Back in May I started taking ice-skating lessons. Jcube, a newly opened mall near my home, has an Olympic-sized ice-skating rink – my daughter took one look at it and asked to try it out. Tried it out we did and while my skating technique was doubtable, I didn’t fall on my first two hours in the rink.
We signed up for lessons, which were held on Saturday mornings, pretty much for the next few months. I used to have gym sessions on Sunday mornings, not to mention the Friday evenings. My body and soul soon started to tell me in no uncertain terms that this was damn tiring – I basically had no break, no nights where I could sleep through without having to wake up to an alarm clock.
Inconveniences aside, this soon began to take a toll on my muscle mass. I simply wasn’t getting enough rest. Now, I admit again that I don’t sleep early enough even when I get the chance. I love my Friday and Saturday nights as any human being in a first world country would, except I get no pizza. I just like my late night TV and slaying monsters in Diablo 3. I generally don’t stay up past midnight on weekdays because of work, but weekends, come on, I have a right to my relatively new HD TV and my blu-ray player (I’m watching Lost, constantly wondering how come Jack is so well-built for a doctor and how come Hurley never seems to lose any weight despite all that running, and my can he run fast).
I contemplated changing my gym routine for a while – the thought of going to gym on weekdays three times a week after work wasn’t exactly welcome, but frankly not being able to sleep late without guilt and wake up at leisure at least once per weekend, is worse. Also, I actually kinda enjoy having my littlest girl jump on me in the morning demanding cereal and blueberries – something that only happens on Sunday mornings since I have to rush off to the rink on Saturday mornings.
And so I did it, I now go to gym Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays instead of Tue/Fri/Sun. The things we do for weekends.