Why not Day 1? Why must things start on Day 1? Isn’t it nice, at times, to allow randomness to take over our otherwise regimented lives? Almost liberating if you ask me. So, with this liberating randomness, let’s read on.
Having (hopefully) addressed that question, I’d also like to dispel any notions the title of this post might have given about it being a prelude to a loosely inspired Hollywood thriller. A countdown to D-Day that showcases Mr. or Ms Bourne unravelling the “Who Dunnit ?” mystery through a bewildering maze of physics-defying, logic-bending and common-sense-challenging actions. This ain’t such a thriller taking the reader through a chain of exhilarating events culminating in Day 13.
However, I feel it my comic duty to lay down the following disclaimer :
Day 13
✅Language (limited-to the narrator’s ears and imagination)
U/A 16+ ✅Violence (some-towards the end–see Revolt of the Limbs for context)
❎Sexual content (None-and there goes 50% of the readers out the exit window)
Day 13 is, as they say in the current technologically morphed literature world, “a blog.” It is the modern-day tech-savvy offspring of a journal or diary entry.
The concept of a journal dates eons back to when mankind discovered pen and paper and, like self-ordained priests, united them. The eventual outcome was the birth of beautifully crafted words and sentences that preserved lasting memories and events – personal or otherwise. These diverse and sometimes informative catalogues would endure for generations to come.
Or perhaps it was simply one bored person’s instinctive need to doodle! Who knows…? What I do know for sure is that this “penned doodling” forms the heart and soul of this blog and defines its character.
My blog is called “The Empty Talk”. As the title suggests, it doesn’t offer any wistful words to solve the many emotional paradoxes of life. And it is definitely not a catalogue of historical significance (though it does offer mild doses of self-awareness). The Empty Talk is simply unfiltered nonsense that I often ponder but never thought to type out before.
So without further ado, let us kick off with the first empty talk which happened to fall on Day 13.
The MORNING
Aaahhh… mornings! The rays usher in the daily rigmarole that one has mastered over a decade now – famaging – managing a typical family morning – the art of getting rid of the family by 8 am (or, if luck be, even sooner !). A skillset common to all mothers of the world. Nopes, we aren’t born with it nor do we get any specialized training to hone it. It’s a complex algorithm that we awaken to on any random beautiful morning, and then, with patience and perseverance (interspersed with a few choice curse words), we get on with it.
So my ordeal was over today by 7:53 am, and the light beckoned me towards the direction of greenery and good health aka – an early morning workout. I decided to head out and give the Bulging tummy, the Mega Thor arms and the Hips that do lie, a good shake.
A good workout calls for equally good gear – cap, sweatband, smartwatch, earbuds and of course the thing that sticks to us more than our own shadow these days: the smartphone.
All charged (devices) and literally geared up (me), to the park I head to finally work on that elusive beach-perfect body.
With a confident strut, I step out of the elevator, the door opening to the pump-up Top 100 Workout Playlist on Spotify. I make my way across the street and onto the park, imagining the crowd stopping in mid-action to stand and applaud me for stepping it up today!
In reality, before my feet could even hit the ground, I feel the wwwhhhooossshhh of a seasoned sprinter zoom by. No applause! Not even a cursory glance in my direction. The cold toned dismissive shoulders of the regulars seem to glare at me.
However, I refuse to weasel out of this overwhelming welcome. CHALLENGE ACCEPTED!
I march straight into the inner circle, ready to resurrect my muscles, and maybe intimidate any future newcomers with my very own wwwhhhooossshhh factor!
At this point in time let me lay out the visuals of this exercise world for you. There are two circles in this one: the inner and the outer. The outer circle is frequented by the brawny machines – muscular and athletic supremos, ruled by the daily fitness regime. Then there’s the inner, home to the leaners – mortals accustomed to prolonged periods at reclining angles. No prizes for guessing which one yours truly belongs to.
My inner posse in sight I eagerly join them. Let the walk begin …
“I feel good…tada dada da da daaa….” (James Brown definitely knew that I would now!) song in my subconscious drowning out the metal-fueled high-energy beats of my Top 100 workout playlist.
5 meters… 10 meters… 20… 50 meters and I’m feelin’ the grove and the sweat (already?!?) tada dada da da daaaa…Today’s the day… This is it… Why didn’t I do this sooner ?… multiple mini conversations with myself as I approach the 100-meter mark.
