Day 20 - Don't Let the Bedbugs Bite!

Day 20: Knee still a bit pained at night, but significant improvement, as in pain much fainter and even quicker to fade in the morning.

Breakfast: 2 soft boiled eggs

Lunch: chicken and rice

Dinner: chicken, quinoa, spinach

I skipped the double-shot, since I had a Coke with lunch

Not a running day, but I did the stairs pretty much all day anyway. The knee was a little "full" here and there, a couple of twinges if I twisted it the wrong way, but otherwise, all right. Because "normal" motion isn't aggravating it and it is improving, I'm going to go on the hopeful assumption that something was momentarily swollen as opposed to actually injured.

But otherwise...there was the lovely discovery of a bedbug (literally) in one of my guy's homes. Even worse, it was an unfed nymph, which means there are more waiting to hatch out. The exterminator was quickly called, and hopefully the problem's resolved.

The work day ended on a frantic note - just the way most people expect to go into a three day weekend, right :-)?

Still though, it's the end of the week, not the beginning, and there's studio time, running, and family things to look forward to. All I need is for my knee to be 100% and it's all good!

Day 19 - Rain Rain All Dang Day

Day 19 - Thursday: Freakin' thunderstorms! Now, there's a difference between enjoying running outside in the rain, and running around when it's not necessary during a thunderstorm (hey, it's not a race day, and life and death are not involved. Getting myself sick or injured, however, for reasons other than that, is plainly stupid) and to compensate, I spent most of my work day walking flights instead of taking the elevator (since we're talking 5 or 7 flights UP as well as down, and figure I did the round trip a good 20 times, it's not a bad workout).

Ironically enough, it didn't rain while I was at work, it did pretty much as soon as I got home, so I was glad I'd had the prescience (and the ability) to work in something resembling compensatory.

Breakfast: 2 soft boiled eggs, orange juice

Lunch: pork fried rice & boneless spare ribs

Dinner: chicken, quinoa, & spinach

Yes-I-absolutely-positively-needed-my-espresso-double-shot!!!

Weight: 150

By the by, I not only knew it was going to rain, I could almost pinpoint the exact time. Why, you might wonder?

Remember the wonky knee? Not the one I'd originally injured, but the other, compensating one? Yeah. Hurts. Don't know why.

I found that while anticipating the rain (even on Wednesday, when the sun still shone), it began to hurt and swell. I left it alone, figuring that this will either resolve on its own, or not.

Overnight, well, it hurt, more than I thought it would, enough that certain movements would wake me. NOT COOL. Grabbed a pillow, slept with both legs slightly elevated (KNEE PAIN HINT: Don't just elevate your knee - get the pressure off it by having support running down to your ankle - and don't do just one leg! Do both, I don't know exactly why it works, but it feels much better with both elevated, than just the one. Probably because the way the hips twist and affect the spine or something like that).

By the morning, it hurt significantly less, and after the initial "do I have to get out of bed, really?" routine my body goes through, it was fine, even up & down the steps.

Still though, about an hour before it began to rain? Sharp, sudden pain, similar to what used to happen in the right knee, the pain that says: "Baby, it's gonna pour in under an hour - got an umbrella or a boat? You're gonna need it."

I wonder why the body does that - compensates a pain spot for weather warning. Hmmm... Maybe it's a primal survival thing. You know, as in, back when people lived in caves, if you had a boo boo and it began to ache, you knew to head for cover before flash floods and lightning got you, or that it was time to migrate before the snows or something.

It makes sense to me, anyway. And now that has me thinking (again, not for the first time), who invented bread? I mean, who got this great idea that if you mash this specific grain up, then mix it with water, then bake it, you could eat it? The SUMERIANS baked bread, I mean, we're talking knowing how to do this for a very long time!!!

I mean...what, did it happen like this: Were some Cro-Magnum people wandering around, hunting and gathering through the plains (let's call them Gar and Grr) and...

"Four foot thing I eat eats these leaves. I eat these leaves, too, no need to run after four foot, more time to spend sleeping and playing with self!" Grr thought. He picked a few grains. "Gar - come here! Eat this!"

Gar ate it and 20 minutes later puked.

"Gar, that was no good! Maybe...we try...wet stuff. We put in wet stuff next time!"

Gar groaned from his spot on the ground and seemingly agreed.

So...that's what they did.

