Alone, with your thoughts, in a place where you’d think you’d have company …

(American Gods Season 1, Episode 1)

Fickle …

is the enemy of my progress.

I was thinking about that word and how apt it was, to describe how the modern mind works nowadays. You flit from one idea to the other, like an indecisive butterfly, never really committing to taking all the nectar from one idea, one philosophy, one … anything.

Right now, I’m supposed to be asleep. It’s 0241 in the AM. I got work at 0900 but once I’m bitten by the writing bug, it won’t let me sleep.

So it’s Red Bull in the morning, and maybe 4-5 hours of sleep.

Writing is the one thing that is never fickle. It’s an obsession, a force of habit that stems from me desperately needing to get something off my chest and clear my mind-space for more efficiency.

Writing is the exhaust of my engine. It lets out all the bad thoughts, all the nasty gas, and cleanse the mind of clutter and build-up emotions.

It hasn’t failed me yet.

But where was I? Oh yeah … fickle.

It’s a good word to approach how I have behaved towards this challenge, post – TET. I can tell my heart isn’t quite in it as much anymore. But that’s OK. Habits … whether your heart is there or not, is you programming yourself to do it.

I take showers in the morning. I brush my teeth. I change a certain way. I do lots of things that construe habits.

What is an hour of exercise at 1900? Another habit I just have to stick to. But getting there, where it’s automatic is another story altogether.

Fickle.

It makes you sound weak.

Fickle.

It makes you sound indecisive.

Fickle … it makes me worried. Can I commit?

If I can’t commit to this simple challenge, what else will I drop at the slightest provocation?

Girlfriends? Education? Health?

I’m afraid of what I have been doing to myself.

In this day and age, it’s so easy to blame other things. To paint yourself a victim.

But I’m not built that way. I believe you have a choice. An active decision making process that makes you the sole person to blame. You can’t go around blaming other people and other things, when in reality, it was your series of choices and decisions that lead you up to this point.

But what are you afraid of Damocles? I hear you ask.

I’m afraid of technology. I’m afraid of being stuck in a shitty job. I’m afraid that my Tofu Events business will never take off.

Because I am fickle.

Technology … has that insidious feeling of rotting you away. I can feel it a bit like a cancer inside of me. Endless crap on Facebook makes you a lesser person. I see endless shit on that site. Constant news articles decrying humanity and society. Mundane and inane shit that people love to tag each other in. Stupid memes that serve to cheapen topics of importance.

They say it brings people closer to together, that more of the world is accessible. I say to that, yes, but you were so preoccupied about with whether you could or couldn’t  and never stopped to think about whether you should.

One reason I stay isolated more than the average person is to keep my creativity as fierce as possible. Being the odd one out may have its temporary disadvantages, but more importantly, it has its permanent advantages – Criss Jami, Killosophy.

I keep seeing it everywhere … the more connected you are, the more time you spend on the web, it leads to the numbing of the brain. You only need to look at the inane stupidity of voters, toilet rolls and a virus that isn’t even that virulent.

When you are in an echo chamber, and your voice suck, but you keep hearing it every time you log in, eventually you fool yourself into thinking its beautiful.

And that is what Facebook and similar things is like. An auditorium with all the stuff you like, constant playback of the things you hold dear, a product of an unfeeling algorithm.

How can one grow, when surrounded by only the things you want to see, hear, feel and experience?

The art of conversation, intelligence and discussion is lost on that site. People used to go to cafes and discuss topics of great importance and the future.

Now, they laugh at the present times and don’t think twice beyond their next meal that they will Instagram.

I sound like one of those cranky old people.

I probably am. But that’s what happens when you think about the future too much. You become too serious. Too afraid. Too conscious of your decisions. It makes you want to act. But you are frozen with indecision. Because anything you’ll do, will affect the future. And the future is full of consequences.

Beyond being an hyper individualist, I suppose I like to think of myself as a futurist. People would get depressed if they consider the future for a second.

My depression fuels the nihilism within, but the desire to make something of myself snuffs that nihilistic fire out all the time.

Social media … has proven to me, time and time again, that it’s a corruption of “social” skills. You can’t have social skills if you just meme, like, tag and comment on things all the time. You’re just emulating what social skills are. If you have a conversation in reality, you can’t just like what someone says. You have to put thought into it.

