Sunday, January 1, 2012
1:25pm
As the title suggests, this post is simply about another week in fitness. I did pretty much the same thing this week as last week, except that I am taking my rest day today (although the idea of sitting still all day with nowhere to go and no real physical activity seems a bit overwhelming at the moment, so there is a good possibility of a walk or some yoga) instead of having taken it on Friday.
Monday- 5-8´s: About an 80-minute workout of lifting heavy (for me) weights for 5 sets of 8 for each muscle group. Abs included.
Tuesday- 60 minute run outside. Ran all the way up Río Esgueva to where you can see the big mountain in the background. I ran a little farther this week in my 60 minutes outside than last week, so I can feel myself getting stronger.
Wednesday- 32-minute recovery run. Slow speed. Short distance. Aim was just to bring fresh blood into muscles needing to repair themselves after Monday´s lifting and Tuesday´s long distance run. Did some abs at home afterwards.
Thursday- 3-12´s: About a 70-minute workout coming at each muscle group with 3 sets of 12 repetitions. Slightly easier than the workout on Monday. After resistance, did 4 sets of 2 minutes walking, 1 minute sprinting on the treadmill. Felt stronger than last week, like I could have done those sprints faster, but since I was still adjusting to a new routine, I decided to leave it.
Friday- 60-minute run on treadmill. I was actually thinking about making this just a 20-minute jog and then going to batuka, but then I decided to stay on and finish. So... it wound up being a more intense run than I was planning, because when I was originally planning to do only 20 minutes, I ran really hard to make up for it. Again, feeling stronger with my runs all this week.
Saturday- 35-minute recovery run on treadmill, 5 minutes walking to cool down. Felt tired, but that was due to going to bed at 6am and rising at 12pm. Plus, I drank a fair amount of beer the night before at a party, not enough to make me sick or even drunk, but enough to make me feel a little more groggy than usual the next day. Did abs, traps, and external rotators afterwards.
So I had 5 days that had some type of cardio, 4 that were aimed at aerobic activity, 2 of those aimed at improving it over maintaining it. One day was cardio but no aerobic, aimed at building speed.
I had 2 days aimed at building strength.
So for the most of this week I´ve felt really strong and like I could do more in my workouts. The thing is, I´m focusing on a few different things right now- speed on Thursdays, endurance on Tuesdays and Fridays (or Saturdays), and strength on Mondays and Thursdays. So if I try to make improvements to all of these at once, it´s a recipe for disaster, because there will never be a single day in the week that my body is doing what it already can. Each day will push it beyond it´s limits, and that can just lead to burn out and injury. I have to ask myself, where do I most want to make my gains? Strength, speed, or endurance? I want to say ALL OF THEM! I want to run further on my distance runs, faster on my speed drills, and I want to do more lifting. Maybe I´ll make a compromise and split it between two categories. Strength and endurance. For strength, I will *either* add a pump/burn out set on one of my lift days *or* add some strength training at the end of my recovery run on Saturday. And for endurance, I will make one of my long runs this week 65 minutes instead of 60. Little by little.
Sunday, January 29, 2012
Sunday, January 22, 2012
A Week in Fitness
This post is much more for helping myself than it is for expressing any ideas which might be remotely useful to someone else. That said... if I accidentally say something helpful, that would be cool. I´m writing to recount my week in fitness, as I´d decided I´d get more regulated and routine about my fitness upon my return to Spain. That isn´t to say that I wasn´t exercising regularly already, just... not with the same discipline as, ¨I need to get x number of cardio workouts in per week at a certain intensity and for a certain length, and I need to do resistance training x number of times per week.¨ I am recording this week´s and using it for an example, because I feel that it went pretty well.
