No more hippy shit I promise Chapter 11

So blog did you miss me?
Did you sulk like a child in the corner while I got in with things?
Seems I only need you when things are going badly eh?

Despite some breathing difficulties on Thursday night, which was something I attributed to an adverse reaction to a hayfever tablet (go on me mush grasp that straw), everything had been moving along nicely.
Reaching the end of my first week of steroids, the Pyridostigmine was also working it's magic and keeping the symptoms at bay, although at times it feels like I am surfing in front of a tidal wave.

It's a sunny Sunday morning and it would be difficult to imagine a more promising look to the day.
After a really enjoyable day yesterday with Olly April and Mike (watching Ben Howard and Munford and Sons). We returned at around 1am this morning I was feeling so optimistic about things, having spent a day in hot sunshine (MG says avoid hot temperatures), with no chance of a kip (MG says take regular rest), massive queues for toilets (MG says not only will the bottom fall out of your world, a possible side effect of the treatment can leave you with the world falling out of your bottom).

So in summary I had drunk beer danced about and failed to shit myself wooohoo.....up yours MG!

As if this was not enough, a long fast walk from the venue to the station last night had felt so good.
It was enough to raise a light sweat and as close to training as I have been in 2 weeks, so I was excitedly planning my gentle return to Kettlebells with an early morning easy session today.

Dragging out one (no point in going straight back to doubles) 16kg (no point in trying 24kg yet) I started some relaxed single handed swings to warm up.
The boulder on my chest feeling I have experienced previously returned almost immediately making any further effort impossible and leaving me as plain depressed as I have felt since this SHIT started.

I was promised that I could expect these miserable feelings as a side effect of steroids, so it is difficult to know how much of this is chemical and how much a consequence of having my training reduced to brisk f*cking walking!!
I am trying hard to see this in relative terms..... the "could be worse at least I've got legs"
 or "at least it's not MS or Muscular Dys-trophy" but frankly it's not working.

So lets apply that relative view from the other end shall we?

If you are a lazy fat sofa accoutrement, bemoaning the size of your butt and gut...... get up and get on with it you have no idea how lucky you are to have the option.


There that's better, I should write this stuff down.......