The Solitary Cyclist

Why is it that I cannot enforce a pre-10 p.m. bedtime for myself? By not making it to bed until 10:30 p.m. or later, I am ensuring that I will not seek to set my cellphone alarm to get me up at 3 a.m. for a much needed walk for the sake of my bad right leg. I believe a total of eight consecutive early a.m.s have now passed in which I have walked nowhere.

Certainly, I am probably benefitting from sleeping without any deliberate breaks in my time abed; but I still end up requiring a daily early afternoon nap.

Around or soon after 5 a.m. this morning I was awake enough to be considering rising, but I opted to attempt one final bout of sleep. Then later, unsure that I had actually succeeded, I checked the time and was surprised to discover that over 1½ hours had passed.

When I do not have a wee a.m. walk to exercise my bad leg and also visit the elementary school playground three blocks away to exercise my upper body, I seek to at least have some token pull-ups and chin-ups out in the backyard tool shed. I failed to do so yesterday.

This morning I fixed up a mug of strong instant coffee with the works and was easing my way through that, feeling some concern that the 7 a.m. hour was elapsing too rapidly, when suddenly that concern bore out ─ my younger brother stirred briefly in his bedroom and then emerged for the morning.

It was looking as if I was not going to have an early tool shed session after all. I prefer my various doings such as walk outings and exercising not be known to anyone.

Notwithstanding, I did hatch a workaround scheme of sorts ─ a visit to the garbage wheelie bin in the front of the house. So I bagged up the small bag of bathroom container trash, donned a pair of runners, and haltingly worked my way downstairs and to the front door to discharge the disposal.

Then back in the house, I casually entered the kitchen area as my brother still occupied himself in the living room with the T.V. playing, and I quietly opened the sliding glass door to the backyard sundeck and proceeded on to the shed where I was able to duplicate Saturday morning's breakthrough in pull-ups and chin-ups.

As always, I engage six sets with a 30-count between each set; and the sets are comprised of first two sets of pull-ups, then two sets of chin-ups, and finally two sets of pull-ups between a pair of bars.

When first I began managing to attempt exercising again into early April after my March 1st knee accident that rendered me a cripple, I could no longer even begin to pull my feet aloft ─ let alone even start to pull myself up; I had become so enfeebled.

Eventually I was able to attain a repetition in the very first set, but none in the others. A short while after that, I added a chin-up. Soon, I was managing a single repetition in all sets. Then this past Saturday morning, I managed two pull-ups and two chin-ups in the first set of each, and I have now matched that.

Unfortunately, where the elementary school playground is concerned, I had yet to manage a pull-up on the gymnastics-style rings ─ only between a pair of jungle gym monkey bars. It must be 10 days since I was last there, so I am quite keen on getting back to the playground to determine if even the rings are no longer beyond me.

We actually had a period of very light rain in the earliest morning, but I don't think it had begun before daybreak, so maybe the playground equipment would have been serviceable to use once any condensation had been wiped off the metal to allow a secure grip.

I really must do my best to get over to the school tomorrow around 3:30 - 3:45 a.m. if the night is dry.

Enough of this 75-year-old weakling's exercise talk.

This morning my brother invited me to operate our Android TV Box at 9 a.m., so I led us off with an eight-minute (8:38) video uploaded yesterday to YouTube's The WhatsHerFace Show channel: The HORRIFYING push for BRAIN DEAD surrogacy.

Join me as we dive into the totally-not-suspicious world of brain death. That magical moment when doctors say you're gone, but your body says you aren’t.

In this video, we investigate the story of a brain dead pregnant woman who is being kept alive on life support until her baby reaches 32 weeks gestation and can be safely delivered. A story with twists, turns, and implications that may lead to the change of the already shaky definition of brain death as we know it.

So buckle up, and maybe sleep with one eye open. You never know when your vital signs might become… a government asset.

I removed my name from the organ donor registry here in my province of B.C. possibly two years ago ─ likely more. It was of course for the very reason discussed in the video; but also because of rebellion ─ if I as one of the COVID-unvaxxed would have been denied transplant surgery had I needed it, then no damned way are medical services going to plunder me for ─ and profit from ─ my parts.

I tuned in two more videos, but cut from them because they failed me. The first was just a condensation of a longer video my brother and I had watched a few days ago ─ I hate it when podcasters pull that stunt.

The second video turned out to be nonsense involving a pair of believers in reincarnation. In fact, I am going to drop the host's channel from future viewing.

And so instead I tuned in Yellowstone ─ specifically, it was the season four finale episode 10 ("Grass on the Streets and Weeds on the Rooftops").

Very good!

We finished up with Sherlock Holmes. Specifically, it was episode four ("The Solitary Cyclist") of the very first season, itself titled The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes. My source was this 54-minute (54:15) video published January 7, 2024, to BitChute's Adaneth_TV channel: Sherlock Holmes (TV Series 1984) | The Solitary Cyclist (S01-E04).

Primary guest actress Barbara Wilshere sported the most perfectly lovely milky bosoms, I must say!  

I must break here to have a bath. My younger brother is already home from his daily social drinking, for it is now 7:32 p.m. My afternoon nap was overlong ─ maybe 2½ hours; and thus I have fallen behind on my day. It is no help that my brother returned somewhat earlier than usual.

🟣🟣🟣

I've had the bath, but I see no point in risking becoming involved with my inebriated brother. It is presently 9:17 p.m., and I am going to start shutting down everything here on my computer and get to bed. Maybe I will be having that early a.m. outing ─ I shall set my cellphone alarm for 3 a.m.

Enough for today.