Following the light curls I performed on Sunday employing a 20-pound dumbbell and blood flow restriction (BFR) bands that I wrote about yesterday, I find today that my upper arms are even sorer than they were yesterday.
As a result ─ and in conjunction with this being my eighth (or am I losing count?) day suffering a respiratory infection ─ I have opted to not exercise this afternoon / evening.
Last evening my younger brother failed to arrive home by the 9:30 p.m. deadline that I have in place for him on those evenings prior to any day when I have an early walk planned, and as a result I got to bed well before 10 p.m. when I heard him finally come into the house.
My wife had not shown up, either.
My cellphone alarm was set for 2:30 a.m., but my coughing was to seriously affect my ability to find and remain asleep. Once I thought that I was hearing my wife move about in 'her' bedroom (we have separate bedrooms), but I came to realize that it was probably my brother moving about in his bedroom, for I think that it may have been around midnight.
That estimate was derived when much later I was to check the time during a period of wakefulness and found it to be something like 1:18 a.m. Then around 1:30 a.m., I did hear my wife enter the house ─ she was quickly saying something to her eldest son, who was still up.
Fortunately she did not sit up too much later, but he did. When my cellphone alarm finally sounded and may have disturbed me from some light slumber, I was to see that he was still up. Nevertheless, I was able to likely sneak away on my planned five-mile walk no later than 2:43 a.m.
But my respiratory illness was taking its toll ─ I had little heart to be venturing away into the night. At least it was dry, and much of the sky was clear of any cloud.
I attempted some pull-ups at a nearby elementary school playground, but my arms were simply too sore. All I could manage was to just pull myself slightly from the ground and hold the position for a seven to 10 count ─ I tried four times, with a 30-count between tries.
By this time, I was actually feeling a little haler where my coughing was concerned.
I was to log something over five miles in the Whalley area, all told. The centre point of my walk is shown on this Google Map, for I remained within the boundaries of 132nd and 140th Streets, and 96th and 108th Avenues. Had I just walked that perimeter, it would have yielded the five miles. However, I took to routes within that frame, and did some overlapping, although not too much.
I am going to have to work hard at diversifying my route on these walks to try and keep it from becoming untenably boring.
Toward its conclusion I returned to the elementary school playground, but by then all I had to do was place some pull on the rings that I had used earlier for pull-ups, and was so physically shocked by the painful strain that was felt by my already sore upper arms that to actually try to suspend my weight was a frightening prospect. I could envision rupturing something.
So I abandoned further stress and came directly home. By the time I was into the house, I discovered the time to be 4:44 a.m. ─ I had been gone virtually two hours. And already, the black night sky was vaguely becoming tinged with dawn's blue.
Perhaps I remained up for a half hour, and then returned to bed.
There came a point thereafter when ─ even though I believed it to still be early ─ I thought it possible that my brother might be up. For some reason, I thought that it was Sunday, and he would likely be reading the Sunday morning edition of The Province that I subscribe to.
I checked the time, and was in near disbelief ─ it was something like 9:50 a.m., and I had been abed for at least 4½ hours! Not only would my brother be up, but so would my wife ─ she had to put in a full day at the Thai restaurant where she is employed part-time and which opens at 11 a.m.
This proved so after I had dressed and emerged from my bedroom. My brother was watching T.V., and my wife was shut up in the bathroom as she readied herself for her long day.
I had no sooner boiled water for a mug of instant coffee, and she was set to leave on her fairly long drive, just offering my brother and I a lifeless goodbye.
When he turned the T.V. over to me to summon up some videos via our Android TV Box, I led us off with a 28-minute video that is apparently part one of six parts to a documentary by Oliver Stone's son, Sean: SEAN STONE I BEST KEPT SECRET I CHAPTER 1:THE BEAST.
Human trafficking, pedophilia, 'Satanic' politics... The Jeffrey Epstein scandal was the tip of the iceberg as Sean Stone, the former host of Buzzsaw, lays out the hidden agenda of the dark elite in this six-part documentary series...
In this 'red pill' journey, Stone explores famous cases like the Franklin Scandal, MK-Ultra and Monarch programming, the Jon Benet Ramsey murder and even the Son of Sam case, to connect the dots of a dangerous ideology, now driving the philosophy of a 'trans-humanist' idea - to remake the human being. As more and more people awaken to these hidden truths, the more rapidly we can rise to take our power back.
I see now that Sean has his own BitChute channel and offers the same video ─ albeit indicated as being 29 minutes in duration ─ here.
In Chapter 1 of the 6 part docuseries from Sean Stone (the former host of Buzzsaw), we are introduced to a hidden reality of conspiracies and deep state actors protecting political pedophiles, as typified by the Franklin Scandal.
Featuring David Icke, Ted Gunderson, Carl Raschke, Nick Bryant, John DeCamp, Paul Bonnaci, Cathy O'Brien, and Michio Kaku
It's curious how different both of these descriptions are. I feel that the first one inflates or stretches the content ─ for example, I didn't even notice anything about Jon Benet Ramsey, nor about transhumanism.
Anyway, when the video was done, I was at a loss in trying to figure out what the full documentary is actually going to be about.
The next video my brother and I watched was a James Corbett Report uploaded to BitChute on May 10: I Read Bill Gates' New Book (So You Don't Have To!). At an hour and 21 minutes, this was quite the book review!
Have you read How to Prevent the Next Pandemic by Bill Gates yet? Well, I have, and let me tell you: it's every bit as infuriating, nauseating, ridiculous, laughable and risible as you would expect. Here are the details.
What was illuminating to me was that Gates apparently never once cited a reference for any of the statistics or medical claims that he casually laid forth as being 'matter of fact'. The unthinking reader is just supposed to glom onto every nugget Gates spews and embrace it as if it is golden scientific fact.
I see that I must bring my post to a close ─ I lost too much of my afternoon in a very detailed response to an E-mail I received from a former co-worker of sorts. I probably invested nigh 1½ hours into the reply, and thereby robbed myself of blogging time.
And it's already after 8 p.m. ─ there is no telling when my brother may show up following his daily 'socializing'. And although my upper arms are too sore for exercising, I ought to at least do some midsection work ─ even if just 50 or 60 leg-raises.
No comments:
Post a Comment