciate the nice scenery around you and actually just switch off for a bit.

What’s more, you’re walking the entire way, gathering around 8000 steps per 9 holes and it’s as low-impact an exercise can get.

Yes, it’s expensive, yes, it’s definitely harder than it looks, but that is the beauty of golf. It’s all about you. Can you sink a ball into a hole, in as few hits as possible.

I’ve fallen in love with a golf a bit. Especially when I know from personal experience, how fun golf can be and what a beautiful distraction it is. When my dad was going through a rough time, I remember explicitly taking him out for 9 holes and it definitely helped him.

For 3 hours, he didn’t think about any of his problems. For 3 hours, his sole focus was to get the ball in the hole.

That is the gift of golf that I find incredibly meaningful. Yes it’s not going to help me lose weight faster (only dieting can) but golf is fun, it gets me out of the house and I’m genuinely excited when I get to go out on the course.

It also helps that my partner shares this new obsession/hobby with me and we can have a chill date that actually helps us move together. So yes, this sport has been nothing but generous with its ability to get closer to the people I love.

So those are the three sports that I plan on investing in for this year. And when the weather turns bad, it’s time to hit the gym and keep those gains going.

As a quite aside, if I had to name the athletes that inspired me to chase these sports …. it would be Shohei Ohtani of the LA Dodgers for Baseball, Roger Federer in 2017 for Tennis and Bryson DeChambeau for Golf, as well Tiger Woods of course.

But the point here is … if I track my calories right, and exercise as much as I do ….

Hopefully by May 2026, I can report happier news. I really hope there will be a 7 in front of my weight.

Until then, expect fortnightly progress reports.

~ Damocles.

Disciplinary Action – Week 19 (3/11/25)

~ Ninjafang ~ Leave a comment

Weight: 86kgs

I’m writing this to the steady drumbeat of the Black Rebel Motorcycle Club iconic Beat the Devil’s Tattoo.

And it’s fuelling my internal desire to move again.

But the most important change to my desire to move, is the fact that I have genuine reasons to improve in the gym.

I’ve realised that the idea of a target when going to the gym is very important. A vague goal like “losing weight” isn’t good enough for me.

There needs to be a purpose behind every exercise I do.

Baseball has now become that purpose.

I’m going to try out for my local baseball team in March for the winter season.

To ensure that I make a good first impression, it’s time to start exercising at the gym to specifically target the exercises that make me a better baseball player.

Sprinting is now key, as well as building up my conditioning so that I don’t gas out by the midpoint of the game. After all, if I’m going to play in the outfield, I need to be agile, with a focus on running hard and fast and moving between the bases.

I’m now also focusing my efforts of getting stronger muscles, so that I can hit the ball harder, as well as focusing on my hips, to ensure that I’m getting good rotational movement. My arms need to be flexible as well, so that when I throw the ball long distances, it moves quickly and accurately.

There are so many things that I am excited to go to the gym about now.

It was like this when I was obsessed with tennis a few years ago. There is something about a bat/racquet and ball sport that fires me up. I love the repetitive nature of it all, how, no matter what you do, every single hit is a tiny bit different to the thousands you’ve done before.

But you keep trying, you keep making tiny adjustments so that one day, it’ll feel natural and smooth and you can control the outcome.

My weekly batting practice has now got me to a level where I know when I hit something, I can predict what it is going to do. I know how I need to arc my arms, when to follow-through and when to toss the bat and run like hell to first.

Even before I got into tennis, I was desperate to start racing professionally. This desire to trim down on all levels so that I was lighter in the car, resulted in one of the most dramatic weight losses I’ve ever undergone.

This is what I need to figure out to lose weight. I needed a specific target, a sole goal that everything leads into.

I’m still the same weight I was so many weeks ago, but this need to be lean and keen for my baseball try-outs is lighting the right kind of obsessive fire in me to succeed.

I’m ready to hit the gym and just give it my all so that I can be the best player and asset to the team I can be.