And putting thought into something is hard for fickle people. Even harder when your attention span has been shortened thanks to a shorthand in social skills.

Don’t be an addict to your phones. Since when was this tiny rectangle become such a time-consuming, attention seeking automatic habit for me?

I feel like those people who chain smoke cigarettes and keep reaching for one.

But instead of dragging nicotine through my lungs, I’m trying to feed my mind with a notification.

Hideous.

To be an addict, is to be life’s ultimate parasite.

Your only nutrient is what you crave.

Addiction should always be loathed.

A shitty job fear is obvious and entirely linked to my work ethic regarding Tofu Events. I keep playing games instead of working hard. I keep putting it off.

Why?

Because I’m tired already. I’m just one guy. The work-load has only intensified since I’ve actually come up with a plan for it. If I had no shitty job, it would be alright. I could dedicate every waking moment to it (but would I actually? In a Utopia; yes, realistically fuck no).

But I got one. It’s called being a Trainee Store Leader at Miniso Australia. And now, I’m burdened with the responsibility of looking after it.

And knowing me, I won’t be satisfied if I do the job half-arsed.

But it’s shitty, I hear you say, why the fuck do you care Damocles? They pay you like crap and you can just do bare minimum. 

Because everything I do, whether it’s given to me, forced on me, or whatever else on me, I want to do to the best of my abilities. I hate regrets more than I fear failure. I don’t care if something fails. As long as I know I tried my hardest to make it work.

In 5 months, they can close down the store I run, but at least I can say, it’s not my damn fault that they did. All the elements in my control, I controlled to the maximum of my ability and with an annoying OCD mindset and in the end, it was just the world saying Fuck You to me.

But I spat back at it, with everything I had.

I didn’t take it kneeling, and I sure as shit didn’t let the opportunity slip past me, without me trying to make my mark on it.

I hate inaction as much as I despise regret the emotion.

Because they’re linked and tied at the hip. They’re like Siamese twins together. You do nothing about something … and boom, there comes regret.

So even though the job is crap, I got my hands tied in how to improve it, give it my all I shall.

But just at 90%. I got to learn how to leave work at work. I can’t bring it home and let it get me all down.

Therefore interfering with my work for Tofu Events.

God, there is just so much to do for Tofu. It’s a massive weight on my shoulders. I need to email so much. I need to fix my website a lot more. I got so much more advertising to do.

There are so many times, when I should be exercising, but I put it off to do Tofu work, only to get fickle-minded about it, and sad and angry and bothered by the sheer work-load, that I end up trying to de-stress and end up playing games.

It’s a vicious cycle.

Thankfully, I have not put on any more weight though.

I seem stuck at 75kg. So damn close to my target of 69kg.

It may sound stupid now, but I just realised that the only way to properly de-stress myself is to get to work.

I just HAVE to commit myself to my course of action and get shit done for Tofu. Otherwise I will never be able to move forward.

How ironic. Such a simple solution. But it never really clicked for me.

It’s so true what they say about obvious answers.

But like anything obvious and true, it’s never easy and non-sacrificial.

The truth always takes something out of you.

In my case, it just removed a tiny bit of fickleness.

In which I am very grateful indeed.

The point about me listing those fears above, is that at any given time, I had a choice to do something about them. I could switch off my phone. I could delete Facebook. I could change my feed … so that it’s less stupid. So that the things I see on there are more interesting, more varied, less cancerous.

These are the type of decisions everyone has the power to make. It’s why every so often, I head to my friends list and delete the ones I don’t talk to anymore.

I could have chosen to quit Miniso and make my life aimless and broke again, while I scrabble desperately around to make Tofu Events work. But instead I chose to do 2 jobs at the same time. To sacrifice a bit of mental health, well-being and freedom after 6pm to do even more work.

All these choices were mine.

And mine alone. I can complain in hindsight, I can break down over the work, but at the end of the day, there is no one to blame but myself.

Life is simpler, when you realise that you alone control your destiny. That there isn’t some omnipotent being out there controlling your destiny.

It’s just you.

Y/N?

Yes or No. You either said yes or you said no.

And I chose yes to all those things above, to all the things I fear, all the things I have to sacrifice, because at the end, if I am not pushing myself all the time, how can I possibly be better at anything? I can’t just be playing games all day.