Monday- Heavy lift, 5-8´s, 75 minutes
Tuesday- 60 minute run, outside, abs at home
Wednesday- 40 minute recovery run, abs at home
Thursday- Moderate lift, 3-12´s, plus sprints, 60 minutes
Friday- rest
Saturday- 60 minute run on treadmill
Sunday- 30 minute run on treadmill, plus light abs, traps, and erector spinae
In review with analysis: I feel this was almost perfect. As far as lifting goes, I did a full body workout twice this week, one day more targeted at raw strength, one day more aimed towards maintaining strength over multiple repetitions. I feel that this is adequate to meet my goals. With the intensity to which I pushed myself, twice a week is sufficient. I want to be strong, but a body builder, so I think this is good. In regards to cardio, minus the walking I did around town (maybe Friday shouldn´t actually be listed as a rest day), it was exclusively running. I miss Zumba. I like to swim. But having one goal, improving speed over time gives me focus in my workouts. My goals is to run a few 10Ks this summer and ¨do my best.¨ That sounds like a wishy-washy goal, but I hate to have a goal time, because every course is different. That hell I endured on the steep, rocky footpaths in Coopers Rock last summer is sure to be different than a completely flat street race. So ¨my best¨ sounds like a good goal to me. I know I push myself hard no matter what and don´t need the added discipline of a ticking clock. So I had two long run days to build endurance, and I think I´ll stick with 2 1-hour runs per week as my hard days for 4-6 weeks, to give the body time to adjust. I never want to be a marathoner, so there is no reason to push myself beyond that time capacity sooner than that. You don´t want to go into a race not having run about 30% further than that distance at some point, so to do a 10K, I should have run 75-80 minutes straight a few times before I actually do it. And when I make my increases, it will be gradual. Two weeks at 65 minutes on one day, 60 the other, 70 and 60, and so on. No need for an injury. I took the recovery runs seriously this week, running easy on my two recovery days to get blood flow to the recovering muscles without placing excessive demands on them. These days weren´t aimed at calorie burn, strength increase, or improving my cardiovascular capacity beyond what it already was. Recovery. Plain and simple. And one day, my 3-12s with weights, I did sprints on the treadmill. For me, speed and strength on the race course is my biggest challenge. I´m a deer. I can run forever and sort of float along, but if I needed to kick it in, that´s tougher. That´s simple to tell by looking at me. Long limbed, meaning short muscle bellies (less power) in comparison to bone length. So by sprints what I mean is, I would walk, just... walk, 2 minutes on the treadmill and then sprint 1. I did this for 12 minutes, completing 4 sets. It seemed appropriate on a strength day, because even though it isn´t ¨resistance,¨ it has a similar training effect on the legs to do that kind of work because you use them powerfully instead of steadily. Anaerobic. Also good for a fat burning and cardio burst at the end of my workout.
I have also been good about stretching at the ends of my workouts more consistently and for longer periods of time. Not that 2 minutes all over wiggle and out the door. I *should* be doing some yoga, for the stretch and the calm more than the strength. I think I do enough strength training (although, yeah, I realize it´s a different type). But it´s harder than ever for me to have that quiet reflection time, so I flip and want off the mat. I try to make up for the lack of yoga in my life by doing more extended stretching and having more ¨active¨ reflective periods, like listening to music while drawing or writing. Asking myself to be on that mat for more than five minutes is just asking to much at this point. I need a teacher. Or I need to be teaching. I need to either be hearing someone else´s voice and having a new objective every few minutes to keep me focused and in the moment, or else be focused on getting everyone else through an hour. I get more out of it when I have a teacher, so that´s what I want right now. In lieu of that, I´m letting go of the self-judgment, and trying to make up for the benefits of yoga in other ways like I mentioned above.
I´m eating healthy, taking my vitamin, drinking plenty of water, not overdoing the caffeine, and sleeping well. So even minus the yoga, I´d say I´m doing OK for now. I´m happy with where I´m at in terms of my active, healthy lifestyle.
