The deceptions I use to work out three days a week

It's like back in my days when I used to smoke. I'd hide out in the back yard, usually on the side of the house.

A veteran smoker always know what way the wind is blowing.

A power move was going to the canal that runs behind my house, smoking a cigarette - An American Spirit of course because I'm a lifelong NPR listener - and then spraying myself down with Axe body spray and Febreeze and then always having a fresh shirt to put on.  It's like during my drinking days when I'd always have a pack of chewing gum in case I was ever pulled over.

I'd always have to come up with an excuse to leave the house to take a smoke break or take a swig of vodka. I'd always have a go-to excuse like "I have to turn the water off" or "I need to check the back gate, think I left it open."

Working out however is a bit more complicated: it takes time which I find myself having less and less of everyday.

I've tried going super early in the morning but the downside is that I have to get up ridiculously early as we are on site at 6:00 AM with a 35 minute drive if I want to call myself a responsible driver so that means I need to be at the gym at 4:20 in the morning which gives me just enough time to finish my workout at 5:20, take a quick shower, literally jump into my jumpsuit and power walk to my car and pray I don't get stuck behind an overloaded 2002 Chevy 1500 unlicensed jardinero truco. 

To be at the gym at 4:20 I need to leave the house at 4:10 which means that if I get up at 4:00 AM I have ten minutes to quickly take a dump, shave, jump into my gym clothes, tuck my daughter back in (I always fond her huddled without her blanket on) and then quietly leave the house.

I need to be up so god-damned early that for 7 hours of sleep I need to be in bed by 9 PM. The problem is that I routinely wake up after 4 hours of sleep and I'm up from an hour to an hour and a half.

I listen to these podcasters who talk about how they hit the gym early in the morning, read all these books and I ask myself how much sleep they're possibly getting.

On the weekends when I am not obligated to be up at 5:00 AM I will often go to bed at my regular time. During the night I'll wake up but there's enough time that I can go back to sleep, several times if necessary. This isn't an option during the week.

How nice it must be to have that DEC2 genetic mutation which allows you to function on four to six hours of sleep which I can't do.

I'd have to go to bed at 7 or 8 PM if I wanted to get a full night of rest to make my morning gym schedule work. Remember that there is no such thing as catching up on sleep. 

Afternoon Workouts

The best thing I found for my schedule was going to the gym right after work.

This has the disadvantage of find oneself bumping into other people and waiting for the dumbbells and the guy sleeping on the incline bench press.

The advantage is that I'm able to blow off some steam right after work, do some cardio, isometric and strength exercises which through some magic make me feel amazing afterwards to such a degree that it's a night and day difference.

Seeing these advantages for several weeks I'd stop off at home, take a dump, get my athletic clothes on, maybe drink a cup of tea, say hello to my daughter and wife and then head to the gym.

The disadvantage is that stopping at home gave me the excuse not to go. Last week I didn't go once and I felt like shit because of it. I'm not going to the gym to address my body dysmorphia with my bony pterodactyl-like shoulder blades which jut out as if I was an extra in Schindler's List. I go to the gym due to the aforementioned massive positive effects I get to my baseline mood that I have only seen with mind altering drugs.

The positive affect I thought would have been obvious enough that my mother who lives with us might see the importance of my going to the gym and would be able to take our daughter to Jiu-Jitsu three to four times a week. This apparently is a bridge too far. My mother weasels out of this important but low-stress, low-impact responsibility by using a passive aggressive strategy where she'll ask "So, should I take Shaniqua to Jiu-Jitsu... Or.... Ummm... Are you going take her?" I think there was one time where I actually asserted myself, said no and went for a two mile run and a 300 yard swim in the canal. I felt great afterwards but I angered my wife and somehow burdened my mother.

I should mention before I sound like a complete asshole that my day begins at 5:00 AM and ends at 9:00 PM if my daughter is behaving and I can get her in bed. 

My mother's day consists of... I have no idea. I think she drops her off in the morning to daycare, picks her up and... That's it. In the evenings she'll practice some letter writing with my daughter and that's about it 

I haven't seen the amount of chores or responsibilities decrease since my mother came to live with us in December. She moved down here to "help out" while my wife undergoes her treatment for her illness. 