There’s no money or satisfaction in that.

But there is, in one day quitting Miniso, knowing that Tofu is on its way, on its feet and is actually a successful start-up.

Just as there is similar satisfaction in cleansing my mind of the crap you see so often on social media. A detox away from it all. To stop having small anxieties about who messaged me, whether I got a like, or reaching for my phone every 5 minutes to assure that anxiety.

The way forward is clearer now.

I’m going to get my life sorted again. Back to running between two roundabouts, back to skipping so much I almost sprain my legs.

Back to being creative at writing, exorcising my demons, and mental clutter.

Back to the future?

Oh God. That was horrible. Sorry.

But it’s true. If I want to make my future better, I better get to work on it now.

Just wished it wasn’t so hard and difficult.

~Damocles.

P.S. It’s currently 0326 … I suspect my shift at Miniso tomorrow will not be pleasant.

I miss the actual act of placing a vinyl on a record player or inserting a CD into a player.

That textile action of choosing your album and letting it play out, without the ADD sensation of rapidly clicking onto another song, is something I miss.

It’s an actual decision. You are stuck with that album, the good songs, the tunes you want to skip and the music in-between.

Once you are done enjoying the entire album, you take it out carefully, and put it aside and select another one.

I’m not sure why I’m delving into nostalgia, but I can probably pinpoint the reason why. Yet for some weird reason I’m hesitant to reveal.

I may be a lot of things, but a liar on this blog, isn’t one of them.

The reason why is because the theme of slack for this rundown. I miss the determined Damocles before TET.

Hence the moment TET ended, and the Gold Coast holiday started, I could sense my motivation slip for this challenge.

Things went too smooth. I ate too much, I didn’t exercise, and I really let my guard down.

And now trying to get back into the groove is proving difficult.

Especially with the fact that I snacked a bit too much in these past 2 weeks, and started drinking Coke more.

Curse the damn leftovers from TET.

Temptation is staring at me and I keep looking back and caving in.

However today, I figured that the more honest I am about my problems and if I refuse the gaze of snacking and soft drinks, I will get back into the groove.

It’s time to reclaim that healthier diet. More water, less sweets, less carbohydrates and watching the amount I eat.

I realised, that discipline isn’t something to be feared. It’s something to aspire to, to mould into something unique for yourself.

The person that is able to maintain high levels of discipline and integrate unique routines and activities that better themselves will always triumphs over the rigours of life.

I also have to acknowledge the fact that, I am also an addict.

I am hooked on the thrill of chaos.

When everything goes wrong, that is when I feel most engaged with life.

Of course, I don’t mean that in an all encompassing sense. It’s more, when things that I can see a solution to, problems that I can control go wrong simultaneously.

I love trying to come up with answers to issues that might overwhelm another.

Now, that I’ve discovered the ability to work on things simultaneously in my mind, I want to keep exercising that muscle.

I believe in my own efficiency. My own skills to address problems. I feel safe in knowing that my experience and knowledge can truly come up with creative and smart innovations for a lot of problems.

A key example of this is during the TET festival, when I split my mind into three, to solve three unique problems that the decoration, second stage and activities were all facing, at once.

However, all this self-faith, always come across a huge stop marker when things I can’t control occur. Weather, insanely stubborn people, authority figures and huge bureaucratic systems are just some of the things that come to mind.

I’m a hyper individualist.

A strange term that I have never heard before, until my friend, Samuel told me, that this philosophy, moral stance and ideology perfectly described me.

And upon reading further, it does fit me.

I value independence and self-reliance and oppose external interference on my own self-interests like the government. I think anarchy is the preferred state that society should operate in and the description of my “mind palace” resembles that of an bohemian bachelor.

All these things point to Individualism as my preferred ideology for life.

So how does that relate back to the Before 30 Challenge?

Well, my individualist nature is what made the B30 challenge even a possibility. I didn’t invite anyone else to partake in this challenge. Nor did I bother trying to join a gym.

I just went out and did it.

My motivation to excel in this self appointed crusade of mine, to lose weight, only increased as the chaos and stress of TET began, (a clear indication of anarchy as my preferred state) and then subsided as I was slowly assimilated back into normal functioning society.

I announced my addiction because, to be honest, if you don’t say things aloud and see it appear, even in the digital world, it’s not real.