Monday- Heavy lift, 5-8´s, 75 minutes
Tuesday- 60 minute run, outside, abs at home
Wednesday- 40 minute recovery run, abs at home
Thursday- Moderate lift, 3-12´s, plus sprints, 60 minutes
Friday- rest
Saturday- 60 minute run on treadmill
Sunday- 30 minute run on treadmill, plus light abs, traps, and erector spinae
In review with analysis: I feel this was almost perfect. As far as lifting goes, I did a full body workout twice this week, one day more targeted at raw strength, one day more aimed towards maintaining strength over multiple repetitions. I feel that this is adequate to meet my goals. With the intensity to which I pushed myself, twice a week is sufficient. I want to be strong, but a body builder, so I think this is good. In regards to cardio, minus the walking I did around town (maybe Friday shouldn´t actually be listed as a rest day), it was exclusively running. I miss Zumba. I like to swim. But having one goal, improving speed over time gives me focus in my workouts. My goals is to run a few 10Ks this summer and ¨do my best.¨ That sounds like a wishy-washy goal, but I hate to have a goal time, because every course is different. That hell I endured on the steep, rocky footpaths in Coopers Rock last summer is sure to be different than a completely flat street race. So ¨my best¨ sounds like a good goal to me. I know I push myself hard no matter what and don´t need the added discipline of a ticking clock. So I had two long run days to build endurance, and I think I´ll stick with 2 1-hour runs per week as my hard days for 4-6 weeks, to give the body time to adjust. I never want to be a marathoner, so there is no reason to push myself beyond that time capacity sooner than that. You don´t want to go into a race not having run about 30% further than that distance at some point, so to do a 10K, I should have run 75-80 minutes straight a few times before I actually do it. And when I make my increases, it will be gradual. Two weeks at 65 minutes on one day, 60 the other, 70 and 60, and so on. No need for an injury. I took the recovery runs seriously this week, running easy on my two recovery days to get blood flow to the recovering muscles without placing excessive demands on them. These days weren´t aimed at calorie burn, strength increase, or improving my cardiovascular capacity beyond what it already was. Recovery. Plain and simple. And one day, my 3-12s with weights, I did sprints on the treadmill. For me, speed and strength on the race course is my biggest challenge. I´m a deer. I can run forever and sort of float along, but if I needed to kick it in, that´s tougher. That´s simple to tell by looking at me. Long limbed, meaning short muscle bellies (less power) in comparison to bone length. So by sprints what I mean is, I would walk, just... walk, 2 minutes on the treadmill and then sprint 1. I did this for 12 minutes, completing 4 sets. It seemed appropriate on a strength day, because even though it isn´t ¨resistance,¨ it has a similar training effect on the legs to do that kind of work because you use them powerfully instead of steadily. Anaerobic. Also good for a fat burning and cardio burst at the end of my workout.
I have also been good about stretching at the ends of my workouts more consistently and for longer periods of time. Not that 2 minutes all over wiggle and out the door. I *should* be doing some yoga, for the stretch and the calm more than the strength. I think I do enough strength training (although, yeah, I realize it´s a different type). But it´s harder than ever for me to have that quiet reflection time, so I flip and want off the mat. I try to make up for the lack of yoga in my life by doing more extended stretching and having more ¨active¨ reflective periods, like listening to music while drawing or writing. Asking myself to be on that mat for more than five minutes is just asking to much at this point. I need a teacher. Or I need to be teaching. I need to either be hearing someone else´s voice and having a new objective every few minutes to keep me focused and in the moment, or else be focused on getting everyone else through an hour. I get more out of it when I have a teacher, so that´s what I want right now. In lieu of that, I´m letting go of the self-judgment, and trying to make up for the benefits of yoga in other ways like I mentioned above.
I´m eating healthy, taking my vitamin, drinking plenty of water, not overdoing the caffeine, and sleeping well. So even minus the yoga, I´d say I´m doing OK for now. I´m happy with where I´m at in terms of my active, healthy lifestyle.
Monday, January 16, 2012
Asian chicken
OK. Mostly because I don´t want to forget this recipe, but also a little bit just because I am excited about the food. To deal with boredom and a case of the blah´s, I decided I needed to try out some new recipes to keep me interested. Food always calls me back to life in a way that hugs never can.