That’s when it always happens. Just as you reach the pinnacle of self-assurance and pride. When within weeks (in my case seconds) of claiming the throne you were vying for your entire life. That’s when it strikes – Jon Snow’s dagger through the heart-shattering dreams, reality, trust…et al. The ultimate loss in the Game of Thrones… did Daenerys really have to die? (Oops spoiler alert – though it should’ve come earlier right?)
Anyway, since I’ve already spoiled it for you…much like what spoiled my inner health mojo…I’ll tell you what happens next.
As my eyes adjust to the surroundings, I become aware of something moving gracefully in the innermost circle of the park (Innermost – apparently there are 3 circles now ! )
Nudged in a discreet corner of the circle (yes, breaking the laws of geometry here) stands what can only be defined as – Lady Venus. A tall, toned and athletic 10/10 model type. Oblivious to everyone and everything around her, she is immersed in ensuring that her perfection stays intact.
With the feeling of already having lost my claim to the Iron Throne of Health within 100 meters of embarking on the quest, I slyly manoeuvre my way towards a less intimidating crowd.
James Brown – I feel good, once the soundtrack of my subconscious, is now replaced – consciously and subconsciously by the metal-fueled, high-energy beats of my Top 100 workout playlist. No wonder you didn’t stand a chance! Did GOT open with James Brown’s “I Feel Good”? Silly you !
100 meters, 200 meters, 300 meters, 3, 2, 1…. ROUND 1 – LEVEL 1 – FIGHT!
Beyond Lady Venus working out for her Iron Throne, is a group of dedicated Boomers giving the outdoor gym a go. One can’t help but admire their grit and determination. They are handling it with such ease and enjoyment.
While I was just beginning to question my spontaneous decision to show up, the Boomers come to my rescue, egging me on. And egg, I do on, clumsily, determined to push past my doubts, if only to avoid looking like a fool in front of my newfound workout mentors.
Awkwardly, rolling on the inner plate of the park, hoping to eventually crack the code to a successful workout, I wind my way past the basketball players and the volleyball enthusiasts.
Young, vibrant and energetic Gen Z. They seemed to have effortlessly discovered their inner Zen simply by being born into this unique era-shaping letter. Unlike those of us belonging to Gen X (aka the Forgotten Generation, forever searching for meaning in our existence by trying to locate our house/car keys, without the help of AirTag !) or Gen Y – the Generation constantly questioning everything, all thanks to the ubiquitous ‘Y’! Being born under these Epoch-defining Alphates deprived us of the chance to achieve our very own Zen.
Gen Z‘s shouts and war cries overpower my Top 100 music as I try to escape out of their zone attempting to blend into a diverse mix of multi-dimensional individuals.
Halfway through the circle, just as I think things could not get any visually worse for me, I am greeted by the next category of health freaks – muscles in motion.
There are circles and then there are sub-circles, not to mention corners within the circles. Brawnies, Leaners, Khalesi (Lady Venus), athletic Boomers, Gen Z and to top it all up – the Terminators!
The Terminators – (thank you Mr. Arnold Schwarznegger!) gym devotees, followers of the Iron Path, fitness zealots – you name it. Disciples of fitness pursuing the art of bodybuilding by way of applied Science – i.e. calorie counts, calorie intake, muscle mass, body mass. A world where the right choice is not between a Coke or a Pepsi/ Beer or Wine(in my case), but WPC (Whey protein concentrate), WPI (Whey protein isolate), WPH (Whey protein hydrolysate).
Whey …TF !!!! Day 13 is truly living up to its moniker of nightmares for me.
But that’s the beauty of a mere “walk”. You can simply walk away from all your impending troubles, perceived threats or in this case – encounters of the third kind (or was it fourth ?).
Brisk walking away into reality, the gods and goddesses finally decide to show some kindness to me as I step into the next realm of giggles, laughter and shrieks of excitement.
The Age of Innocence – an era untouched by measurement matrixes or fitness choices. A time when one’s mind, body and soul can be as carefree and uncoordinated as one desires. The more muddled up you are, the better your chances of attracting smiles and compliments. It’s a Eutopian world where the only competition is between your hair and your clothes as to which one can dishevel faster.
Little feet running, jumping, hopping, skipping or chasing something – a friend, a leaf, a shadow, a pigeon that seems not the least bit perturbed by them. A cat, being chased by a tiny boy who recently discovered a faster way to get to places and objects. After all, why walk when you can run? J (The cat though, unlike the pigeon, doesn’t appreciate this unwarranted attention and quickly darts away).