I live in that panicked state, whereas everyone else is losing their mind. So in other to gain traction again, I need to create another panicked state.

In other words, it’s time for me to involve Tofu Events and create an arena of anarchy where my energy and will can best be spent tackling all the problems my business has.

So here is the list of things I am going to do, to make it real.

1. 1 hour of daily exercise
2. 1 hour of daily Tofu work
3. 1 hour of daily reading
4. 1 type of writing a week
5. 1 rundown a week
6. 1/2 hour of GT Sport Simulator
7. Budget my fortnightly income better

It’s time to make Tofu Events a proper business.

It’s time to get better at driving.

It’s time to get closer to my weight goal

It’s time to read more and learn.

It’s time to write and keep practising this skill.

It’s time to start ticking things off the wish-list.

I’ve never really struggled with identity issues, due to individualism.

I am the sum of all that has happened to me, and all that I’ve learnt.

I don’t belong to a, b, c, e, f, g, h or any of the letters or numbers that make up = d.

I am Damocles.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Here to see this B30 challenge to the end and then find another one straight after that.

~Damocles

It’s been a while ….

I’ve skipped 3 weeks of exercise and writing due to the imminent arrival of the TET festival. But I never stopped reading. So I can say with a bit of pride, I managed to finish that Napoleon book.

Napoleon the Great by Andrew Roberts. It was a wild ride and had a very sad ending. Napoleon died in exile on St Helena, an island some considered the most remote place in the world at the time.

I can’t quite imagine what that felt like … a man of his incredible talent, power and energy, left to rot in ignominy until his death.

It also reminded me of my potential plan, to go into self-imposed exile, and made me wonder whether such a move was truly healthy for me. Would I go insane? Could I live without command?

It’s a difficult question. Even today, I felt bereft of many things, going back into the ordinary life of a retail worker, after the high of commanding a huge event. Things don’t feel the same, taste as interesting or fuel the creative energy as much.

Mundane things like restocking a store just seems … wasteful and lethargic.

But now that it’s over, I can finally take a breather and relax a bit.

Just a full warning … this is going to be a very long read. There is a lot to break down and assess.

From an overall perspective, the festival was a failure. Not enough people attended. All the stake-holders did not make money. We all lost.

From a personal viewpoint, I, too, consider it a failure. The energy was not there. The vibes were off and too many points of the festival looked empty. I expended a huge amount of energy, time and willpower and it was all for naught.

Objectively though, taken in context, the festival was a strange pyrrhic victory. Every other type of festival that occurred on the same weekend, and of its type, failed on an even larger scale. Chinatown, on the Sunday, flopped disastrously despite the fine weather. A beer festival had just 10 people, despite occurring in the heart of the city.

We managed to get at least a couple of thousand through the door and everyone somewhat recovered at least a little bit.

We all knew it was doomed to fail. But at least we didn’t fail as hard as the others. A testament to the quality of our event and brand awareness. That we even got that many people through the door, is an intriguing statement, when so many others failed.

But enough about the outcome of the festival. I can discuss that in another blog.

How did you feel about the whole experience?

Wasted. On a positive note, my weight loss dropped to 75kg at one point. But currently I am now at a more realistic 77kg. Still … not bad, considering I was 79 for the past 3 weeks.

The Before 30 Challenge is still on. I broke my skipping rope, in Week 10 and finally got a new one, that I can use  and promises to be more durable than any other rope I’ve used thus far.

So beginning soon, I will get back into the routine again. An interesting fact I learned about myself during the festival, was that I didn’t need as much food as I thought. If I could just harness my entire body and mind, I could be a lot more efficient with the food I did eat and operate well on a lower calorie intake.

Being busy, helps me stay in good condition and lose weight.

I need to feel like I am operating at 100% a lot throughout the year, not just once for TET.

Another crucial element I discovered was that I worked out the ability to truly multi-task on a level I have never really found myself doing before.

The best analogy to describe this feeling would be your typical guitar strings.

5 lines, running parallel, separate and all sounding different to one another. But to make a cohesive song, you have to use all of them.

My mind felt like the hands that manipulate that guitar. One string was marketing, another was the TET Theatre, stall holders represented another and the analogy goes on.

At one point, I was actively using all the strings, and running through them all.

