Peeling at the crux...

During the week, the singular challenge of any given day is maintaining intensity. I need to crush it at the firm and crush it in the gym, and I also need to keep up with "The Usual" (read: wedding, house, yard, etc.). If The Wee One reads this, she'll spit out her coffee and exclaim "you don't do sh*t to help with the wedding, the house, or the yard!" With almost insignificant exceptions, she's absolutely right.

I can never seem to hold it all together. To use a climbing metaphor, I routinely peel at the crux. If I crush it in the gym, it probably means I slept less and worked not enough. Worse, if I crush it at the firm, it means I slept less, didn't exercise, and didn't pay attention to The Usual. A lot of the time, I feel like That Guy -- killing himself to survive the week so he can revel in the weekend.

Oh, but the weekends are GOOD. I eat whatever I want. I drink whatever I want. The Wee One and I play in the mountains -- and they are incredible mountains -- and we laugh. We hang with our friends -- and they are incredible friends -- and we laugh. The sun shines brighter and the batteries recharge. It's all worth it.

So, for now, that's the deal. The week earns the weekend. I dream of being successful enough that it's all weekend, all the time. Until then, though, I'll keep trying to send the crux.

Last night's therapy:
Run two-ish miles at an easy pace (i.e., lap around the park and to Smith's for some milk). My feet are feeling better and my legs are loosening up. Things are (slowly) moving in the right direction.

*Credit goes to Six for coining the term "The Usual."