But if you’re Rocky, you let yourself get punched over and over and over… until the other guy collapses from exhaustion.
Maybe Stallone got the idea from the 1974 Ali-Foreman fight in Kinshasa.
For nearly a year leading up to the match, Ali went through a grueling training where he turned his abdomen muscles into a wall of steel (so to speak), then developed an intentional flaw in his stance slightly exposing that area, luring Foreman into attacking the abdomen throughout the fight, which he didn’t know was a futile tactic.
After several rounds where it seemed Ali was getting utterly pummeled, late in the fight, Foreman became tired, his punches going wide, and that’s when Ali stopped playacting like the overwhelmed victim and got down to business, nearly as fresh as an Irish spring as he took the offensive.
For this incredible display, Ali was declared Sportsman Of The Year by Sports Illustrated.
Thank you! It’s always nice to be recognized in one’s own lifetime
:-p
The fact of the matter is that writing is just so much fun for me, maybe because I don’t do it professionally, just here bouncing from topic to topic, free as a bird.
I wake up, take CBD, stretch and meditate for nearly an hour, then sit to browse Lemmy and sometimes write (depending on the mood and coming across a topic that pops), with my iced latte and music, the cats wandering in and out of the room.
Sometimes the mood leans more towards bombarding family or friends with text message threads on random topics.
Some days I’ll skip all that and instead watch science videos on YouTube, particularly physics and cosmology (PBS Space Time to name one, but there are just so many excellent science channels), currently I’m also wading into math videos (Numberphile, Mathologer), just for the heck of it, to see if I can get a grasp on such abstract subjects.
But I never, ever watch any news, shows nor movies, at least not this early in the morning.
Writing for a boss and on a deadline - let’s call it as a caged bird - would probably suck most of the joy out of it, and I don’t intend to find out… not yet, anyway.
But if you’re Rocky, you let yourself get punched over and over and over… until the other guy collapses from exhaustion.
Maybe Stallone got the idea from the 1974 Ali-Foreman fight in Kinshasa.
For nearly a year leading up to the match, Ali went through a grueling training where he turned his abdomen muscles into a wall of steel (so to speak), then developed an intentional flaw in his stance slightly exposing that area, luring Foreman into attacking the abdomen throughout the fight, which he didn’t know was a futile tactic.
After several rounds where it seemed Ali was getting utterly pummeled, late in the fight, Foreman became tired, his punches going wide, and that’s when Ali stopped playacting like the overwhelmed victim and got down to business, nearly as fresh as an Irish spring as he took the offensive.
For this incredible display, Ali was declared Sportsman Of The Year by Sports Illustrated.
I just wanted to say i really like your writing style.
Thank you! It’s always nice to be recognized in one’s own lifetime
:-p
The fact of the matter is that writing is just so much fun for me, maybe because I don’t do it professionally, just here bouncing from topic to topic, free as a bird.
I wake up, take CBD, stretch and meditate for nearly an hour, then sit to browse Lemmy and sometimes write (depending on the mood and coming across a topic that pops), with my iced latte and music, the cats wandering in and out of the room.
Sometimes the mood leans more towards bombarding family or friends with text message threads on random topics.
Some days I’ll skip all that and instead watch science videos on YouTube, particularly physics and cosmology (PBS Space Time to name one, but there are just so many excellent science channels), currently I’m also wading into math videos (Numberphile, Mathologer), just for the heck of it, to see if I can get a grasp on such abstract subjects.
But I never, ever watch any news, shows nor movies, at least not this early in the morning.
Writing for a boss and on a deadline - let’s call it as a caged bird - would probably suck most of the joy out of it, and I don’t intend to find out… not yet, anyway.