They say that you should never half-ass multiple things, always whole-ass one thing.

I think, as a leader, you can’t afford to do that unfortunately. You have to whole-ass multiple things.

And while mistakes and issues were made, overall, the result wasn’t terrible. Yes, I could have helped the TET Theatre with its preparation more. I could have tweaked the budget better and have more control over the volunteer food equipment.

But at the end of the day, I’m one person.

Shit.

I sound like I am making excuses for those errors. I may be one person, but the entire team relies on me.

I think next year, I just need to make more time. I shouldn’t have done a 10 day working week and then immediately jump into the festival.

To be honest, I haven’t even had a proper break yet. Not a single day to recover since January the 20th. I have worked every day including today, Tuesday, the 4th of February, without pause.

What a depressing thought.

And yet, slightly proud too.

Even now, my mind is still trying to tick the boxes off for the festival.

There are still so many things that never came to fruition, and never truly shone according to my vision.

I guess I still need to work on it.

I wonder whether I will ever truly be happy with anything, until it becomes exactly the way how I envision things. But is that even possible?

Perhaps it is, if I have a clearer vision.

And I know exactly how to achieve it.

Perhaps then, things might play a bit better.

Another recent thing that I have learnt about leadership, beyond clarity of vision, effectiveness of execution and the power of charisma, is whether I am actually any good at being a leader.

I’ve done a lot of leadership roles in the past, but I’ve never actually wondered why people trusted me, why people would even follow me or ask for advice from me.

I never really wondered why people would even respect me in my capacity as a leader.

Nor did I ever really enquire as to what made me think I could be one.

Napoleon, has always believed he was born to be one. I never once thought that.

I may have the ability, but I attribute that to my stubborn and persistent moral code and ethics, that have been born from countless stories of the SAS, historical fiction and the development of my own moral ideas and philosophy and rules that I deem important to me.

Rules like intervening, rather than watching or simply gritting your teeth and getting on with it, despite all the risks and consequences are probably what pushed me into leadership positions, despite my own hatred of authority figures.

Nothing good has ever come out of inaction. It’s always better to do something than deliberate and procrastinate over a hard choice.

It’s why I’m writing again. I could slack off, and forget the Before 30 Challenge, but no, it’s back to the grind again.

I only managed 30 minutes today, and so now, I got to climb back up to 60 minutes again, and try to undo some of the damage such a long break has done to my body and stamina.

It probably doesn’t help I just came back from a holiday in the Gold Coast, where I ate like a King, to compensate for the negative calories intake during the TET festival.

But I’m skipping again and I’m still at 77kgs. So I got to keep going.

I’ve also nearly finished another book, The History of the SAS by Chris Ryan and admittedly it still gets me.

By it, I mean the mythos of the Special Air Service. To this day, they still serve as one of the most important reasons why I aspire to be better. To be fitter, leaner, faster and stronger.

Even though an Army career is out of the question for me, I would love to one day meet a Blade and just have a genuine conversation about their career and what make them …  them.

Those men and women, are the real life super-humans, with their incredible will-power and abilities.

And I think daily, about how much I would love to join their hallowed ranks. It’s the same obsession that drives me about racing, how much I would sacrifice to be a Formula 1 driver.

Discipline, Diligence, Determination and Daring.

All of those are tenets that any successful person must have.

I have to improve on all of them.

Week 13 … It’s back on again. Back to the daily training and grind.

Who Dares Win.

~Damocles

Frustration.

There was a strange cushiness to the start of the decade that I despised. Week 9 wasn’t a struggle. It wasn’t even hard. It was boring.

It was an entire week dedicated to dieting. I only did 1 day completed of exercise.

The air prevented me from properly allowing myself to complete exercise.

And I even lazily took a day off on Saturday.

What the hell happened?

That’s easy to answer, Damocles.

You

Got

Soft.

Too many days off has caused this rot inside of you.

And its not even completely your fault. If it was entirely your fault, then perhaps you would feel better, but it isn’t. Its the ever fluctuating weather.

And the fact that yesterday you tried, but ended up injuring your left leg again.

The amount of pain I’ve felt in this damn leg, make me want to chop it off and replace it with a mechanical one, cos its been preventing me from fully exploiting my new-found energy and health.

I’ve been forced to walk, hobble and limp my running sessions and do push-ups and sit-ups and stretches.

