Originally published by The Clifton Courier, May 22, 2019

Yeahhh sorry, there’s no real impressive illustrations today. I got knocked around by a bastard of a sickness today and, for a while there, felt like I may have pooed the Uber. I don’t know what kind of fines you get for shitting the seat, but I imagine it would be higher than a the standard vom rate. 

Anyway, I managed to keep all fluids/chunks inside me and came home and slept for like five hours and, while I’m feeling better, I’m still a wee bit fragile.

Maybe I’ll get bored and come back to this piece with some whizbang drawings but, for now at least, you’re going to have to make do with your imagination. 

I’ve invented a new kind of workout.

It’s my take on high intensity interval training. I wouldn’t recommend it as a regular thing, but it certainly motivates you to move, raises the heart rate and generally tuckers you out.

It’s important to warm up for this workout, which starts the night before. You want to set yourself up to crank up your cranky levels.

To get yourself nice and grumpy, set your alarm for 6am to hit the markets before work. Go to bed much later than you planned and stare at your phone for at least half an hour before you actually try to sleep.

The next morning, be abruptly jerked from the few minutes deep sleep you experienced that night by your alarm.

Have a pre-workout shake alternative – a cup of tea – to get you going.

Use GPS to direct you to the markets, letting it take you not to an entrance you can use as a private citizen, but a large commercial gate that is both closed to the public and on the wrong side of a vast market complex.

When you finally do arrive, be sure to cut your finger on the car’s window guard when you hand over the cash to pay for parking and accidentally squash the large sack of spinach you bought. Then, to make sure you’re good and ready for the workout, miss an important turn on the way back.

Once you arrive home, have your green bag’s strap break as you try to unload your market goods from the car in one trip.

By this point you should be sufficiently miffed, so put on your running gear, including shorts with a tiny zip-up pocket on the butt. Lock the house up, grab your phone for music and chuck the keys in your pocket, being too irritable to muck around fiddling with the zip. Just assume you’ve zipped yourself in. This is essential.

Jog around a 25-minute loop in your neighbourhood, finishing with a killer hill you don’t really ever want to do again. As you run, let your stress levels lower with each huffy exhale until you return to your house calm, hungry and with just enough time to shower and get to work for a nice al-desko (a depressing spin on “alfresco” where you shovel food into your face at your work desk) breakfast.

Feel the pocket for your keys and realise they are gone.

Immediately, you heart rate will shoot back up.

Now realise your housemates are away, you can’t get into your house and that your car keys are also on that key ring.

At this point, your ticker should be beating madly. That’s what you want.

Start running the length of your street, looking on the ground for anything that may resemble your keys. Call work, partly to let them know you may be late, partly to hear the soothing voice of a concerned, authoritative adult.

Next, run back up the street to your house, hoping you missed said keys on the ground. Then call your parents to ask if they still have the spare key to the car that is now undriveable. Feel a little less stressed. Then, call a level-headed mate to calm you further. Have her distract you by talking about herself while you powerwalk along the entire loop you took before.

Get that heart rate back up as you near the end of your route still keyless but also facing the dreaded hill.

Return home empty-handed and let yourself get so panicky you start doing what I like to call the anxiety shake (it’s where you fidget violently and look like you’re trying to swat an invisible fly).

Now it’s time for a mid-workout cool down.  Walk slower along the route for the third time, stopping nearly half-way to wait in line for 10 minutes at the Post Office to see if someone handed them in. Then go to the police station and dismay to find it closed. Call Police Link to report your keys missing and to hear a firm but kind adult in control. Take big, deep breaths to stop yourself from wailing in public.

As you wait to receive the online missing property form link on your phone, walk a further some 20 metres away.

Spot your keys on a low wall along the footpath.

Time for the end-of-workout stinger. Sprint back to your house, keys in hand, and shower faster than you ever have before so you can get to work.

Refuel yourself with a post-workout shake alternative – another cup of tea – when you’ve finally had a chance to stop.

Check your smartphone’s health stats and find you’ve covered a distance of more than 14 kilometres all before 10.30am.

And exhale.