Running Backward

Carmenere gone, seasonally-inappropriate Grinch boxer shorts on (“I know just what to do”). Liam going down for sleep, nice and clean and teeth brushed, even if it IS always against his will. Montevina zin in the glass.

My stomach is so full, it reminds me I’ve neglected to mention that lately I’ve been finishing off Liam’s leftovers in addition to my own dinners. Last night I had an extra helping of about ¾ of an ear of corn with a few roasted ‘taters snuck in there, which I was pleased to realize. Tonight I ate his chicken breast. I always start off so far ahead of the day’s beginning, so I’ll try to work backward.

There’s about ¼ of a pint of some sorbet Angie bought now in the freezer. It’s peach champagne flavored, or something like that, and it was made by Talenti (I would normally be going through a pint of ice cream every other night, but things have been different lately, and you don’t get to know why), and I wouldn’t normally even think to eat it, but my belly is even more full now and it wasn’t before I ate that half pint, so now all is well. Man, back to front is confusing. There WAS about ¾ of a pint of that stuff in the freezer, before I started.

I polished off Liam’s chicken breast and his last bit of mashed ‘taters. Mashers. No garlic. Our meal tonight had no garlic which, in the Golaski household, is almost like a dinner without alcohol, but maybe even more rare. I ate my chicken, my mashers, and a wacky mix of green and purple beans from the garden. I always eat my vegetables first because I don’t like ‘em as much when they’re cold and vegetables tend to get cold fast, so I dig right in.

Before that, I cooked the dinner: chicken breasts in a green peppercorn cream sauce that I fucked up once and had to start over ‘cause I haven’t cooked it in a long time. Uh oh, did I type fuck? Oh, no: I typed fucked. Moving essentially sideways, I’ll consider all of the dinner-cooking to have happened at once. So the chicken in peppercorn sauce, green and purple beans from the garden, and some mashers from the farmer’s market. I mean, the ‘taters were from the market—I cooked and mashed ‘em. The peppercorn sauce I made with half and half, so I used some of that in the mashers as well. I was already drinking that carmenere.  

I did the dishes. I hadn’t done them after dinner last night, which is often the case (perhaps sadly), but I had to do them before cooking, so I did them. The kitchen could have been cleaner. It wasn’t. This is my life. I don’t like cleaning; I just know I have to do it.

I ate a handful of blackberries. I picked a handful of blackberries. I walked to the blackberry bushes that explode from our neighbors’ yard and are neglected by most, stopping to lean over, recover, and recover my breath. I ran.

So my Garmin Forerunner was charged tonight. I wore it, but I didn’t let myself look at it at all while I was running. This is no easy thing for me. But I wanted an honest run, nothing pushed or altered by pacing or pushing or what-have-you—I just wanted to gauge how I’m running. I could run backward, but this blog entry hadn’t been conceived yet. Thank goodness. The battery in my heart rate monitor is dead and I need to replace it, so I have no heart rate data. Wanna know what one of my runs looks like, Forerunner-style? See below.   

It’s hard to see probably, I know. That’s the Sutter/Landis loop, el-reverso—more appropriate: Landis/Sutter, but why would you care? It’s not flat, but I’m not climbing mountains. The stats, since they may be hard to discern: total distance 3.43 miles; elevation gain 93 feet; average pace of 6:55/mile; elevation loss is an obvious error because it was a loop, so it had to be the same as the gain, although a 2-foot difference isn’t all that bad, considering; my estimated Caloric burn is based on out-dated me-data). You don't have to do this. You don't have to run 3.43 miles. You don't have to run a sub-7:00 pace. You don't have to run. (Sure, maybe you do more and faster, and my hat is off to you.) Just do SOMETHING. Even better: do something you wouldn't normally do. I pushed myself a bit harder tonight, maybe. It's the irony of this blog. I'm getting off-base.

Every time I run a loop I think about the fact that, as far as physics is concerned, no matter how far I run or how much elevation I gain or lose, when I complete that loop I’ve done absolutely no work. That’s physics for you. That and a bunch of calculus.

I was still working when my wife got home from her office at 5:30. I was into something and I needed to get worked out and I’m not opposed to working beyond a standard day when the situation is right. I put in a long day of work today. The situation was right enough. It demanded such measures.

I played with Liam a bit, but felt bad being so focused on my work. He woke up from his nap just minutes after 4:00pm. I worked and worked and worked before that. I sent emails. I tried to figure things out. I laughed at the crappiness of some work that had been done, which also made me cry a little inside. I finished my lunch.

Are you keeping up? Or back? I’m having a hard time. This concept blows, but I’m committed, and when I commit to something…timmoc I.

Lunch? Okay: roasted peppered turkey breast on the double fiber bread, stout and stoneground mustard, red-leaf lettuce, red onion, Swiss cheese. Corn chips, because I forgot my potato chips at the office. I hated myself for that for a minute, but the corn chips did the job.

I put Liam down in his crib, already sleeping. I picked him up from daycare. I ate an apple on the way to switch cars with my wife. (Have I ever mentioned or explained that? I don’t know right now.) I left the office later than I should have, sometime after 12:30. Work is taking a lot of my time and focus, lately.

<<Refill. I won’t refill my wine glass again tonight…probably.>>

I sat on my exercise ball, office door closed, rocking and and dancing and smiling and eating almonds and a banana and guzzling water. I worked. I had meetings.

I solved problems.

Maybe I just recognized problems.

I created problems.

I finished my bowl of oatmeal, and thankfully I’d remembered to take the new box of oats and flax I’d forgotten yesterday to the office with me today. Two packets down my gullet, along with the usual mocha. I take my own cocoa mix for my mochas—I prefer it that way.

<<YAAAAAWWWWN>>

I got to the office, after having left home and listened to NPR on the way. I didn’t pay much attention to NPR because the news is annoying me lately. I had kissed my wife and son goodbye. They left shortly before me.

I got my shower in, and before that spent some time in the garden. I got Liam some milk, kissed him and played with him, changed his diaper, and took him out of his crib. He was awake at 6:45. I got out of bed at 6:45. I slept well last night. I’d only taken one valium. I did drink quite a bit. Well. That’s what I do…sometimes.

To the Presentmobile, Robin! I see my houseplants need care. Most of them need water, others have special needs. I won’t deal with any of that tonight. In fact, I’ll put it all off longer than I should. I’ll wait ‘til they can’t even cry out “WATER!” anymore, and then I’ll let another day pass, probably, mostly because I’m busy and distracted and sometimes a bit lazy, and then I’ll finally get around to watering them. They'll live.

I need to pee.

So good night, pile of clean clothes on the couch, waiting and hoping I’ll actually fold you tomorrow. Good luck with that. Oh, who am I kidding? I’ll probably get to you. Ultimately, I must. That’s just the way. But I can’t piss myself. I need to go.