I had a few days last week where I skipped push-ups because my shoulder was hurting. A few days ago I had a massage therapist work on that area, and the good news is he was able to really loosen it up. The bad news is that now my right arm is unusually weak. Yesterday I could barely manage fifty push-ups, and today I got to sixty. It feels like I am essentially doing one-handed push-ups with my left arm, and my right arm is just kind of tagging along. I don't know what that is about, I may have to do some more physical therapy or massage there. It just feels so weird, after so much time of just knocking out a hundred in four sets with minimal struggle (and even then, only in the last ten or so), to now feel like I am fighting right from the first one.

But this was never meant to be about strength training, it's all about time spent on the treadmill watching Doctor Who, and that I did today. Let's talk about it.

As I might have previously mentioned, I am currently in rehearsal for a stage production of Xanadu which opens two weeks from tonight. I am completely emersed in 80's music and pop culture, which also happens to be exactly when I was a teenager so it's all very nostalgic for me. That being the case, today's episode - set in 1983 - fit my mood perfectly.

So let's talk about that.

So the whole thing that derailed me yesterday? It kept me up half the night and even led to body horror stress nightmares. If you are reading this, Michael Montoure, I have a story idea for you involving tongues and parasites. So that's nice. The good news is, the issue finally got resolved by lunchtime today and all is good with the world. So the second half of the day was lovely and stress free, and wrapped up with glitter and roller disco and healthy dose of Mister Cellophane.

I will say this, though, today's Doctor Who treadmill viewing very certainly belonged right there in the unpleasant half of the day. So let's talk about that.

Oh lordy, the Time Treadmill kicked by butt this morning. I started doing my push-ups and immediatly though, huh, maybe I could just do twenty five today...? But I pushed my way through it and got all hundred done, got on the treadmill, and holy cow was it a battle to go the entire fifty five minutes. If it weren't for the fear of disappointing you, my dear imaginary readers, I might not have made it.

I reached the end of another era today, and with more than 93% of all episodes viewed it seems like this ridiculous project is rushing towards its ending. This morning saw the final appearance of Rory Williams, and essentially the final appearance of Amy Pond (she will appear briefly one more time as a vision). Amy and the Eleven have been tied intrinsically together since Day One, so this made for pretty momentous viewing. The age of The Girl Who Waited is over, and tomorrow the age of The Impossible Girl begins in earnest.

So let's talk about that.

 Yes, I walked on the treadmill today. Yes, I watched Doctor Who today. Yes, I want to go to bed. So let's talk about the middle thing so I can do the last thing.

I took a personal day today. I mean, yeah, I still did my morning workout and watched Doctor Who, but after being up late last night doing a software release and with nothing urgent happening work-wise, I took the day and spent time catching up on a few other things. And as soon as I post this, I will be back to memorizing lines. Good times.

So let's talk about cybernetic gunslingers so I can get this over with.

Oh, this episode. It was so clearly an Elevator Pitch, just a title that somebody said out loud and somebody else said, "Yeah!" On the whole it comes off better than Snakes on a Plane (how could it not?), so let's talk about it briefly so I can move on.

This is going to be brutally brief, as I expect many of these posts will be for the next two months. I started rehearsal for a new show and I need to be completely off book by Sunday, so I need to go memorize like crazy. That doesn't mean I am skimping on treadmill time, though. I put in my hundred pushups and fifty five minutes. By God I am going to see this ridiculous project through to the end.

So let's talk about today's surprise debut.

(The answer is, of course, because they are going to be sad later.) I just finished a great rehearsal for the show I am in this summer, and even finished two hours early. Bonus! Now I just need to write this post and then I can go to bed. Yay! It's been two weeks, so it's Christmas again already. And then next Monday it will be Christmas again, because it's Doctor Who and time gets all wibbly-wobbly.

But let's not get ahead of ourselves, and stick to Christmas 2011. Or 1941. Or, actually, 5345. Like I said, wibbly wobbly.