Lift and Laugh Fitness

26/12/2025

The festive limbo

Existing in that strange end-of-year limbo where nothing counts, no one expects anything, and every decision feels temporary.

Joy, dread, spending, and emotional reflection all happening at once.
This isn’t a breakdown…it’s seasonal programming.

I will unpack it later. Probably with a professional.


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22/12/2025

When Ger met Sally.

It was fast. It was reckless. It was never meant to last.
Three weeks on her back and somehow we convinced ourselves it would never end.

I rode her for sunset.
I rode her before the gym.
I rode her in the dark.
I rode her after some gin.
I rode her hot and sweaty.
I rode her in a thunderstorm.
I rode her soaking wet.

She carried me through chaos, calm, and whatever state I was in that day.
No questions asked. No judgement. Just a little pep in her step.

It may have been brief, but it was passionate.
Fun was had. Lessons were ignored.

She will be missed.


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21/12/2025

I am not calm, I am just well-lit and deeply convincing about it.

I’m tangled, overthinking, wildly self-aware, and still choosing chaos because silence has never done anything for my character development.

I’ve tried being reasonable. I’ve tried being quiet. It turns out momentum suits me better than peace and honesty beats politeness every time.

If this feels like the start of a villain arc, relax…it’s just me refusing to dim myself for the sake of keeping things tidy.

Anyway.
If I make one last questionable decision before the year ends, no I didn’t.

It was for the plot.


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18/12/2025

Came to Bali for rest and relaxation.

We also chose mud, speed, waterfalls, and questionable decision-making.

Doughnuts under waterfalls.
Actively avoiding airtime into rice fields.
ATV suspension may have been harmed.
My nervous system, however, is thriving.

Sometimes turning your brain off involves a surprising amount of chaos.


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17/12/2025

Margarita in hand.

Holiday brain on.

Clients out here rewriting their own origin stories.

If you’re ready to be one of those screenshots next time…

Message or comment “SMUG”
and I’ll tell you exactly what you need to do to secure your spot for 2026.

Fair warning: results may cause confidence, strength, and unsolicited smugness.


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14/12/2025

Raised in an era of…

“life’s not fair,” emotional suppression, and humour so dark it’s basically night vision.

Now I cope by laughing, dissociating tastefully, and continuing out of pure spite.

Mentally stable? Kind of.
Self-aware? Unfortunately.
Alive? Against all odds.

Thriving is a strong word, but surviving loudly feels right.


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11/12/2025

Bali belly had me on the porcelain throne like Elvis in his final moments…

Sweating, praying, and accepting my fate.

These memes?
My only emotional support during the I’m definitely dying saga. (Outside of the lads)

Every cramp felt like the universe unplugged me and tried to plug me back in again… but missed.

The white light hasn’t taken me yet though…

I’ve too much chaos left to cause and too many snacks left to eat.

If laughter is the best medicine, then these memes kept me alive long enough for Dioralyte to finish the job.


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11/12/2025

05/12/2025

This is a culinary obituary…

for everything I’ve put in my gob in Bali.

And yes, the sombrero was necessary. It’s the emotional support hat of a man unhinged by good food.

Here’s the truth:
Food is meant to be enjoyed.
Especially on holidays.
Especially at restaurants.
Especially when you’re with people you like enough to share chips with.

Saying no to food you actually love in situations where food is literally part of the celebration?

Madness. Unwell. Couldn’t be me.

Cutting out “bad foods” on holiday won’t undo whatever you’ve been doing the last 6 months.

And eating a few highly-palatable bits won’t derail your life…

unless you come home and spend a week guilt-spiralling instead of just moving the f**k on.

Have your meals.
Have your moments.
Have your Bintang.

Then come home, unpack the suitcase trauma, and get back to work.

Joy now. Discipline later.

Both can exist without you punishing yourself for living.


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**kingfood

03/12/2025

The last two days nearly ended me.

Two CrossFit sessions and a Muay Thai class later and I was sweating like I’d been mugged by a swimming pool.

The sadistic part of my noggin? Loved every second of the torture.
The rest of my body? Currently walking like Bambi on ice and considering a hoist system for the toilet.

Here’s the bit you don’t want to hear:
Even if you love killing yourself off with exercise… recovery is just as important.

DOMS hit me like a bus full of regrets…proper delayed onset muscle soreness, the kind where you rethink your life choices.

And that’s why I’m not training today.
Not because I’m lazy.
Not because I’m “losing momentum.”
But because training through pain isn’t hardcore…it’s stupid.

More isn’t better.
Always being sore doesn’t mean you’re progressing, it means your body can’t keep up.

You need the balance:
Days where your b***y is talking to you in the morn (and not the morning toots),
and days where you can genuinely take a battering and recover from it.

Find the sweet spot.
Train hard, rest harder.

Or end up walking like a newborn deer and gripping the counter to get on the toilet.


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