Anyway, so I found this recipe online called Mama´s Asian chicken. I´d link it here, but all I did was read it once and then make it however I wanted. Cooked some white rice. Put the following in a frying pan:
2 tbsp Heinz 57
3 tbsp soy sauce
2 crushed, minced garlic cloves
1/5 (ish) an onion, minced
¨some¨ crushed red pepper mix (or the closest thing I found to it here in Spain)
2 tbsp OrAnGe JuIcE (dont be afraid, i really think this is what made it)
¨some¨ olive oil
Sauteed that together
Then I cut up a little over a pound of chicken... recipe called for chicken breast, but it turned out just fine with thigh meat and was cheaper (more fattening, yes, but stfu.) Sauteed it all together for awhile... I think the recommendation for stir frying diced chicken is 7-8 minutes but due to my extreme paranoia over undercooked meat, I usually go for about double the time. Took 10 very long sugar snap peas (so probably need about 15 of what we have back home), cut them up into generous chunks, and fried that, too. Works better for the peas if covered, because they tend to remain tough. I didn´t have an adequate cover, so I just made an enormous mess by using a lid that was too small (and sitting it on the counter to stir every so often). Just goes to show you can use whatever you have around. Anyway, by belly is full. I fed my roommate. And now I´m going to bed fat and happy.
Oh yeah, and ObViOuSlY... to serve, put some rice on your plate and bathe it in the chicken/oil/flavory goodness/peas slop.
Anyway, so I found this recipe online called Mama´s Asian chicken. I´d link it here, but all I did was read it once and then make it however I wanted. Cooked some white rice. Put the following in a frying pan:
2 tbsp Heinz 57
3 tbsp soy sauce
2 crushed, minced garlic cloves
1/5 (ish) an onion, minced
¨some¨ crushed red pepper mix (or the closest thing I found to it here in Spain)
2 tbsp OrAnGe JuIcE (dont be afraid, i really think this is what made it)
¨some¨ olive oil
Sauteed that together
Then I cut up a little over a pound of chicken... recipe called for chicken breast, but it turned out just fine with thigh meat and was cheaper (more fattening, yes, but stfu.) Sauteed it all together for awhile... I think the recommendation for stir frying diced chicken is 7-8 minutes but due to my extreme paranoia over undercooked meat, I usually go for about double the time. Took 10 very long sugar snap peas (so probably need about 15 of what we have back home), cut them up into generous chunks, and fried that, too. Works better for the peas if covered, because they tend to remain tough. I didn´t have an adequate cover, so I just made an enormous mess by using a lid that was too small (and sitting it on the counter to stir every so often). Just goes to show you can use whatever you have around. Anyway, by belly is full. I fed my roommate. And now I´m going to bed fat and happy.
Oh yeah, and ObViOuSlY... to serve, put some rice on your plate and bathe it in the chicken/oil/flavory goodness/peas slop.
London Trip (Warning, this contains graphic language)
10:50pm... Valladolid airport
Clearly this is going to be an epic journey of hell, so I thought I should start chronicling it now. Our plane didn´t show up to Valladolid, and now we are sitting on a bus getting ready to depart for Santander... four f------ hours away to catch our plane to London. We´re hearing that it´s due to the fog that we have to go to Santander. My guess is the pilot was too drunk to make it or that there was a problem with the original plane they don´t want to admit to. Anyway, let´s back this up a little bit.
Last two nights I´ve slept like awful. So, knowing that I was bound for London today, I decided to pop an ativan for sleeping last night. It worked too well. I didn´t hear my alarm clock go off this morning... or aLEKS (i have no idea why im suddenly stuck in all caps right now... my computer seems to have just had an aneurysm. Fu----- beautiful. That is what i need on the way to santander on a four hour bus ride when i should landing in london in 15 minutes... f------ ryanair.) was calling me from the damn taxi downstairs. Ughh.... so i got up, completely panicked, threw a bunch of shit in a carry on (of course i forgot to pack underwear... contemplating whether i want to buy some new ones or just go commando all throughout my time in london...) and sprinted out to the taxi. For those who know me, you know it is impossible for me to function without coffee. So multiply that by about a million since im naturally a disorganized mess and was still processing a sedative out of my system. (I also realize i didnt pack a razor (and i need to shave), toothpaste, deodorant, or birth control pills... got my multivitamin though, dag gummit) Also, i didnt brush my hair, which also needs to be washed. I just put on an ecuadorian tobogan and went for it.