"Funny sound, that make as you move it," Gar observed over Grr's shoulder. "It go "swish soak swish soak'."

"Done!" Grr pronounced. "Gar--eat this!"

Although Gar had a stomach ache, there was no puke. But oh, did he roll around on the dirt.

"Maybe, maybe make smaller next time," Grr considered. "Too big for body. "Hit with rocks, make smaller, more water go in when swish soak swish soak."

"That make sound like SMASH! SMASH!" Gar said from his spot on the dirt.

A little while later, Grr had some mushy stuff to share.

"Grr, that look like puke!!!" Grr told him. "Me make puke, me no eat puke--yuk!" and shoving it away, it fell with a glop noise, from Gar's hand onto a hot rock by their fire.

The puke looking stuff solidified.

Both stared.

Gar glanced at Grr, to find Grr staring thoughtfully back. "No way!" Gar insisted, "You get to puke, you get smelly waters from rear end!"

Gar gingerly picked it up, tossing it from one hand to another (since it was hot) and then...he bit. He chewed. He swallowed.

"Nice!" Gar said, chewing appreciatively.

"Me try, then!" Grr asked.

"All gone," Gar told him, having swallowed the last bite. "But...now we can make more--then we invent the village."

It could have gone down like that, right?

Day 18 - Hell Is...

as some dead French guy (or at least a dead European male) once said, "other people."

Today proved that in many ways.

Mind you, it's a rest day. No running. No real stretching. No yoga. No floor work.

Which I didn't mind, because my left knee's feeling a little...wonky. To be expected, sooner or later, because I'd really messed up the right one a few years ago (and the "rule of compensation" says that the healthy side suffers and gets messed up taking the load from the injured side). The right side, well, I had a few sharp spasms along the area where I'd torn the gastroc (same year as I screwed my knee), but otherwise, all is well.

What in the world do knees and Hell and other people have to do with anything?

Do I have a tale to tell!

One of the aspects of my job is that I take people on some pretty important medical appointments, the sort of things where diets and meds are decided, surgeries and treatments are pushed or discarded as options, basically, things that can really potentially alter life on a significant level.

Today's consult was at Bone & Joint in Manhattan. First...there was the ride in. Access-A-Ride. Access at your own risk. A coffee cup on wheels, a cockroach in a skin suit driving, faulty brakes and a homing device for every known bump in the road had my knees continuously slammed into the seat in front of me, and my ribs bounced, bruised, and jolted into the skinny pole things that pass for arm rests.

This...ride...took a little over an hour, since the cockroach didn't speak English and misunderstood the GPS. We took a lovely tour of Brooklyn...

Then, there was the clinic waiting room. Mind you, we get there two hours early just to sign in, so that when the docs (not the big kahuna himself - he's busy in surgery) actually see people, we'll be in the first half dozen or so.

The waiting room holds about 40. There were about 70. For the first time, people were actually talking with each other, and next thing I know, I'm looking at labs and bloods for various people, discussing their results, the critical role of water intake (especially with some of the meds some people are on), joint injuries and surgeries, and leading an impromptu lecture on the difference between replacement and resurfacing.

Since most of these people didn't realize there was a HUGE difference, and most were going for replacement, now, armed with knowledge, many of them are going to ask for resurfacing instead.

When asked what I did about my knee, I told the truth: two weeks before my scheduled surgery (not for replacement, but for removal of the cartilage. Which, by the way? Increases your chance of arthritis from the normal human range of 20-80% to a definite 90% or better - I really didn't want to do that!!!) I said: hey, try something alternative. Try acupuncture. Probably not going to do anything, but at least you tried, right?

So...I went in to the acupuncturist's office with a knee the size of a softball, a nasty hard lump (from effusion) on the outer side, and the usual pain. This had been going on for almost a year (I told you I wasn't in a rush for surgery!). Damn but if I didn't leave that office with the outlines of my knee clear for the first time in months, and the lump on the side reduced by almost two thirds!

A few more visits, and well...I can run, can't I? And without the pain I used to get. No scalpel, thank you very much.

Some of the people I told asked me for the number and address of the acupuncturist. Think there may be a few less surgeries!

An hour and twenty minutes after we get called into an exam room, an associate takes the x-rays I've carefully transported with us, as well as the labs and such, and finally does his job.

It's now time to go - or is it?