And I can’t properly skip either.

Stupid leg.

I miss my exercise. I miss the sweat. The energy and the endorphins.

I miss being able to have 1 hour completely alone for myself.

But this close to the TET festival, I can’t catch a break. Its full-tilt until the finish line. I’m too busy helping others …. (read more here)

I’m annoyed with myself. Progress is slowing and almost halted.

That is not how I want things to go. This week, I got to find replacement exercises to do indoors, otherwise I’ll go insane with frustration and my lack of discipline.

Research Damocles. Start doing some. All good work starts with research, briefing yourself and preparing your steps for the future. Then all you have to do is put one foot forward.

Week 9. Cushy, Boring, Shit and Disappointing.

You have only yourself to blame and so pick yourself up again and get back at it, bushfire smoke or not.

Get inventive and creative and maybe focus on something else than just cardio.

You got a brain Damocles. Use it.

~Damocles.

Yeah Rocky, I did it. Because you inspired me to do it. I managed to hit my weight goal from Week 5 to Week 8. All thanks to you, your music and your story.

79kgs.

I managed to do it. I’m under 80 kgs.

Which means the past 8 weeks, I’ve managed a net loss of 5kgs.

Not gonna lie, this has been the best news I’ve heard and received all week, despite the bushfire calamity and the increasing stress of the TET festival.

I’m on the way to being a healthier, leaner and probably faster racer.

9kgs more to remove, and I don’t think these ones will be very easy.

But still, I’m pleased with the progress. If only Week 9 will be good, but with the bushfires have placed a halt on my exercise. The air quality is just too bad to go out and exercise.

I guess I have to start seriously considering whether I want to join a gym.

Depressing as it is, if the weather and conditions continue to worsen, I can’t afford to exercise outside and get my Vitamin D anymore. Which infuriates me. Because I love working out outside and letting the natural elements help me burn more calories.

So I guess it’s either I start wearing a mask, or I join a gym.

Maybe I’ll start wearing a mask. Because screw it. If these conditions get worse over time, I want my body to be ready for the upcoming apocalypse. I want it to be water-efficient, able to deal with smog and intense heat.

It’ll be rough, but with the mask it might help enhance my respiratory system.

After all, there is a very real chance that the Great Fire that London experienced in 1666 might happen to all three major cities along the east coast of Australia.

And maybe the anarchy that I have, for so long, feared and secretly desired, might happen for a month, before the military steps in and restore order.

Terrifying thought isn’t it?

However back to the topic at hand, Week 8 was about moderation. I was carefully watching everything I ate. I stuck to smaller meals, drank more water and generally chastised myself a lot more for over-eating at certain meals.

I’m a lot more conscious of my body’s needs and its ability to function with nutrients and food. When I feel “hungry”, I drink water. When it’s time to eat, I limit the carbohydrates and eat things that are easier to covert to energy and digest.

I’ve notice a lot of things this week, with my hips/waist being slimmer and thus pants feeling a bit looser and less tight. If I suck my stomach in, it’s a lot more flattering and straight. There is less of a curve around the belly, and my arm muscles feel “tighter” in a good way.

If I can keep this mental discipline of not over-eating, no doubt I can less the exercise and continue to lose weight.

Another thing I’ve discovered is my bad habit of incorrectly using “its” and “it’s,” in these blogs of mine. I’m currently striving to correct that, so please feel free to mention the mistakes.

Another strange question that came to me, via constructive feedback was whether I really sound like how I write.

The real Damocles, when he speaks, is more or less, an oddly humorous jerk, with a penchant for English slang and humour, that is evened out by a very dark, serious and sometimes cruel streak, in which I have known to lose friends and alienated strangers over.

I can go too far one way, with my humour and teasing, to the point of actually offending someone, and sometimes I can switch on the charm, with all the ease of a sociopath.

But I don’t sound like how I write. If I did …. people would probably hire me as their ghost speech writer more.

As it is, I’ve only ever done that once.

What does come across though, is my brutal honesty and desire to be efficient. I curse a lot more when I talk, using the usual colourful vernacular like: fuck, shit, fuckwit, spoon, bastard, tosser and bugger. I sometimes even throw in an Artemis Fowl reference by saying someone is a headless stink-worm. 

