Tomorrow I'm working on an art commission. Well, two really, but one needs to be finished faster than the other. I was thrilled to get this commission, for more reasons than one (my goddaughter is getting a sibling, and the art is to celebrate that). So tomorrow shall be a no-writing day.
Hopefully I'll have a bumper writing session today (HAH!) to make up for the terrible day yesterday.
Still, writing is a marathon... More accurately it's like one of those weird cross-country ultra-marathons where you run forever in weird, difficult terrain and start hallucinating after, like, day three. If you want to reach the end, you just gotta keep putting one foot in front of the other. Eventually, you'll reach your destination.
Actually that's really good advice for anything I want to get done. I'm learning to play the guitar. I'm not going to be Tommy Emmanuel overnight. I have to keep plugging away and practicing. Half an hour a day, every day, for a week, a month, a year, a decade. I'll never be a brilliant player, but I'll be good enough to play for enjoyment. There's my destination.
Strength training? Well, I just keep showing up in the mornings. I just keep working out, keep trying and, probably without noticing it, I'll be lifting my body weight. That's my destination. In practical terms, I would like to be able to haul someone my size out of trouble without too much trouble, or lift my own chubby arse over a wall. You know, in case we get hit with a zombie plague, or something.
Also on my list of things to learn in case of zombie plague - bow hunting, tracking, and outdoorsmanship (I'm joking about the zombies, but these skills are genuinely on my wish list).
Right, this blog post got away from me. The point was supposed to be that I didn't have a good writing day yesterday, but will keep pushing on. It's a game of inches, as they say. I don't know who 'they' are. I think I read Chuck Wendig saying something to that effect in a blog post or three.
Right, I have to go. I have work to do.