Fortunately, aleks was all chill and forgiving in the taxi. We got to the airport WITH NOT A LOT OF EXTRA TIME TO WASTE, BUT WE GOT OUR PASSPORTS STAMPED AND HEADED FOR SECURITY. GOING THROUGH SECURITY WAS JUST FANTASTIC. HAD TO TAKE OfF MY ECUADOR HAT. AND MY VERY SHORT HAIR WAS STICKING OUT IN SO MANY DIRECTIONS, INTERESTINGLY FRAMING MY UNWASHED FACE. I JUST DIDNT MAKE EYE CONTACT WITH ANYONE (AND TRIED NOT TO BREATHE IN ANYONES FACE WITH MY UNSCRUBBED CHOMPERS) AND GOT THROUGH IT. LEARNED THAT VALLADOLID AIRPORT SECURITY IS SHIT. SUPPOSED TO TAKE OUT PHONES BEFORE GOING THROUGH, MOST AIRPORTS WOULD STOP YOU IF YOU FAILED TO REMOVE IT FROM YOUR BAG, TO PROVE IT ISNT A BOMB. I THOUGHT ID FORGOTTEN MY PHONE AT HOME SO DIDNT TAKE IT OUT AND GOT THROUGH SECURITY JUST FINE. THEN THERES ANOTHER PASSPORT GUY, AND EVEN THOUGH I GOT BACK INTO THIS COUNTRY ON AN *EXPIRED VISA*, IN BUSTLING BARCELONA, IN VALLADOLID, THEY INSISTED ON SEEING MY RESIDENCY CARD BEFORE LETTING ME FLY OUT. NOT that THEY ACTUALLY LET US FLY OUT ANYWAY, OR I WOULDNT BE WRITING THIS. SO ABOUT 150 OF US ARE STANDING IN LINE IN THE ONLY BOARDING ROOM IN THE WHOLE AIRPORT AND SOME GARBLED ANNOUNCEMENT COMES ON. I UNDERSTAND NOTHING, BUT I HEAR PPL SAYING... BLAH BLAH BLAH AUTOBUS, JODER, AUTOBUS. THIS DOESNT SOUND GOOD SO I ASK THE DUDE IN FRONT OF US, AND HE EXPLAINS. WE ARE ALL LIKE "·$=)%?·$)!·="·$$%)·$%)))·$%.
AFTER WE WAIT 15 MINUTES AND THE BUS STILL ISNT THERE WE DECIDE... OK, FOOD. OBVIOUSLY NOTHING MATTERS ANYWAY. SO WE HAVE BREAKFAST BAGUETTES IN THE AIRPORT CAFETERIA AND EVENTUALLY THE FIRST BUS COMES. WE HEAD OUT, PUT OUR LUGGAGE ON DECK, AND THEN ARE TOLD TO REMOVE IT BECAUSE THE BUS IS FULL. OH ASS AND TITTIES!!! SO WE SPEND ANOTHER TEN MINUTES IN THE COLD WAITING FOR THE NEXT BUS. SECOND OUT OF 3 OR 4. IM PARANOICALLY STRADDLING MY SUITCASE WITH MY CALVES, HUGGING IT WITH MY LEGS TO TRY TO KEEP MY LAPTOP WARM... AND THEN THE BUS IS THERE AND ITS A DAMN STAMPEDE. IM CHEWING MY GLOVES OFF, STRUGGLING TO PULL MY COMPUTER, BOARDING PASS, AND PASSPORT FROM MY SUITCase, all while being trampled by 100 other angry ryanair customers. Getting onto the bus was like... a blood clot in a plaque filled, athersclerosis-siezed blood vessel- We all rushed the door at the same time. Everyone wanted to slit everyone elses throat, and there was just a lot of shoving. I am claustrophobic, and i particularly hate taking elbows to the boob, (which happens frequently in large crowds due to my height in comparison to the height of the average elbow when it is reaching about frantically) so that was an overall unpleasant experience.
Finally, we are on a bus. I have no idea how this is going to work in santander. I just want some underwear.