And if I am feeling really up for it, I might even describe someone as a simpering, insipid whore, whose every intake of breath, is a waste of oxygen, best served fuelling a fire.

Or you, stupid, bastard. Your entire gene pool deserves an early grave and should not breed beyond you. You’re an incredible waste of space, resources, time and I hope you’re infertile, because I don’t want to encounter more of your brand of unique stupidity and imbecility.

But those are just thoughts I have for some customers in my retail job.

I don’t actually say those things aloud. Even though I very much wish so.

But yes, I curse a lot more, use simpler words, forgo greetings like “morning, hello, top of the morning to ye, etc” and other such nonsense, because if you see me, then … you already acknowledge me and as such, wasting a word to greet me, is superfluous like saying “ATM machine.”

I’m also a lot less talkative, but if duty absolutely calls for it, I can discuss things at length and tell stories in ways that can charm you.

I know all of this sounds haughty, arrogant and mightily self-serving, but confidence has always been a strength of mine and a lot of it comes from largely positive interactions I’ve had with many different types of people.

It’s hard not to be an arrogant asshole, when a lot of the world seems to tolerate and enjoy you, despite all the signs stating they should be acting in the contrary.

However, at the end of the day, I largely value silence. I don’t open my mouth if I don’t have to. I’ve gone days where my mouth has remained shut, without talking, and I’ve had to really unclench my jaw to get it working again.

After all, this is why I write. I sound, read, listen and think better when I do. Putting pen to paper is a habit, that has helped me stay sane, stay confident and ultimately atop of all the stressful elements in my life.

You don’t write this quickly and smoothly, without years of reflective writing and being attuned to the inner voice in your head.

I always encourage people to write. It’s a good habit. It’s a disk clean-up for your mind.

I’ve rambled a lot more for this week’s Rundown. But I’m just enjoying the glow of being lighter and fitter.

However, tomorrow, it’s back to the routine and the grind.

No rest for the wicked.

Apparently I must have been one of the worst scum in history, cos I don’t think I’ve taken a break in over 6 months or longer.

But as they use to say …

nil volentibus arduum … nothing is arduous for the willing.

~Damocles

P.S. You can read about my ramble on suicide here.

“I’d been sitting at the bar for three hours, or five years depending on the way you looked at things.”

Stagnation.

That’s the theme of Week 7.

I only covered 24.91kms.

A rather drastic 6km short of the past week.

But somehow I lost a lot of my motivation this week. Things just weren’t clicking. I moved slower, I reacted slower. I felt like giving up more.

Things just felt … harder.

I guess the heat has finally gotten to me. I skip 2 days in a row, and this is what happens. My mental well is exhausted of its water and suddenly everything seems harder.

I guess I should give a quick discussion about that well.

Halfway through one of my sets, I thought about what it was that was driving me.

I knew why. I wanted to become faster. I wanted to lose weight so I could drive quicker and look better. I wanted the physique of a professional driver.

But somehow that answer didn’t satisfy me.

And that literally sapped my strength. My push-ups felt weaker and my mental fortitude slipped.

Which is where we come to my query …

How much of our mental health is band-aided?

How really strong are we mentally?

How much of what we do is just a distraction from the inner pain? What actually cures that pain?

Have most of my workouts been a band-aid for a deeper issue? I’ve thrown myself into this challenge, thinking deeply about how shallow my actual goal is. To look good by 30.

But what am I really thinking about?

Am I making up for lost time, being ashamed about my body? Am I doing this because society tells me that I don’t look good? That I’m not strong? That I lack something?

Its a terrifying thought, to be confronted with what you have been doing, the routine you’ve established is merely a temporary fix for what’s really wrong.

Because you end up looking at everything you do differently. That reckless spending on toys you clearly don’t need, but oddly want.

The music you listen to. Holidays. Drinking. Friends. Lovers. The procrastination. The lack of will … all because you are too afraid of taking an honest look at yourself.

So what is wrong with me? What has been an band-aid and what has been genuine motivation?

I don’t think I can answer that here.

A talk with someone might though.

Its been a tough week. The stress is only mounting with the arrival of TET becoming imminent in my mind. Yet I still have to devote an hour to exercise. At least 15 minutes of reading. An hour and half to my business.

I got to maintain a discipline. A rigidity to the world’s chaos.