Yeah. No. We've a return trip scheduled, and we're 20 minutes early, so I grab us some dirty water dogs, and as each car comes, we ask if it's "ours."

Nope. Nope. Nope. We call. "5 minutes," we're told. Half an hour later. "5 minutes." Twenty minutes after that. "Oh, the driver said you were a no show."

Are you fucking kidding me??? Hey look, I understand this is an MRDD population as well as the frail and the disabled being serviced, but that doesn't mean you can fuck with them that way - and in fact, it made the cockroach from earlier upgrade to silverfish.

Bottom line: three and a half hours later, we got a ride home. Why didn't we do public trans? Because my guy's foot was swollen and aching from the exam and it would have been too far (and too painful) to walk the distance, the stairs, more distance again...you get the point.

The service was used for a very legitimate reason.

However, a driver from another vehicle came over to us (it was his return trip) because he remembered us from 2 hours earlier. He called his road supervisor, who came right over, and what a pair of nice guys! Between them both, they got us sorted on the soonest available vehicle - AND the driver was a real human being this time!

All right. I'll give it up. Hell IS other people, but sometimes, Heaven, or at least a slice of it, is other people, too.

Now I might actually get some rest...

Day 16 & 17 - Bitten

Mondays as a general rule are not a running day; they're for some yoga or stretching along those lines, and for rehearsal.

This Monday was no exception, except that since I knew the rehearsal would be a very physical thing (you'd be surprised, honestly), we got to that early, extended it past normal limits (it was highly, highly rewardingly productive - we've got the bones of a new song all sketched out!) and trust me when I say that even after it was time to stop, I was still jonesing for more.

Music's got me, that's for sure, but there are some days where I've got it much badder than others and yesterday was one of them. Playing, jumping, hopping and bopping definitely got my cardio going in a good way.

Tuesday's a running day - and so run I did.

Now, it's absolutely beautiful out, warm, sunny, bright, no humidity.

I set off to do my usual path.

Breakfast: tera chips and hummus, cran-pomegranate juice

Lunch: to be determined

Dinner: see above :-)

The one thing about the sun and the spring and the people playing and the dogs cavorting in the park is that it also seems to be a lovely time for bugs, as in the occasional cloud of gnats.

Now that I've swallowed a few, does that count as protein?

And...I finished my course in 14 minutes! That's 6 minutes faster than usual, and very unexpected, so I had to quickly course-correct (pun may be intended) and find another 6 minutes of path to use.

I'm feeling good for the rest of the day. I got some solid writing done, got a very good run in, and now I've got two things to think about: the rest of the lyrics for that song, and what my new running path is going to be :-)

Day 15 - Lost

Okay, so let's start with the fact that I got up waaaay later than I'd meant to.

Not that this was a bad thing - honestly, it was lovely; grey day, but not too cool nor too hot, light rain pattering out the window and a chorus of birds, all a wonderful orchestra while the most amazing person in the world slept peacefully next to me.

Breakfast became brunch, and caffeine was avoided (I do that every now and again) and the run -- as enjoyed as it is -- was not today's focus.

The season finale for "Lost" was.

And oh yay -- spent the time watching it. All I have to say is this:

It was incredible. It was confusing. It was thought-provoking. It was frustrating.

I might think about it during my next run, but more than likely, I'll focus on what I'm doing, while my "subconscious" mind takes a good look at the whole thing and sees what jives with ideas I have (about other things, including "electromagnetism") and what doesn't.

After all is said and done, I like having new questions to answer: it gives me new puzzles to play with. And sometimes, just sometimes, new ideas for new books :-)

Day 14 - Tweak the Tweak

Ok, so in the original schedule, Saturday was a rest day, it was tweaked to become a running day, but instead, it remained a "rest" day.

Why?

Whoa - busy, busy day, is why. One visit to the sick, one trip for a 3 year old's b'day party, and one guitar lesson to three very precious and adored younglings.

Of course, the usual "healthy foods" went out the window (after a protein breakfast, that is) but that's the price you pay when you carry said three year old around for several hours and attend their party.

Wouldn't have missed it - not a bit of it - for the world, twice over.

Besides, when else do I get to tweak my sibling about the fact that as much as she herself may have not wanted to be like me or my brother, her children take after one, the other, or both of us ? Ha ha, she's never gonna get away from us!