The last thing I want to hear is that I’ve let the other guys down because I refused to stay in shape.

Let’s play ball.

~ Damocles.

32 Years Around the Sun

~ Ninjafang ~ Leave a comment
Ghost of Tsushima

It’s not my birthday today, not by a long shot.

That happened a while ago. But just because my birthday was a few weeks ago, it doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t take a moment to stop and reflect.

I’ve made 32 orbits around the Sun now. What am I appreciating now that I didn’t earlier?

Time takes everybody out, it’s undefeated.

Looking back when I was a lot younger, I’ve come to realise how silly I was for chasing thrills.

I used to wish my entire life was an action movie. I purposedly did things to make that a reality. Breaking and entering abandoned factories and homes, trying to enlist in the military … I was always chasing that next high, whether it’s trying out skateboarding, mountain-biking or even just dramatising my blog to make my personal struggles seem grander.

The folly of youth. A deep underappreciation for time.

Of course, a lot of circumstances back then made me think that I was doing OK for myself. I had a job, but it wasn’t challenging me and draining my energy. I thought I didn’t need much money or had to save a lot, because my focus was all on chasing the next action thrill. I spent my paychecks trying to be different … more interesting than the person next to me.

Now, having settled down in a proper job, where I work 9-5pm, where time feels shorter because of all the things I need to do, I appreciate the small moments a lot more.

I like having a night in. I like learning new things instead of chasing new highs. I don’t feel that urge to go out just because I think life is passing me by.

My life is controlled by me. I own what I do, what I need to prioritise and how I manage my time. Just because an event passed me by, doesn’t mean I’m missing out.

I appreciate the moment when everything goes quiet. I can laser focus in on one small task and get it done.

It’s why I’m obsessed with baseball now. It’s a sport that never used to excite me, but over the year, I’ve become a baseball addict. I can’t stop obsessing over the sport. I’m itching to play.

Almost every single week, you’ll see footage of me online, smashing balls off a tee.

Of course, I’m inspired by Shohei Ohtani. He’s arguably the greatest player in Major League Baseball history. The two-way player who is easily in the top 4 for both pitching and hitting. Only a few weeks ago, I witnessed his absolutely ridiculous performance, where he struck out 10 batters and then proceeded to smash 3 home runs in one game.

This is supposed to be a team sport. Ohtani single-handedly destroyed a MLB team on his own.

There was no way I wasn’t going to be inspired by a genuine unicorn. I missed seeing Jordan’s dominance. I never got to truly appreciate Tiger’s artistry. I ignored Brady’s achievements. I hated Hamilton’s effortless winning streaks.

But Ohtani was the guy who took me by the shoulders and told me to watch a sport I had no interest in.

Now, I’m all in.

I’m even considering joining my local baseball team …. an odd choice, especially when you look back at my sporting interests which have all been solo sports. Tennis, skateboarding, fencing, go-karting … not once have I been interested in joining a team sport.

Yet, here I am, strongly thinking about trying out properly for my local team.

So much has changed about me, when I think about it.

Nowadays, I’m a lot more conscious about how I spend my time, my money and my energy. It’s no doubt, a side-effect of getting older. I can’t do the typical 3am finishes and get up, raring to go at 8am anymore. Now, I can sense I’m eager for good sleep, focused on getting healthier and spending more time with my partner.

There’s also the mental maturity that is starting to creep in. I feel a bit more confident in knowing who I am and taking on feedback. But it’s a razor’s edge when it comes to sensitivity. When I was younger, I was so much more brash, cocky and arrogant. I could bulldoze my way through with superior confidence.

But now, I’m very aware of the other side effect of getting old. You start to get more sensitive, more aware that you’re mortal and that means you start to become more stubborn and resistant to change. You don’t realise it of course, until someone tells you that you’re starting to get offended by everything.