Without it, I’d be even in a worse state than I am now.

I got to stop this yo-yo effect though. I can’t just keep re-arming myself one week and then run dry on a second. That’s just poor discipline. Poor will.

I need to keep up the tempo. To dedicate myself to this structure without fail, pause or complaints.

Where my mind may falter, my will must not.

Consistency is key.

I got to watch my diet. Eating less should be an easier task, considering I have been very conscious about how much I eat nowadays.

This coming week, I shall be measuring myself for my weight again. Week 8 will be the All-Seeing Eye. It shall reveal whether my inconsistent regime has paid off, whether that extra 15 minutes has mattered or whether I have failed.

I’m nervous again.

If it turned out I gained weight ….

Its time to light a fire again and burn.

Burn, Burn and feel the Burn again.

~Damocles

“You see this guy here? That’s the toughest opponent you’re ever going to have to face. I believe that’s true in the ring, and I think that’s true in life. Now show me something.”

If Week 5 was the worst week, in terms of commitment, Week 6 has proven to be the absolute toughest week I have ever done.

Thus it is a new type of worse.

The heat.

God, the heat.

I really suffered on Wednesday. The incredible heat seared every part of my body and I found myself gasping and struggling for air, with every pore crying out for some kind of cool-down.

I have never had to take a proper break. But I did. And I wimped out at 40 minutes.

Every minute of that Wednesday workout was agony. I wanted to give up so many times. The female announcer on my ipod nano would say “5 minutes” and honestly, it felt like I did 15 minutes of working out.

Even after I took a super cold shower, I stepped out and just felt heat radiate from every pore, as my body did its best to cool down. It was like some bizarre engine, trying to bleed out excess heat.

I guess that is the price I pay for training outside. But I am too attached to my free “outside humiliation” gym now. It hasn’t cost me a single cent, and I just use equipment that’s already available to me.

I told myself last week, that I would re-arm and re-focus and clear my evil eye.

Just wasn’t ready for that heat. Still, this week has been the most consistent, with 6 days of working out, and me covering 29.9km.

After writing this, I might just go out and run, just to hit 30km.

Skipping, Running, Walking, Push-Ups and Sit-Ups.

That’s the routine every day and admittedly, I feel like I got a lot more in the tank now.

I’m sprinting harder and faster, my skipping is flowing more and I can go on one foot or swing the rope side to side.

The intensity can be ramped up a bit more if I didn’t have such a weird busted left leg. Maybe I really did pull a muscle and its just not healing quickly enough for me.

But that’s too bad. I just got to fight through the pain and deal with it. I’m not stopping and I’m committing myself to this self-punishing asylum.

Maybe Week 8, I’ll start pushing it to 1 hour and 15 minutes.

I also have to admit, that there was another reason why I went ahead and trained in the heat, despite the searing sensation I felt in my lungs later that day ….

It was to emulate both the famous desert training sequence in Creed II and the fact that I made the bold promise to be a volunteer firefighter next year (probably March).

If I can’t stand 40 degree heat …. how can I become a firefighter?

I have to get used to the shortness of breath, the insane toll, heat takes on you and the sweatiness of it all.

I have to say though, the workout the day after, in normal heat, felt so much better and I managed to push even harder.

This is what I’ve written so far, A Blocked Lyricism.

Its meant to be a strange song about Writer’s Block.

Its not very good, but it is an attempt.

I’ll keep at it. Nothing gets better without practice.

A lot of things have been weighing down my mind recently. Festival work, Boyfriend commitments, Workout commitment, Miniso work …. the whole challenge of making myself write twice a week ….

I can sense it ageing me. A lot of people comment on how tired I look.

But that’s the grind. I mean, I would like to hope that at some point, it’ll be normal for me to work out twice a day. Once in the morning, once in the afternoon.

I just got to keep going at it.

One Step at a Time. One Punch at a Time. One Round at a Time.

There’s a mantra I ended up adopting in that searing heat, when I was gasping for air and any breeze. Where everything felt like it was on fire and I couldn’t think straight.

You broken?

No sir.

Then get up.

I would whisper that call and response over and over.

Its late now (12:36am) and I should sleep. But I still got another 100 metres to run.

Better get to it.

Might as well skip for a bit too. Clear my head.

Get evil again.

~Damocles.