And...today...my oldest nephew (and her oldest child) very proudly took me by the hand and brought me to the mirror.

"Look at us!" he told me as he swept his hair the way I do then pulled my face closer to his. "I look just like you--cool, right?"

So I looked as he asked me to, and he was 100% on the money. "It's super cool," I agreed and hugged him.

"Mamama [that's what they call my mom, their grandmother] has to take our picture -- Mamama! Come take our picture!"

I laughed, and my mom, awesome as she is, did so.

"Next time, let's take another one with our guitars, ok?" he asked.

I know why he did.

See, we made a promise to each of those kids: at the age of 8, they receive their first guitar. It's acoustic, because that's the best way to start learning, but other than that, they get to pick whatever color and style they'd like.

My beloved, beloved nephew adamantly wanted the one that looks just like mine.

His mom told him about his aunt training for the triathlon and he's so excited, he wants to come bike riding with me. He will - not a long ride, but a small one, a fun one. And I'll bring him to the pool, too, since he asked so enthusiastically.

What the heck, right?

He may not directly be my son, but there is absolutely no mistaking that he is absolutely blood of my blood and bone of my bone.

I will take him running, I will teach him how to play, we will go out on bike rides (I gave him his first one, too ), and I will show him the difference between a dive and a racing start, and how to hold his breath through a flip turn.

Knowing just how much he looks to me as a role model in his life -- that was so very much worth spending the extra time with him and his brother and sisters and tweaking the tweak.

As important as the training has become, he--and the rest of my family--will always have a higher priority. And during tomorrow's run, I will focus, and I will push, and I will stretch myself, building from potential to actual.

And I will figure out how to teach that to those little ones.

Day 13 - No Ordinary Days

Today's not a running day, nor is it a rest day, either. It's supposed to be a yoga day, but honestly? I've kinda kicked it back a bit tonight: it's been a kinda "big" week in a lot of ways, with lots of lessons to incorporate, things accomplished, and new irons in new fires.

Heck, I've even started a few ;-)

It's good, it's all good and it occurs to me as I look back over the last almost two weeks, that not a single day has gone by where I haven't learned something, gained an insight, improved something - not only with aspects of my physicality, but in just about every other area, too.

That's a pretty amazing thing, the realization that there are no "ordinary" days, nor are there true "rest" days either, at least, not ones that have no growth, no insight, nor inspiration.

So tonight, it may seem like a "day off" but it's not: the schedule's been tweaked so that tomorrow is a running day (which makes tonight a "recovery" module) and while I've not run through a whole set of poses, I've run through some basics, done a few stretches, keeping everything limber and loose.

In just a few minutes, I'm gonna pull out my guitar and play and then...sometimes the insight is simply this: there doesn't have to be one every day. And that's all right. It's Friday night, I'm loose and ready to go wherever it takes me.

And I'm fine with that.

Day 12 - Show Me What You've Got

I've always been a respecter of technique and a supporter of passion. Combine the two and there's a magical uniqueness that happens in that marriage.

Technique without passion is mechanical, clinical, hits the right spots, but not the right notes, goes all the way, but doesn't satisfy.

Passion without the discipline of technique is sloppy, muddled, dangerous sometimes to itself and others. The moments of brilliance can't be sustained, and in the end, the same thing happens: no true satisfaction.

I had to stop by a store today to pick up a guitar (it's not one of mine, it's a gift for a very beloved youngling) and on the way out, stopped dead in my tracks: I'd seen a pod (it's an effect module for the guitar) that I've wanted for a while.

The owner saw my gaze, and next thing you know, we were discussing makes and models, then the conversation stripped down a bit more, to amps and tones, from clean to fuzz to mud, what we like, why we like it, the amps that do it for us and the amps that don't.

And then...we went from tone to bone: the axes we play. He put one guitar in my hand, then another. He watched me play, examined the angles I held my hands, my arms, my head at, the difference in all of those from sitting to standing. "You've got long arms--long legs, long arms."

"Yeah, but I've got a short torso," I said.

He shook his head. "You're fine - I was just noticing that you're not a six foot bass player, is all. Just means your guitar is gonna be different than someone elses, is all."

And we talked about "our sound," the way we each play. Like he said, it's not something that's handed to you in the store just before you walk out.

