During my long illness, I watched a lot of television. One of the things I got wrapped up in was the cooking show "Mexican Made Easy." Eventually I realized that I wasn't actually interested in the food, I just thought the host, Marcela Valladolid, was cute.
Having been sick for 10 days put me back about a month in training, which didn't surprise me. It was more surprising that the continuous fever has resulted in my having almost continuous deja vu; I can't read more than a page of a book without thinking I've already read it - under exactly the same conditions - and I have to think when paying bills if I've actually already done it, so I have to try to recall what happened right after what I think I remember. It's weird. I think it's getting better, though.
Cute anecdote that could only happen to me
I went to dinner with a friend and it just happened to be in a restaurant partly owned by a woman I used to date. The two women spent the evening comparing notes. "When you were dating, did he...," followed by minutes of laughter.
I ate in silence.
I also thought, as J. sent out an amuse bouche from the kitchen, that this was food to eat while waiting for one's food. No wonder we as a society are so fat! We eat while waiting to eat! I started thinking about how primitive man spent 14 hours a day walking, searching for things to eat, interrupted occasionally with all-out sprints in order to catch something or to avoid being caught. Now, in zoos they have enrichment programs, where the animals have to work to get their food and they seem to be healthier and happier. Maybe that's what we need. You can't eat until you've worked for it (and peeling off a wrapper and nuking doesn't count).
Recent runs
Yesterday was a run at the Brickyard. The recent storms blew down a bunch of trees and all the rain caused a huge landslide (There's about 150 yards that slumped. If this were California, it'd be on the news along with the words "millions of dollars in property lost." We don't build that close to cliff edges here.) It didn't go too well. I did see the first butterfly of the year, about the size of a Silvery Blue, but much more intensely blue... so maybe it's called a "Blue?"
Tuesday I got in a few fast miles - which may account for yesterday's bad show - and then ran with my friend Don, who was telling me about how he was training for field events at a local college while the track team was there. I was the one who told him to do that; I was his coach last year. Nice to hear that a year later he listens to me, even if he thinks it's his own idea. We discussed my plans for next year - the long stuff is ending as I head back to the track and plan an attack on some local age-class records. Anyone know where I can find an indoor track in the Twin Cities this winter where I won't get booted for training there?
I'm starting to get antsy about the 25K in two weeks. The plan, I think, is to go hard up Mystery and Moose Mountains, but ease way back on the downhills to spare my legs on the way out, then, on the way in, to force the pace going up the 650 foot climb up Moose and try to "cook" the last downhill from Mystery, especially once on good footing at the Poplar river bridge. It's a plan, anyway.
Saturday, I'm headed back out to Afton for 30-35 miles, probably starting late to avoid expected morning showers, and really hoping my legs hold out better than last week.
1 comment:
While I am happy that we as a species no longer have to walk around for 14 hours a day (with the occasional fear- or there-goes-my-dinner-sprint); and happier still that I as an individual don't have to do that, I nevertheless agree with you that anything that would oblige Americans to eat better, exercise more, and, for fuck's sake, show some restraint when it comes to indiscriminately shoveling stuff into their main head-hole would be a good thing.
Problem is, there are all these armchair "libertarians" - who are in reality just giant lazy infants used to fetishizing their childish definition of "freedom" - who would, and do, scream at the mere suggestion that it be made less easy for people, especially young kids, to get their hands on unlimited amounts of deep-fried pancakes-'n'-sausage on a stick. Especially if the suggestion that one exercise more and eat less and/or better should come from the gubmint.
So they sit there on their ever-expanding asses saying, "You can pry my microwavable lard sandwich out of my cold, dead, fat fingers. (Pardon me while I wipe my lips with the Bill of Rights.)"
And they think, in saying so, they are striking a meaningful blow for "personal freedom".
It's sad.
And fat.
But mostly sad.
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