Let it not be said that when
E.F. Hutton my body talks, I don’t listen. So, while yesterday was an “off” day from VD3, I did 20 minutes of leg and hip stretching at lunch, and had every intention of engaging in some small-team soccer with some coworkers in the evening.
“Small team” is 3-on-3 or 4-on-4, not 1-on-1. Game called on account of apathy. So I wandered into the gym and just kind of looked apathetically at the equipment and yawned a lot. Two sets of a few reps (machine shoulder press, X-pulldown) and I was in full-on “fuck it, it’s supposed to be my day off” mode, and went home, where, after a light (off-program) dinner of chips and salsa — yes, my willpower went to shit yesterday, too — I went to bed.
And, other than a few minutes at 9:00, 11:30, and 3:00, I was pretty much a corpse with a pulse until about six this morning.
Sleep is one of the most overlooked parts of a good training regimen, and, obviously, my body wanted a whole lot more than it had been getting this week, to cope with the various demands made on it vis a vis diet, training, and other stressors (full disclosure: I’m arguably mildly clinically depressive, so this could very well be symptomatic of a bout of that).