You spend hours, days, weeks, months, learning to play the basics, then months, years, taking them and shaping them into something. You expand your world, you change your amps, your rigs, your set ups, experiment with picks and finger tips, play with strings and pickups.

All of this is done so that one day, one fine day, you're able to turn around and say, "That's my style."

You wrestle and fight for it, slide, sweat, and bleed. There is frustration. There are flying towels, and even sometimes, a can or an ashtray. Your soul is pouring out from your fingertips, the tune in your head, and if it's not right, it's just not right.

What in the world does this have to do with running? Everything. Robyn Benincasa (who happens to be one of my personal heroes--and if you don't know who she is, find out, seriously!) once said, "Commitment starts when the fun stops."

Let me repeat that: commitment starts when the fun stops.

Passion gets you started, the spark that sets the flame to begin learning, and passion can carry you through the initial stages of learning technique.

But its commitment that marries those two, that permits the creation of "that's my style, my sound, my soul."

Breakfast: 2 soft boiled eggs, orange juice

Lunch: about 1/4 of a ham steak (hey, it's protein!)

Dinner: chicken with tomato, avocado, and lettuce.

The run started out uncomfortable; I don't know why exactly, but my feet and parts of my legs hurt--not bad enough to stop, but enough to notice. I figured it out a few seconds later: the soaking run from the other day had affected my sneakers.

Okay then - I could either stop, ruin the training module, and "fix" them (which would take more than a minute or two), or I could keep going and focus on something else. I did. Technique. I paid strong attention to my stride, to the way my foot would fall, and like guitar scales and drills, I did it over and over again.

For the first time since I've started, I hit 20 minutes not including warm up or cool down, as well as the two mile mark.

While I very clearly, happily, and proudly know what sort of musician I am, my style and my sound, I don't know what type of runner I'll be--yet. I do know this, though: I'm committed to seeing my passions through, and to do them right, I've got to perfect technique.

Day 11 - The Rest of It

Today's supposed to be a rest day, and it is, sort of. I don't run, don't do floor stretches or yoga. Instead, I wrote, I worked on some outstanding business issues, figured out some new lyrics and a riff, then went to the day job.

Honestly, not a bad day in terms of production.

At work...well, probably the two most interesting things involved two different coworkers.

Right before the class I teach started, the teacher from the previous class, well, I turned around, and she was in tears--they poured, rich and silent from her eyes.

I didn't think at all, I simply put my arms around her and asked her what was wrong.

She told me. Her sister had died, three weeks earlier and because she'd been having some serious health issues of her own, her doctor had not only ordered bed rest, but also her absence from the wakes and funerals, fearing her condition would rapidly worsen.

Her husband doesn't allow her to cry at home, tells her she should be over it. I asked one of my guys to bring her some cold water to drink, and bless them all-- they all brought one.

"I shouldn't be here," she cried. "I'm the oldest--it should have been me--I didn't get to say goodbye."

"It doesn't work like that," I told her very quietly. "And yes, you should be here."

"I know, I know," she said, "but I should be over this, I should get over it."

"Why?" I asked her. "It's your sister, you've known her for her whole life--sixty some odd years. Why would three weeks be enough?"

"But my husband says--"

"Ignore him--or kick him in the nuts next time, so he has something to cry over, too," I interrupted to suggest.

That got a smile out of her.

"My sister would like that."

I smiled back. "Well then, now you have an action plan."

She gave me another hug. "Thank you," she said. "And I'm sorry for falling apart like that."

I hugged her closely. "You're welcome--come look for me whenever you'd like. And don't apologize for being human, for having a heart. You love someone, and they're not here--your tears honor that."

"You think so?"

"I know so," I affirmed, and with that and one final hug, we each started our respective classes.

A few hours later, a coworker whom I rarely get to see came in for shift, and we got to talking about running, cycling, and swimming. Turns out, his bff rides for a (Name Company) team and that's all he does, but since he swims, too, he does biathlons and the occasional triathlon.

Boy did that conversation take off. See, a few weeks ago, just a few days before I decided I would do this crazy triathlon thing, I'd remembered something, something I'd forgotten:

When I did the AIDS Ride, I really fell in love not only with the idea of what we were doing (fund raising that really made a difference) but with my bike all over again (similar to the love affair I'd had as a young one, only much better. I mean, hey, I had an AWESOME bike and even cooler gear to go with it ).

