It's been tough this week.
Alison has been away, and I've been doing daddy daycare at home and trying to manage everything at work but run out of work as fast as I can so I can get back so Callum is not on his own at home.
I've had all the dog walking to do and all the cooking to do and all of that and that circumstance where you really appreciate how much your partner actually does and how much you are supported.
The work starts to roll in because it's the start of September, and all of a sudden, I feel that itch that when it gets to October, I'm going to have one of those Campbell days where I completely bust and break (haven't had that for years) but at least I can identify it this far out.
I went to train with Callum on Wednesday night with Gregor, my PT, and Gregor had set up an arm session, part of which was tricep dips on a bench.
We had to do as many triceps dips as possible in 45 seconds (times four after a minute's rest with other exercises).
I wouldn't like anyone reading this to think that I'm a gym guy or that I look like a gym guy. I mostly look like strawberry jelly with my clothes off!
The thing is, I couldn't finish the triceps dips each of the four times, so I did as many as I could, but then I stopped.
Gregor doesn't say anything because he understands that you're at your limit and being at your limit is better than not trying at all, but also knowing when to stop when you're at your limit is perhaps more important.
It's possible I could have pushed through all of those sets and hurt myself, but there is no point in that; much better to stop so you've got a chance to go again another day.
Blog Post Number - 3562
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