![]() Suddenly – total darkness! The lights must have a motion sensor with a time limit. I sit down because I’ve been working my quads this morning and they could do with a break. I turn on the water and stand zombie-like in the cascade. What does he do with himself? Do I want to know? Yes, I decide, I want to know. Here’s where it gets (really) weird: Mark Wahlberg appears to have a 90-minute shower every morning. I feel even less hungry than earlier, but I wolf it all down because I am dreading the prospect of someone walking through the door to find me alone in a changing room eating this home-cooked, dinner-sized meal off a plate at 5.30am. I feel very lethargic and my deadlifting is a full 20kg worse than it was at the beginning of the week. Time passes very slowly as I crawl from dumbbell to dumbbell. I put on a podcast and start some resistance training, but can’t stay focused on either. Entering the gym makes me feel even more hollow and ill than before. The gym’s lights are on, but nobody’s here, which is also an accurate description of my mental state. Dawn won’t break for another three hours. On the way to Brixton tube, I pass people who are walking back from their nights out. I begrudge them every minute of the sleep they’ll return to once I’ve gone. I’ve been miserably clattering around the house for some time now, and both housemates text me to be quiet as I leave. I grimly spoon it down and pack my stuff to go to the only gym I know to which I can turn up unannounced in the small hours: the office gym. I could not be less hungry, but it’s breakfast time, apparently: oats, blueberries and peanut butter.
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