I was taking a month off after that event, and was going to prepare to do a century (100 miles) in Tour de Tuscon, also as part of a fundraising event. I'd joined a team, and was quietly preparing my mind to do something really insane, something that the person who coordinated the NY people for the AIDS Ride does: do this for a living.

I mean, hey, how cooler could you get, right? I mean, ride a bike, help people, and make a living? Sign me up! (Actually, I was already kinda signing up).

But then...Sept. 11th happened, and it blew the entire world literally and figuratively to shreds. And I'd forgotten all about that. But like I said, suddenly, just before doing this crazy triathlon thing, I REMEMBERED.

And tonight...well, let's just say this: the (Name Company) has two teams, an amateur and a pro. They take their pros from the amateur, and they train locally, race internationally.

My co-worker is gonna hook me up with his bff, and we're already talking riding routes to train (since he's thinking of going for the amateur team); the first thing he's sending me is a list of races in the area to look at & prep for. Oh...and the team? Might be looking for a few new members. Maybe. Kinda sorta. Depends on performance and all of that.

Can you say "psyched?" Because week after next...starts the cycling module :-)

Day 10 - Running With the Fae

Because of my strange work schedule, I knew that I wouldn't be able to run in the evening and would have to go earlier in the day.

Frankly, I didn't mind this at all, because at the time, while it was wet out, it wasn't pouring. Heavier than mist, but lighter than a down pour, a compromise between. I like that, because I like the way it physically feels to move in that. Besides, the event itself has no rain-date, and so I figured, no harm, no foul.

Now, being a New Yorker, I let someone know I was going out to run the minute I hit the sidewalk, then I entered the park. Just as I was about to begin my warm up, it struck me: there wasn't another single soul around. Not a one. Not anywhere. Being a TRUE New Yorker, I called another friend and basically said, "Hey, I'm going for a run in such and such place. If you don't hear from me by X time, come look for me--I'm hurt."

The basics taken care of, I warmed up and took off.

Breakfast/Lunch: left-over rice and roast pork, cran-pomegranate juice.

Dinner: rice pasta with gluten-free sausage

Treat: Tall skim no whip white mocha and 2 dark chocolate-covered graham crackers (hey, it was COLD later!)

The park was absolutely beautiful and as I ran through my module, I chose a path that would take me along the lake, so I could really enjoy the hills on one side, and the water on the other, making certain I'd take no grass nor mud paths--the rain would make those ways treacherous.

Not even a quarter way into the session, I was absolutely soaked, and ever so slightly cool. Fine though. Gray light brought the green and the flowers out in sharp relief and as I breathed deeply of the lake and soil-scented air I noticed how similar blackberry blossoms are to certain type of cherry blossoms. At different points as the terrain rolled by me, I wished I had a camera or video equipment to somehow capture some of the incredibleness I witnessed. I had all of it to myself, and I wanted to share it.

Unless you've actually been there, most people don't know how much parts of New York look like Scotland, and even in a sculpted/sculptured park, because of the mist, the air, even the shades of green, I was struck hard by the similarities. This of course, made me think of stories and legends, history and myth; the richness of Celtic culture that I've always so enjoyed.

I neared the bridge, looking forward to crossing it during its mystic best. Gulls occasionally flew over head and as I glanced on occasions at the water on either side, I could see huge "surfacing" type rings and glass spots, the smallest 12 feet across, the largest about 21. But nothing actually surfaced, and since the lake is actually a reservoir, more than likely it was either the fans pushing or pumping water in exchange.

Across the bridge, there's a bit of path before it ends at a road. Now, there was no one in the park, but there were still occasional cars on the road. I debated: turn around at the road itself, follow the path I'd first taken a few days ago that follows the road, or just before emerging through the path, turn around and take another variation.

Well, frankly, remember how I said I was a real New Yorker? Okay, this is what I thought: There was absolutely NO ONE in the park, but there were people on the road. Emerging even near the road, what if a car happened to drive by and it so happened that there was a twisted person who figured, "Hey, look! Lone jogger! I can practice my new serial killer technique!" So I turned around at a point before I could be seen from the road.