I do constant checks now. I don’t believe in not progressing, not changing and giving up. I’m still hyper-alert to how my actions and words can affect people and myself. I’m still scanning myself and trying to be as self-aware of my flaws, my strengths and my actions.

Because the last thing I want to be, is some curmudgeon who gripes about how much the world is changing, when in reality, he didn’t put in the work to keep up with the changes.

It’s why I’m glad I am able to keep a firm grasp on who I am, what I believe in and the values I promote while acknowledging that yes, it may be a bit old-fashioned, but I’m still open to new ideas, new ideals and new ways of respecting others.

I hope that I can keep this up. This ability to be a bit old-school, but adaptable. Because I think some things never die. Some values remain true no matter the age, the generation or the school of thinking. Things like a good polo shirt with chinos, the crack of a baseball bat slapping leather out to 120metres,

And I’ll hold onto those, but I won’t ever judge others for challenging them.

I think at my age, I’m doing OK. I could be healthier, slimmer, happier and more social, but I’m content, which is a very nice feeling to own.

I like knowing that I have things to work on.

And I hope that this continues … because being productive, being pleased about the small improvements in my life … makes me content.

~ Damocles.

Disciplinary Action – Week 7 (11/8/25)

~ Ninjafang ~ Leave a comment

Weight: 85kgs

This is going to be a berating post but it’s also a reflective one.

Obviously, I’m not pleased that a month on, from my start time, nothing has changed much.

But change isn’t something that happens overnight. I also need to stop trying to place huge expectations on myself. I kept thinking that by this week, I would have lost at least 1 kilogram. That I was going to get a dopamine hit that somehow justified all the personal struggles and sacrifices I’ve made.

That was a mistake. Thinking like that isn’t really that helpful nor contributing to personal growth.

So instead, I’m going to look at some positives this past month.

I’ve been moving more than I’ve ever have in the past 2 years.

I’ve been more consistent with hitting the gym at least 3x a week. I would ideally prefer it to be 5, but we’ll get there. Whilst at the moment, I’m clocking in around the 1 hour mark, I think I want to slowly increase it to 1.5 hours and throw in more exercises. I feel like I need to do more to make up for the lack of movement I do for 7 hours in the office.

It would also be a good idea, if I threw in more walking at the office. Maybe it doesn’t hurt to go for a quick walk around the office, a few laps, or explore the nearby park. I could also use the hill nearby ….

Food for thought.

I’ve slowly started to cut down my excessive eating. There is no denying that I love food, but I feel like I’m slowly starting to shrink my stomach. I don’t feel the need to eat as much and I’m cutting the bad sugars ever so slowly out. I’m also prioritising more protein in my meals, discarding carbs and making meals that make me feel like I’m eating cleaner.

What has helped me so much along this journey though, is my girlfriend. She’s been a stern voice, yet at the same time, a boost of encouragement. She will shake her head when I try to suggest something sugary and go on walks with me to get our steps count up on our dates and be that annoying, but much needed reminder to prioritise the gym.

It’s exactly what I need to build healthier habits.

Now, we almost always check the dietary information on the back of foods. If something has too much sugar or saturated fats in it, we put it away or limit the amount we consume a day.

We both suffer from body dysmorphia at the moment. We’re self-conscious about our bodies and weight, but we’re holding each other accountable. We are starting to walk more, eat less and just be conscious about our food.

It’s so different to my previous attempt at dieting, because this time, I know that I have someone with me, helping me along and monitoring my efforts. It’s a lot easier to stay on track, when your partner scolds you for eating too many M&Ms.

What is kind of encouraging is that my weight has actually moved after 7 weeks of hustling. I’ve managed to shed a single, solitary kilogram and that has been such a morale booster.

It means that all of this sacrifice, monitoring and pain has been for something.

Now to keep the number dropping ….

~ Damocles.

Disciplinary Action – Week 3 (21/7/25)

~ Ninjafang ~ Leave a comment

Weight: 86kgs

It is now officially week 3 of this weight loss and nothing has changed.