Helping out would mean being available and reliable from the time my daughter gets home from school until the time I get back from the gym. This is a two hour window three to four (max) times a week. But she can't figure out how to do that. She's so emotionally unstable that she can't do what I see numerous other abuelas (usually) or abuelos figure out. 

If my mother wants to "help out" she doesn't need to contribute to the mortgage, buy groceries, or spend any money at all. I just need her to occasionally be available for several hours a couple of times a week to dress my daughter in her gi, drive her to a half hour Jiu-Jitsu lesson where she can sit and do whatever she wants and then drive her back. 

But I haven't had this uncomfortable conversation with her. I don't feel as though I should have to. Other cultures and nationalities just seem to figure this out: Hey, that guy that leaves five days a week at an ungodly hour to go do a job that pays for everything? Maybe do whatever you can to lighten his load a little so he can find three to four hours a week to go to the gym.

Apparently I'm an asshole and this is too much to ask. Its a bridge a too far. God forbid my mother has any responsibilities because she's retired and younger people should just pay for the boomers to live the good life because they had to go to work as if the rest of us didn't and don't continue to have to. At least they get social security which will be insolvent by the time I'm 65. 

So to avoid this uncomfortable conversation with my mother, I'll practice what I do best: Avoidance.

I'll just go straight from work to the gym. 

Retired From Life

 "Wake up Logan." My wife tells me 

I'm laying on the floor resting.

I got home "early" by which I mean on time as I work in an industry which is known for it's overtime.

"Does she really need to go to Jiu-Jitsu today?"

"IF YOU DON'T WANT TO TAKE HER JUST TELL ME!" she says in a raised voice.

Perhaps I should have discussed the subject of this blog post with her earlier: "Is it a bridge too far to ask my mother to take her to a half hour Jiu-Jitsu class four times a week?"

A little context may be in order:

My day starts at 5:00 AM when I groggily wake up after 6-7 hours of sleep where I always wake up four hours after sleep.

My day ends between 9:00 to 10:00 pm when I put my daughter to bed.

During the day the only personal time I can manage is during the drive to work and the drive home when my eyes and hands are occupied with the operation of a 3,500 pound vehicle on a two-lane road with drivers who routinely swerve past the center line and I once saw two bad accidents in the course of my round trip to and from work. This personal time is not an optimal time to say, write a blog post, take a master class or exercise one's abdominals.

The other personal time is when I am forced by the digestive process to take a dump whereupon I can peruse articles by Theodore Dalrymple or critiques of Athenian democracy.

When the day goes long at work it's not uncommon for me to have been gone twelve hours.

The point is that my mom sees it as some huge responsibility and burden to drive my daughter to and from school once a day and take her to and from Jui Jitsu four days a week. 

Today she didn't even pick her up from school.

My mother moved down here when she retired six months early after learning of my wife's illness so that she could "help out." In what way she helps out is unclear to me besides occasionally looking after our daughter on a couple of occasions that I could count on one hand.

My daughter goes to an all-day day-care and the drive to and from said day care probably consists of a thirty to forty minute (max) round trip.

If I get home "early" around 4 PM and still nasty and dirty from work in my uniform and my mother is out I've literally had her ask me "So... Umm are you or Leila taking Shaniqua to Jiu-Jitsu?" In this roundabout way of saying: "I don't want to go, can you take her?" 

It's this way of guilting me into doing it and I have never had the balls to confront her and say "DUDE. I've been at work all day and pay the bills. You said you moved down and and moved in to help out. Taking Shaniqua to Jiu-Jitsu is helping out." 

So add another family member to the list of those who have retired from life.  Boomers really have absolved themselves of any responsibility for anything because "I had to work for a living" they say as if the rest of us haven't had to or don't currently do so. 

People like my mom can't see the big picture. They can't understand what an hour a day means to a guy that has zero time to do anything without cutting into sleep. When I'm home with my daughter I do the best I can to talk, play, sing and interact with her; not park her in front of the TV. 

I guess I'm thankful that I see the wreck that my mother is and the symptom it is of a self-centered "me" society compared to the ones I see from overseas which sacrifice comfort see their family members as an extension of themselves.