Which meant I'd go back over the bridge. For some reason, as I watched the "rising" rings in the water, the rising that normally means something will breach, but never did, I thought about the first "grown up" book I read when I was in the third grade: Jaws. It opens with a swimmer who goes out in the middle of the night into the water and basically gets eaten by this efficient, silent, predator. No one knew what had happened to the anonymous girl that opened that book. And then I thought about Patricia Brigg's work, and her incorporation of the Fae (aka fairies) into "our" world, and how they're mostly not that nice, and in fact mostly dangerous and when they do things, well, they do it where it can't be seen.

I thought about her last book, that had a bridge troll in it, and how in the middle of the bridge itself there are two small towers on either side, almost like a toll point. That, I thought to myself, is exactly the sort of place that those trolls would hang. If you can't pay them, they eat you. And of course, the best time and place to do it is when there's no one around. How can anyone possibly really believe fae exist if no one ever sees them, right?

At this point, those rising rings got bigger. Remember how I run 60 walk 90?

48, 49, 50, and I'd hit the walking part just before I hit those pillars. I know you're not supposed to run from an immortal - it only catches their attention. But I was running already, so...

56, 57, 58...and the water, which had been silent before, slapped really hard against the rocks.

63, 64, 65, and I was at the exact halfway point. 66, 67, 68 and I had past it.

75, 76, 77, and I told myself, Jae, there's nothing there, just look behind you and see, but just as my gaze hit my shoulder, another voice jumped in. "Hey, don't do that--that's when it EATS YOU!"

112, 113, 114 and I blew out the module for that section. At 120, I knew I'd have to walk 180 for a proper recovery, and I realized a few things.

One: I'm not doing that again. If I'm running alone, I'm going out way earlier when there are people around and walking their dogs.

Two: It doesn't matter if there was something there or not, because Lord, when it comes to sprint, I've still got it, and I'm building it even further.

Three: This is the most important part. It's true: when you're doing your flat out strongest effort and you look behind you, the monster gets you. Why? Because you've slowed down, because as you twist your head, you twist your body and you not only change the position of your foot fall, you're no longer can see where you're going. The result: eaten or injury. Either way, progress is not only slowed, it's halted, possibly permanently, depending on severity.

In the end, all it is is fear chasing you, fear that will halt you, stop you, trip you, hurt you, eat you. Fear. False Evidence Appearing Real.

And you know what? This doesn't just apply to racing, whether it's running, cycling, or swimming. So...I've learned something and in keeping with true fae tradition, it took a bit of physical price. In the end, no harm, no foul, and a...lesson...I had to search within to really get.

Why not call it something else (like...something resembling those things people open at birthdays or holidays)? Here's the thing: you should never thank the fae, not ever, not at all. You'll owe them, and they will collect. Guaranteed, it will be much more than you're willing to pay, and fear takes the highest toll of all.

Day 9 - Monday, Monday

I admit, whole heartedly, that I am absolutely positively NOT anything CLOSE to being a fan of Mondays, not unless they're holidays.

Not that I'm knocking the pleasure and privilege of being alive, mind you, it's just that I really hate being ripped out of the cozy embrace that is my family and my bed, and being thrust once more, cold and alone, into what's sometimes a truly inhospitable environment.

It's a lot like being born, ain't it?

Sure, an hour, maybe two, sometimes it takes as many as eight later, I'm in a good mood, but that's only because a) I'm eventually going back to my family and my home and b) Monday's a rehearsal night. Unfortunately, it's not a running night, and that's really and truly now the sad part of the day. Funny how that happened...but I've really come to crave it. But hey, that's what tomorrow's for!

Breakfast: 2 soft boiled eggs, a pint of cranberry juice (and I tend to stick to Ocean Spray, since they don't use high fructose corn syrup - I'm not supposed to eat corn, and besides, studies show that this particular type of sugar is insulin insensitive, which means diabetes is around the corner, as is obesity. No, thanks).

Lunch: an expensive yet pathetic excuse for a salad (two slices of cucumber and two slices of tomato over half a head of what's probably iceberg lettuce) with hummus.

Lunch 2: roast pork, rice, very small amount of plantains.

Dinner: more of lunch 2

Weight: 151.1 lbs. Remember how I said I expected to gain? I suspect I'll strip down a bit first as it all burns, then the numbers will probably creep up again as I build.

So...through the opening poses to the more specific ones, stretch and hold, burn and bend, sinking sinking through it all...and then it was time to rehearse.