Naturally I have fallen into a pit of despair and am now eating poorly again ….

This what I would have done 2 months ago. But instead I’m getting angrier.

Why the hell isn’t my weight going down?

This is a post of frustration more than anything else. What am I doing wrong?

I understand that losing your weight is hard in your 30s, but it shouldn’t be this difficult.

Where is the dip to show that something is working?

I have been hitting the gym for 4 days in a row. I am eating less.

But nothing has moved.

It’s time to shake things up. I don’t mean changing drastically anything I am doing, but I need to start collating more data on what isn’t working for me.

I need to start calorie counting. I also need to track my sleep, which I suspect 6 hours is simply not enough.

I like to think that my level of intensity and exercise is enough, but perhaps it’s also time to start using my standing desk more frequently, instead of just after lunch.

So, let’s work backwards, and start analysing what the hell I am doing and what I can do to improve things.

I typically get up at 0800 to prepare for work. The only issue with this is, my typical bed-time is 1.30am.

I need to fix this and get a solid 7 hours of sleep. Sleep is one of the most crucial factors in losing weight and I’m not taking it seriously at all.

From 0800 to 1200, I only eat one protein bar, which does a decent job at filling my stomach. I don’t drink coffee, tea or anything except a few chugs of water.

I think consuming more water will also help with my dieting. Coffee apparently would help also, however, I dislike the taste and am generally not keen on getting hooked on caffeine.

At midday, like clockwork, I typically prepare lunch. I think one of the biggest mistakes I’ve made in the past, is loading too much rice or pasta in my lunches. They are unnecessary carbs that don’t do me any good. For the past two weeks, I’ve been trialling peri-peri chicken wraps, with plenty of greens and they make me feel noticeably lighter.

However, I feel like consuming two of these wraps is too much food, especially because my office work is so sedentary. I need to cut it down to one wrap and consider eating another protein bar at around 2.30pm.

After those wraps, I will eat 4x Hi-Chews, which is my small fix of sugar, before I try and cold turkey it, to 1830, where-upon I normally try to hit the gym for at least 1 hour, before heading home and eating my dinner at 2000.

Then from 2000 to 0100, I try not to eat anything or drink anything. Its nothing but water till I go to bed.

One of the extra things I’ve been trying to add in, is using my standing desk more after lunch. I feel like it helps not to sit down after lunch and properly digest.

Looking at my daily routine as a whole, it’s obvious what I need to fix now. But I still want to collate the data.

The 4 keys to weight loss has always been …. calorie deficit, good sleep, maximising protein and regular exercise.

I can sense that I’m not working on all four of those things. I’m not reducing my calorie intake in relation to the amount of exercise I do. I think one hour in the gym isn’t going to cut it. I feel like I need to do more.

This means I need to use my standing desk at least 3x a day, for a minimum of 3 hours in a day. A good number to aim for in terms of steps, is 7000 to 10,000. I need to stick to a strict regime of activating my standing desk more frequently and thus forcing me to actually take small steps to get to that daily step count.

The next biggest thing is reducing the number of wraps I eat and swapping it out for another protein bar. I think my morning protein bar at around 1030am is good. Lunch at 1200 and then another bar at 1500. I shall take photos of all my food and add them to a calorie tracker.

This also helps remind me to stand after I consume any food and regulate this habit in.

I also desperately need to fix my sleep. I need to aim for 0030 or 0100 latest. Even if its just crawling into bed and relaxing there, I think it’s better than sitting at my computer, playing games or typing away.

Reduce my screen time, thus create better sleep.

The final thing, maximising protein is the step I am least eager to take. I’m not very big into gym culture and can’t see myself huffing down protein powder.

That said, I need to do something to create some actual change in my weight, otherwise it’ll have been a month with no progress.

And I can’t think of anything more depressing than that.

Still, I’ve created this game plan. Eat, stand, move.

Let’s hope next’s week DA is more positive.

~Damocles.