I'm feeling reasonably pleased with myself for getting myself over to the gym this evening, and for convincing the Missus to accompany me for her first visit to the treadmill of the year. I've managed to establish a bit of a routine already but I must say for some reason I wasn't looking forward to tonight's session - at least, that is, in the two hours immediately prior to our trip. For reasons unknown I felt weak to the point of suspecting I wasn't going to be able to manage my routine 40 minutes. In the event I kept going, but consciously eased up compared to my previous visit.
Now I'm wondering how much of my sense of weakness was a reaction to feeling that I'd overdone it the last time I was there, out of a determination to get back to posting the kind of results I was getting in my best sessions last year. These were the ones immediately prior to our Hajj. I've not got close to covering the same amount of ground since.
I reckon it would do me a lot of good to ease up on the counting of numbers and just enjoy getting some kind of exercise, regardless of its presumed effectiveness, for the next couple of months. Whether my highly defective character lets me do so is another question.