from the Endomorph :
the replay …
If this were a journal I think it would have to read something like this:
May 14th 2013
Traffic, strikes and a country in turmoil .
Chaos has followed me around the entire week , robbing me of my spare time, trapping me in a situation that I cannot change as
an individual, leaving me frustrated and angry!
I am not alone, I share this frustration with thousands of others.
Again in an already failing economy our entire public transportation system has been sabotaged by nationwide strikes.
Thousands of people are left stranded and battle to find their way to work and back home again.
The roads are flooded with cars and jammed from one end to the other.
A 30 min journey is taking 2 hours to complete, sometimes more.
Our governments sits back, takes little notice of the man trying to put food on his table, why should they, when they have been put there
to govern without cause.
It’s known that they are escorted during their travels with brigades of armoured cars flashing blue lights so that all must stand aside and let them pass.
Not so easy for the rest of us.
South-Africa is infected with corruption, a disease spreading so deep into her core that I doubt if she will ever be cured again.
South-Africa is dying.
Even the beautiful die. A beautiful country has collapsed, left alone to die, with no one to care for her in the last years of her life.
Most of us don’t know how, we’re not qualified.
The ones who are qualified steal her last riches while she is down and use her weakness against her. It’s the perfect time,
the world is too busy to care. Too many countries are ill with the same infection. And unfortunately for us South-Africa does not belong to the debutantes of Europe.
She is left, no one noticing as she comes crashing down the flight of stairs. The pretty girls from the right side of the tracks steal the show, no one will help her up, eventually it will be too late.
People who no longer live here make documentaries of what a miracle the transition was. How amazing it was to see a country change it’s values. They ran from the transition though, they do not suffer with the rest of us, there is no miracle in corruption.
There is no democracy if the only change is changing the victim.
There is no democracy if the initial victim has never been healed.
There is no democracy if hate has just changed colour.
The miracle most of us wanted was just a magic trick, flawlessly executed, fooling us into believing we will become strong together, when the plan was to separate us even more.
The smart ones saw it coming and left quickly, before the world closed their doors to us.
The rest of us are sitting in traffic, wondering when the price of fuel will increase again, and how our president will spend foreign aid on his family home instead of the desperately hungry and homeless.
Then again we won’t know, because after the great “miracle” the #SECRECY ACT of South Africa prevents us talking about it.
Our leaders have convinced the world that they are now looking after their own, that we are singing and dancing hand in hand in the street, the rest is a secret to everyone.
My friend from Zimbabwe tells me their country had caught the same kind of flu many years ago for which there was no cure until the day of her death.
Make a documentary about that miss Theron and Bishop Tutu.
Tell the world how we have come together as a nation, together in our equal neglect, our equal desperation, our equal devastation.
Tell them from your home in Miami and your lounge on the hill.
Another magic trick! Forget to interview the man and woman living in an informal settlement, still living there since the “miracle”,
still without running water, still without a toilet , still without a school, a doctor or bed.
Show me the miracle of this while we are standing in a road lined with homes made from garbage and scrap, and I will show you
a magic trick too…
but this is not a journal, this is a blog about fitness, so whats my point.
Point is … fuckers robbed me of my gym time and it was virtually impossible to get to do something that ads meaning to my life because of the ripple effect caused by my current every day situation.
fast forward …
I get that all the “super-hero’s” say fitness is the mentality to create time to accommodate a dedicated lifestyle.
I failed terribly at this, I could barley manage to accommodate brushing my teeth never mind my fitness routine.
They never tell you what to do when that happens in the “body for life” and “super abs in 60 second” books.
I was going strong, and then I just couldn’t get to gym.
Did I gain a pound. Perhaps I did.
Did I suffer the wrath of the gym gods, n0 I didn’t !
Things happen to normal people.
The blood, sweat and tears we spend just getting through the average day is enough to show us that we are not quitters!
We are already dedicated to the impossible, SURVIVAL!
So I have to go to gym on a Sunday to catch up, same as working late to catch up.
So I lost a day or two and ate inconsistently, but those were the circumstances, and that was the best I managed to do.
The one thing I have learned from excepting a glitch here and there is that it is easier to get back into balance as soon as things even out a bit.
When the ocean is rough you can’t fish.
When life is rough you can’t always get to gym.
Try and restore the balance (***note to self) first by calming yourself down,
this will have better results when your working out anyway!
However fess up and grow a pair, don’t just walk away forever, a few days or a week is not forever!
As “Dori” says in #Finding Nemo “JUST KEEP SWIMMING!”
There is a truth to gym, and life and dieting that we should never forget,
“FALL DOWN 7 TIMES, GET UP 8!! “,
Sorry it’s not the secret to getting abs in 60 seconds that I just dedicated to myself more than any one else here, but perhaps I have talked myself into getting my ass back on the treadmill today and getting back to beating that unsightly bulge that makes flying coach even more terrible than …. well flying coach !
“Just keep swimming dudes!”