What a difference a couple hours makes
Thursday was the final day of the very hard 2-week cycle at my main job, though to be sure the second week wasn’t nearly as bad as the first. I have to commend the district office for modifying things to make the workload bearable. As for the next cycle, a change in the workflow that I found out about on Thursday morning means that it will be easier than average, which is something less than I had been anticipating. Welcome news.
After finishing up at the usual time on Thursday I made a late afternoon visit to the gym. Being in an unusually energetic frame of mind I decided to have a hard session. And I did. I started out with neutral grip pull-ups, getting a total of 32, as follows: 5 × 4, 4 × 3. Next I tried to do some dips, but stopped after a couple because they just didn’t feel right. It was a sensation that is hard to describe but was quite evident at the time. I though of trying bench presses instead, but decided against that because I always like to do any benching first in the session. It’s not the sort of exercise in which one wants to risk any sudden muscle weakness. I did Hammer Strength shoulder presses, 4 × 8 ×.100/100. To finish the session I did T-bar rows, 5 ×.6 × 115.
On Friday, my day off, I had to make a quick trip to Westchester County to take care of some business. To get there I took the Long Island Expressway –> Cross Island Parkway –> Throgs Neck Bridge –> I-95. I left around 10 in the morning and was at my destination, just past New Rochelle, in about 1:10. Not bad for a trip of about 60 miles. The thing is, had I left a couple of hours earlier, thereby hitting rush hour traffic, it would have taken well over two hours. Ugh. As it was, the only ugh I had was for the (obscene) tolls on the bridge. After just a short while at my destination I had an equally easy return trip, though I made a couple of stops along the way so there were no time comparisons. The highlight of the drive (the (obscene) bridge tolls were of course the lowlight) was seeing most of the water under the bridge, the beginning of Long Island Sound, frozen over. There was just some open water, probably the result of shipping traffic. Such extensive ice cover is very rare. And Little Neck Bay was completely frozen over.
At 6:30 I went to hot yoga, at the same Bayport studio where I went on Saturday. This time it was a normal session, not a brutal advanced session like the one we had stumbled into on Saturday. Even so, it was somewhat more intense than the sessions at the other studio. But the instructor, one of the few men I’ve had as an instructor, was very good. His pacing was smoother than most and he gave detailed instructions on how to execute each pose. I was pleased with my performance.