Finally, a positive non-threatening, spirits-lifting environment welcomes me as I carefully avoid the little boy’s dash at the cat!
With this, I complete the first full circle of my not-so-empty walk.
ROUND 1 – fertig!
This is the time when I test how smart my watch actually is by checking the stats flashing on the screen as I lift my wrist. It informs me that my heart is pumping at above normal rate (Well, I could feel it – didn’t need a watch to tell me that !). Also displayed are the calories and kilocalories to befuddle the already disoriented sweet mind of mine.
And there, the stat that truly matters: Avg Pace – 11.35”/km, well below my personal best of 9 min/km.
ROUND 2 becomes a mission to get back on track weaving through all the distractions that I encountered in the first round. Yet, I am still shy of that magical number 9!
Start of ROUND 3, pacing at a steady 10, I comfort myself.
“It’s ok, Rome wasn’t built in a day !”
Though, I sometimes wonder – what if it had been? Would they then have had to look for some other city that wasn’t built in one day? Or perhaps the saying itself would have changed. The builders having achieved such a monumental feat in record time, compelling philosophers to reconsider their perspective on life. “Rome was built in a day” – the new expression – emphasizing the need to stop procrastinating, get moving, and accomplish things at an accelerated pace. In a nutshell, a hellish scenario for me!
Imagine being further pushed and rushed to work and achieving success at breakneck speed, much to the delight of aspiring chiropractors. And with this transformed philosophy my 9 min/km would have been my personal worst!
Phew! Thank you, Romans, for taking your time so that I can take mine!
And take my time I do, as I bring Round 3 to a close.
ROUND 4 – the adrenaline
Adrenaline, the hormone that plays a crucial role in the “fight-or-flight” response to perceived danger or stress(I read the actual definition in a self-help book). In my case – the pack encircling me. I am in desperate need of this boost and the only way to get it is by stepping up my game up many notches. In these dire straits (Oh! How I wish it was the band !), I decide to self-administer this much-needed surge of energy by turning the “brisk walk” (was it really?) into a jog!
This sudden epiphany is passed on to my legs, which relay the message along to the hamstrings and thus begin the stretching session.
The left leg is easy and cooperative, but the right one is being its usual stiff self. 1…..2…..whoosh….lift….stretch…easy….3….4…..whoosh…..5….6…whhoooOUCH !
Just Great…is that an injury before the start of the season? Nothing that a quick doze of my new addiction-the adrenaline- won’t fix. I ignore the stubborn right and head towards the elite outer circles.
The cooperative left and the obstinate right refuse to do the tango until a familiar sound brings them together.
“I feel good … Ta-da-da-da…” Mr. Brown makes another subconscious guest appearance.
A quarter of a quarter down, I start questioning my decision. One of the very many I’ve made in my life. However, as the newest member of the Outliers Club, I can’t chicken out.
Another phrase I don’t fully comprehend – “chicken out“. Why not, “sheep out” or “cow out”, “pig, dog, cat, horse…out”? There were so many other animals on Mr Mc Donald’s farm, and yet the poor chicken had to be it! Did the chicken’s courage fail faster than the others? And if so, I’d love to know which scale Mr. Mc. Donald used to measure their respective timidness.
Nah, I ain’t “Mc. Donalding out” (why I think humans are more timid than animals).
Embrace for impact! Remember the Romans!
ROUND……? By this point in time ignoring the need for speed and focusing instead on maintaining a ballerina-like balance (and, consequently, my dignity), I look straight ahead.
I feel like Flo-Jo, but in reality, my movements resemble those of Keanu Reeves in Slow-Mo, dodging bullets in The Matrix!
This is where the Revolt of the Limbs (U/A 16+ Violence rating) sets in motion.
The Brain, where sits the seat of power – the Trinity – Pride, Vanity & Motivation. A while ago they voted in favour of subjugating the Limbs‘ free will(mild walk), forcing them to hasten (Jog).
Revolting against such an authoritative decree, the lower Limbs refuse to lift off. They find an ally in “Gravity“, which eagerly joins forces with them, holding them down. The moment the two unite, they unleash a war cry that is heard by the knees, eventually triggering a full-body unrest that culminates in an agonizing realisation and a harrowing oath echoed by the power seats of the brain! F#@!!!###.
