Name something that you thought was true, or that you thought you’ve been doing correctly, that turns out to be actually false. I could name a few:
Serum after moisturiser (should be the other way around)
That the moon landing never actually happened (Jokesssss. And who cares? Dicking around in space is pointless).
Eating bacon regularly is okay.
That I look better with hair
That the film Anora deserved all its Oscars (Nope. Demi was robbed. Haven’t moved on).
Facetiousness aside, I was made aware by my (new) doctor that I had my cardio regimen all wrong. For one thing, I don’t really have a regimen. Before Uber, because I refused to drive, I walked everywhere. Before 10,000 fucking steps, I was doing more. It’s so easy to put together a profile of yourself in your head and believe that you’re doing just fine, that you have all the bases covered, until you get empirical evidence that proves otherwise.
‘You should be able to reach your target heart rate and hold it there for 30 minutes or better, sounds so factual (it is) and easy (it’s not) that it staggers me how it’s escaped my attention; how I’ve never come across it, or perhaps overlooked it, something so fundamental.
Who fucking cares if you’ve put on your moisturiser first before your serum?
No wonder all my workout clothes never smell.
Today, it took 12 min to get to 140 (had the treadmill on a level 12 incline), and I only held it for 5 agonising minutes. I’m not Superman. I’m just a middle-aged man trying to get things right. I’m going to get to 30 minutes when I get to it, and it won’t be tomorrow or next week.
I was so drenched in sweat that I took an Uber because I was too embrassed to take the bus.