During the yoga session itself, I thought about last week and the gains within the family on that weekend, I thought not about work, but the loss of that gentle man. I reflected on the things I've learned about health, self, and life in general. I thought about the work I'm doing with the new writing, the strange, exciting and scary path everything seems to be going in, all at the same time, and so much of it wonderful.

One thought, one feeling overrode them all: I love my family. The ones who've been there since before I can remember, the ones I've grown with, the ones who've been introduced over the years, the ones recently met and the ones yet to become a part of my life, of our life. I love them, and I'm held so very securely by their love for me. What an amazing, miraculous, beautiful thing. And my friends...I hold them just as dear, just as close and precious. And I can absolutely feel that close regard in return.

And then...there was music, and there was flow. My heart beat. My breath sustained, two half notes over its quarter note/four beat/single measure.

I brought that rhythm into rehearsal, the beat of my heart, the flow of my breath, the feelings that fill and filled me. I wish that love--I want to share that love--with everyone.

Namaste.

Day 8 - Sun Block

I tend to prefer to run in the early evening; the shifting lighting suits me as does the fact that most of the people you encounter then are running, too (or playing in the dog run with their pups).

But Shane convinced me to go out earlier today, since it was so beautiful out.

I did.

Breakfast: A banana and cranberry/pomegranate juice

Lunch: Apples, grapes, and a double shot (yes, I had a double shot as part of lunch)

Dinner: Chicken & stir-fry steak w/terra chips & spinach

I continued working the module, knowing I'll be working it for another week. Now the thing is, it truly was gorgeous out - perfect temperature, perfect humidity (as in none), perfect sunny day. And of course, the moment I hit the park, I realized I'd forgotten something: sun block. See, thing is, I may not be blonde or blue eyed, but frankly, I'm pretty fair skinned, and I burn baby burn before I tan.

Turning back and correcting that wasn't an option, since there were some afternoon obligations.

So...I focused. I stretched. I ran through light and shade, over grass and gravel, water and cement. Since I was running at a different time of day, I decided to vary my route just a bit.

And...because the form I've been focusing in is now a part of my "habitual" reminders while running, I decided to pay attention this go-round to approximate distance.

Now, the path around the park (the outer circle, not including the inner meandering paths) is about 1.5 miles. Generally speaking, I've been doing about two thirds one way, then two thirds back, which isn't bad, since it gives me about a mile.

Today, I know I did a bit over three quarters each way, giving me approximately a mile and half. I hit 17 minutes in total training time, not including the warm up nor the cool down.

I managed not to knock over any children on bicycles, trip over dogs, or crash into folk taking their "constitutional."

I do, however, have a few freckles I didn't have this morning, pink spots on my arms that itch, and a pink nose. Guess what I'm not forgetting on Day 10?

Day 7 - And On the Seventh Day

...God rested.

I didn't. The schedule/module I'm working with means today was a day off.

Hardly.

Originally, I was supposed to spend the morning into the afternoon working on a new writing project, the afternoon introducing one of our nieces to her new guitar (it's a tradition: on the 8th birthday, each kid gets a guitar, and lessons, too), with the later evening seeing us in the studio.

You know the saying, men plan and God laughs? Well, there must have been some chuckles coming from above, because a snafu at work just as I'd started to get into flow meant I'd lose a few hours not only from the writing, but then from enjoying the musical introduction.

Still though...the guitar was given (and much joy was had by all of us - just so much love shared, it's amazing how big the hearts are of little people!). We walked into the studio filled with the excitement and anticipation not only of what we're creating, but also for our niece's focused enthusiasm, and her siblings' excitement for her. The older ones (who already have guitars) greatly like and enjoy music, but this one...she's got that look in her eye, the same one I see in the mirror.

And when we left the studio, talking about what we'd done and what we plan to do, we also discussed tomorrow's run: when, where, how, and why.

I'm greatly looking forward to both of us getting out there tomorrow, getting on the path, and working on all the things I want to: form, distance, breath, time, all the things that matter in this, and it occurs to me: in so many ways, it's absolutely no different than being a musician, than being in a band. Focus, form, breath, time. It's all there, even the individual training/practice, that comes together different times during the week, each of us bringing the different things we've learned, mastered, and accomplished to the joint sessions.

Side note: this is the first time I've left a rehearsal where I didn't have a sore neck and shoulders from the weight of my guitar -- I might not have run today, but I certainly brought the great effects from it with me to the studio!