Vanity, ever so vain and perceptive, holds fort, encouraging Pride and Motivation to ignore the minor insurrection. Pride ensures the head remains held high, while Motivation drives me to push further. As if magically sensing the unrest, The Top 100 workout playlist pops up a track that seems to be the perfect anthem for the momentary struggle of my life. It goes something like this :
“You feel like you don’t have the energy to get back up, you don’t have the strength to get back up, you feel like giving up is the only option…” pumping music ensues….. “YOU GOTTA GO FOR IT….”
With these encouraging words, seemingly written just for me, I do go for it – at least for a while – until “Sanity (the kind twin sister of Vanity) – the peacemaker – comes to my rescue and brokers a peace between the Limbs and the Trinity. The back, body, senses, and mind – once vigorously thrown in different directions – are now encouraged by her to return. Gratefully, I feel the collaboration working as I let out a loud labored breath.
The Revolt of the Limbs is subdued, and the cooldown phase is initiated.
Phew !!! I know…
Done and dusted, not to mention exhausted, I grab the nearest tree for support noticing the flashing stats on my dumbwatch. At this point, I am beyond caring what it reads. I can feel my heart pounding out of my chest, my muscles aching, my bones displaced, my vision blurred, and my mind fogged. Proof enough that it was an intense workout…So thank you smartwatch, but I think I can do my own self-assessment.
Ignoring the circling flashes and the green stick figure coach, I set off in search of some solitude. A workout for the body necessitates one for the mind. As it turns out, I spot a secluded corner right next to the left of me – Queen’s Landing – the place ruled by Lady Venus a while ago. Now, it lies vacant, waiting for new conquerors.
Gear off – watch, cap, sweatband, music switched to meditative mode, I focus my gaze on the tree right in front of me and close my eyes.
Breath in… breath out… in…out…..mmmmmmm….pppphhhhhhhhh.
A soothing breeze joins me in my quest for enlightenment, while the fallen leaves rustle away from my feet brushing gently against them.
I am one with nature – I am the leaf, I am the tree, I am the breeze…Ahhh the breeze, it’s so refreshing. The leaves let out a soft sigh of approval, which quickly turn into a resounding applause. Encouraged by this ensemble, the breeze decides to join in the celebration and blow even stronger!
MY GEAR ….., what if the stupid breeze blows my sweaty cap away ?!? I should’ve placed my watch on it, but with all the ads boasting about its leaf-thin weight, it wouldn’t have been of much use anyway. Damn! They’ll both fly away now and with them, the proof of my hard-earned sweat !!!
So with this heightened insecurity taking precedence over an enlightened mind, I submit to the realisation that a workout for the mind isn’t working out after all. Thank you, stupid breeze, and silly leaves. Forces of Nature, I tell you…
I open my eyes only to sheepishly (if it weren’t for these animals, the English language wouldn’t be where it is today) realise that everything is exactly where I left it. In fact, they look calmer and more at ease than I could ever hope to be. Lady Venus‘ energy rubbing off on them! Bloody energy-sucking Dementors! No wonder peace eluded me!
Cursing and picking up the gear I put the dumb watch on. The Peanut-themed watch face jumps up excitedly to greet me (technology, having eliminated the need for an actual pet for me). I look at where Snoopy is pointing – 9:13 a.m. Now, all the cardinals point in only one direction – HOME.
Exhausted, I walk the last mile, crisscrossing all the circles. My distorted vision turns them into ovals, rectangles, diamonds and stars – basically, wobbly shapes of all kinds. Squinting, I try hard to focus on the exit gate, the small street, the zebra crossing (animal nochmal ! Really ? Dear Zebra, why anyone would dare cross you is both unfathomable and unforgivable), the entry gate, lobby, elevator, door, left, right, left and………!!!
And that is the end… or rather was the end of Day 13. Well, it was just one or so hours of it, but felt like an eternity. So, I’m not even going to attempt the next 23 and will end the doodling here.
I learnt a lot this day. For starters (yes my mind is thinking chicken wings and honey chilli potatoes) – why want a beach body when you’re a hill person? Always listen to your subconscious. There is a reason Mr. James Brown penned that song – ta-da-da-da-da…da !
Cheers !
As Bugs Bunny wisely put it….THAT’S ALL FOLKS ! or was it Daffy Duck ….? Duck….Wabbbit ??? (Rolling eyes emoji).
Was your Day 13 any different from mine? Feel free to comment on my comments! Go to the “About You” page and let me know.
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