PAX is now less than a month away. This year it lasts four days. Four days. I’m going to let that sink in.
It has historically only taken two days for the event to take its toll on me, and last year, no joke, in January I started going to the gym daily to work up the endurance and immuno-fortitude to endure the event.
The subsequent year has not been nearly as kind to me. Or, perhaps what would be more truthful to say, is that I have not been nearly as kind to myself. The couch has been a far too accommodating companion, and the gym is a distant memory of some long-ago place I had once frequented in childhood but haven’t visited in years. I’d say I’ve added a little over two stones to my bottom line, which if you are a doctor or fluent in arcane units of measurement, you know is not insignificant, or, in fact, good.
So what does this year hold? I’m not really sure. I think this time I am the least prepared, not exactly ambivalent, but not entirely engaged. I hope to have the good fortune of dining with the Twitch crew I’ve met up with for the last two years (which seems likely as I’ve been made responsible for finding the place we’re all going to dine at), and staying in the hotel attached to the venue for two nights presents me with the opportunity to partake of some of the evening events without all that mucking about in Ubers, trains, and busses.
I’m sure there will be much to see and much to do. I will use my skills honed at previous PAX to get the good stuff at the merch booth first thing on the first day before I do anything else. I’ll pack my cliff bars and my water bottle, and I will bravely go forth into the frothy ocean of humanity, PAX Pox be damned. I will endeavour to post my exploits and perhaps I’ll even have a video or two. I hope to do all of that and share it with you because, well, you’re my kind of folk.
And with that I shall end this post. Marmotinnians, I bid you a good day.