A Windshield Day

So - that'll be Nando's being as good as their word then - no fat, no guilt frozen yoghurt - blood this morning - 4.7. Thank you and we'll have some more of that!

You ever heard that song - The Bug?
"Sometimes you're the windshield,
Sometimes you're the bug.
Sometimes it all comes together baby,
Sometimes you're just a fool in love.
Sometime you're the Louisville Slugger,
Sometimes you're the ball,
Sometimes it all comes together baby,
Sometimes you're gonna lose it all..."

Good song - I'm net-reliably informed - written by Mark Knopfler of Dire Straits.
Seems appropriate today. There are plenty of days when you do something like this that feel like "Bug Days" - when everything you try leaves you squished and panting and feeling like a smear on the windshield of life.

Then...just occasionally...there are days like today. Windshield days.

Woke up this morning with about 9 fourteenths of what could be a truly kickass short story already played out in my brain. It's one that needs Thinking About to fill in the other 5 fourteenths, but still, feels positive and creative and deep.

Decided in advance - last night - that I'd be buggered if I went to the ass-splitting Hell of spin class this morning. But also determined that I'd do the equivalent or more in home biking before work. And so, that's what I did - biked slightly more than the calories in my breakfast clean away...before actually having breakfast. Plugged the iPod into my ears, and rediscovered the pleasure of cycling to music (the one big downfall of Spin for me...y'know, beyond the godawful pain and the godevenawfuller hour at which they choose to put it on on the days I've been) is the wretched choice of music. Songs like "What Doesn't Kill You Makes You Stronger (Kelly Clarkson - and yes, of course I had to look that up!), Born This Way (Lady Gaga) and the like begin to sound as though they were chosen specifically to take the piss as you pedal your ass into shredded oblivion. But with music of your choice, plugged straight into your brain, singing your fool head off, you can make it genuinely fun.

Did a thing I should never have done this morning, and approached the Nazi Scales. I knew this was a bad idea, but I approached with dances and sacrificial offerings, and they smiled a little half-smile on me. Nothing spectacular, just a kind of nod that said "Ah. You're back, are you? Good, good..." I got off and put them away again politely while their good humour held.

At lunchtime, I happened to be out in the pissing-down rain, and remembered the pleasure of last night's Nando's meal, so popped there for another protein-fest and a little frozen yoghurt.

This evening, did another stint on the bike, and raced the fabric of time, to do 50 minutes, burning 10 calories per minute. Managed to not only maintain that, but gained 5 minutes over the course of the ride, developing cardio-level heart rates at several points.

Tasty dinner tonight - goulash (again, heavy on the protein, with a dollop of half-fat creme fraiche for flavour).

And then, out the almost-blue, the second and third paying customers for my business - www.jefferson-franklin.co.uk (for all your wordsmithing and editing needs!) confirmed almost simultaneously that they want to give me money.

Like the song says, sometimes you're the bug. But sometimes, you slap all the problems of your day right in the face and let them know that actually, you exist after all. So here's to windshields!