Got to the gym in the early afternoon for the first time in a couple of months. Struggled. Started to feel more tired than usual after 25 minutes and by 35 minutes was seriously considering stopping. I assume I had badly misjudged my pace in the initial stages when things didn't feel so bad and had gone far too quickly in the excitement, I suppose, of being back on the machine. I'm further guessing that I set the resistance I was peddling against too high - although nowhere near the highest possible.
For the final 25 minutes it was a matter of slowing down so I didn't feel sweatily like throwing up and somehow keeping peddling, which I managed to do to get the full hour in. I was mildly pleased with myself for completing what I'd intended but also mildly annoyed at being so out of condition and misjudging my efforts so badly. I suppose the fact that I've recently managed some longish walks without difficulty lulled me into a false sense of security.
Oddly enough, psychologically it helped that Noi and I had been out for an excellent dinner the previous evening. This was a delayed birthday treat - and treat it was at a very nice place called Royz et Vous out at Telok Ayer Street, opposite the Chinese temple there. I mention the name as the place was very quiet for a Saturday night, I suppose business not having picked up since the recent closure, and they deserve plentiful custom given the quality of food and service provided. Anyway, thoughts of just how good the mushroom soup and roast duck had been spurred me on, convincing me that I would have the energy to finish my stint on the machine.
Am now feeling tired, but quite nicely so, which is a good sign, I suppose. In fact, we've just come back from doing some weekend shopping - which is an indication that I did have something left in the old batteries despite what my body was telling me around quarter past two.
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