Finally we are on the plane. Got to santander in about 3.5 hours. Not bad except for the part where i should already be riding the london eye. Whatever. I saw some pretty mountains on the way hear. Apparently our bus driver was a light rock fan. He was playing it pretty loud, and since i was playing solitaire on my computer, an angry spanish woman to my left thought it was me who was playing the annoying music. She asked me to turn it down in that feigned politeness people use when they want a stranger to do something for them. I informed her it wasnt my music, and we went along listening.
In santander today its about 21º celsius, so my double layered columbia jacket and my ecuador hat were a bit much. Even when we got to santander, our plane wasnt here. I asked aleks, where is the plane?! She replied, oh there is no plane. Now people are stowing their bags in the overhead cabin storage, and the flight staff are being all like, please stow your luggage and take an empty seat as quickly as possible... as if as quickly as possible is really their motto around here. Aleks has filled me with a dreadful thought, so does this plane even work? Oh my, i am not sure if it does or not. Fortunately, all this excessive jet setting lately has worked to ease my once extreme flight anxiety. Now i just pretend to have flight anxiety and use the prescribed ativan for sleeping medication. F--k it. And here we go. Better turn this thing off until we have reached a ¨safe altitude to use approved electronic devices.¨
Well, that´s what I wrote on the way to London. It is now Monday evening, about 8pm, and I´m reporting the rest of the trip. London is altogether a very cool city. I would like to have more time to spend there getting to know the ins and outs of it. The first night, Aleks and I went to the King´s Cross Social Club, a cute little pub very close to the hostel. I ordered a beer right away, London Pale Ale. Well, it was a good beer, but I felt my wallet was completely raped at 4.20 pounds (a pound is worth 1.7 USD) for a pint. After that, we switched to wine, split a bottle of red. Some guys included us in their round of jager bombs shortly thereafter, and... they weren´t trying to get in our pants,lol... The one wanted dating advice about some woman he claimed to love after spending about 8 hours with her. Anyway, it was an interesting evening, nice to be able to converse freely with people without the worry of the language barrier. Plus, I feel like people there were more willing to come up and be social with us than here in Valladolid. So it was nice, and after the drinks and the long day of travel, we slept quite well. I got up for the free breakfast the following morning at the hostel. Then we were off to see the sights. We saw Big Ben, the London Eye (which was, tragically, not working, so I didn´t get to go up), Aleks got a tattoo (I wanted one, but not for an 80pound minimum when it´s something I can get for 40USD at home), Buckingham Palace (very underwhelming, and I found the guards to be stupid and annoying, sort of funny though). My old friend from college, Laurel, met us at the London Eye about 4pm, and from there we went to St. Paul´s Cathedral, saw Tower Bridge, walked past the globe theater, and met up with her boyfriend at a place called The Anchor for dinner. Aleks and I split some monstrosity of a fish and chips plate. It was good... a little bland... I know Brits are known for their terrible food, but it wasn´t so bad really. From there we walked around a bit more, and at Picadilly Circus, we saw some guys doing a break dancing demonstration. It was really cool to watch until the police broke it up, and then we dispersed to M&M World and went for a drink at a pub. Aleks and I, being frozen to the bone after a day of walking in freezing temperatures, got hot tea instead of alcohol.
On Sunday, so... yesterday, I got up for the breakfast again. Just due to overcrowding, I wound up eating with a guy who is from London now but originally from South Africa. He was talkative and had a lot to say about world economy. He was comical and interesting to talk to over my cocoa krispies and coffee and hot chocolate mix. Got online for a bit and then woke up Aleks and we took off for some more sight seeing. We went to Emirates Stadium (for her) and Covent Garden. From Covent Garden, we walked around a lot until we wound up back at Big Ben and then went to the Westminster Abbey. Since it was Sunday, we couldn´t enter the main church area without consenting to sitting through an hour and fifteen minutes service, so we just walked around the cloister area. That was odd and interesting. All these dead bodies buried under the walkways... We meandered up to Soho, which is the gay district, in search of this tattoo parlor we never found. Seems every time I am ready to let someone use a needle to decorate my flesh, it gets foiled. Oh well. Last night we cooked pasta in the hostel to save some money, so that was cool.
