My version of the Rumble in the Jungle
My version of the Rumble in the Jungle. Not quite the way Foreman and Ali did it in Kinshasa in 1974, but probably the closest I can get in my own garden. Just the gloves and a reason to start exercising.
What awaits beneath the apple tree’s shadow?
What awaits beneath the apple tree’s shadow?
No time for hesitation.
Time for the gloves.
On a Friday night like this
The moon glows tonight, guiding my steps. On a Friday night like this, I could be on a crowded dance floor — but not this time. Tonight, I stand outside with my kettlebells, close to the snow, the air freezing, and I feel alive.
Office hours 2.0
In the middle of a transformation, my days are now divided between work, training, and sleep. I’ve built a daily food plan and combined it with two exercise sessions, with every day ending in outdoor training, alone in the dark. The routine has set in, and going down there every night has become part of my rhythm, just to feel the beat.
And when Saturday arrives, I reward myself with a glass of American wine from Columbia Valley in Washington State, because I’m worth it.