We slept about 2-3 hours and then called a cab to pick us up, take us to the bus station, which then took us to the airport. Our flight was at 6am, got into Valladolid at about 9.30, and back to my apartment around 10am. Napped a good bit, watched a new episode of ¨Desperate Housewives,¨ and talked extensively online with John. Went up to Carrefour for some groceries, and now I´m getting ready to go to the gym to get my fitness on.
Clearly this is going to be an epic journey of hell, so I thought I should start chronicling it now. Our plane didn´t show up to Valladolid, and now we are sitting on a bus getting ready to depart for Santander... four f------ hours away to catch our plane to London. We´re hearing that it´s due to the fog that we have to go to Santander. My guess is the pilot was too drunk to make it or that there was a problem with the original plane they don´t want to admit to. Anyway, let´s back this up a little bit.
Last two nights I´ve slept like awful. So, knowing that I was bound for London today, I decided to pop an ativan for sleeping last night. It worked too well. I didn´t hear my alarm clock go off this morning... or aLEKS (i have no idea why im suddenly stuck in all caps right now... my computer seems to have just had an aneurysm. Fu----- beautiful. That is what i need on the way to santander on a four hour bus ride when i should landing in london in 15 minutes... f------ ryanair.) was calling me from the damn taxi downstairs. Ughh.... so i got up, completely panicked, threw a bunch of shit in a carry on (of course i forgot to pack underwear... contemplating whether i want to buy some new ones or just go commando all throughout my time in london...) and sprinted out to the taxi. For those who know me, you know it is impossible for me to function without coffee. So multiply that by about a million since im naturally a disorganized mess and was still processing a sedative out of my system. (I also realize i didnt pack a razor (and i need to shave), toothpaste, deodorant, or birth control pills... got my multivitamin though, dag gummit) Also, i didnt brush my hair, which also needs to be washed. I just put on an ecuadorian tobogan and went for it.
Fortunately, aleks was all chill and forgiving in the taxi. We got to the airport WITH NOT A LOT OF EXTRA TIME TO WASTE, BUT WE GOT OUR PASSPORTS STAMPED AND HEADED FOR SECURITY. GOING THROUGH SECURITY WAS JUST FANTASTIC. HAD TO TAKE OfF MY ECUADOR HAT. AND MY VERY SHORT HAIR WAS STICKING OUT IN SO MANY DIRECTIONS, INTERESTINGLY FRAMING MY UNWASHED FACE. I JUST DIDNT MAKE EYE CONTACT WITH ANYONE (AND TRIED NOT TO BREATHE IN ANYONES FACE WITH MY UNSCRUBBED CHOMPERS) AND GOT THROUGH IT. LEARNED THAT VALLADOLID AIRPORT SECURITY IS SHIT. SUPPOSED TO TAKE OUT PHONES BEFORE GOING THROUGH, MOST AIRPORTS WOULD STOP YOU IF YOU FAILED TO REMOVE IT FROM YOUR BAG, TO PROVE IT ISNT A BOMB. I THOUGHT ID FORGOTTEN MY PHONE AT HOME SO DIDNT TAKE IT OUT AND GOT THROUGH SECURITY JUST FINE. THEN THERES ANOTHER PASSPORT GUY, AND EVEN THOUGH I GOT BACK INTO THIS COUNTRY ON AN *EXPIRED VISA*, IN BUSTLING BARCELONA, IN VALLADOLID, THEY INSISTED ON SEEING MY RESIDENCY CARD BEFORE LETTING ME FLY OUT. NOT that THEY ACTUALLY LET US FLY OUT ANYWAY, OR I WOULDNT BE WRITING THIS. SO ABOUT 150 OF US ARE STANDING IN LINE IN THE ONLY BOARDING ROOM IN THE WHOLE AIRPORT AND SOME GARBLED ANNOUNCEMENT COMES ON. I UNDERSTAND NOTHING, BUT I HEAR PPL SAYING... BLAH BLAH BLAH AUTOBUS, JODER, AUTOBUS. THIS DOESNT SOUND GOOD SO I ASK THE DUDE IN FRONT OF US, AND HE EXPLAINS. WE ARE ALL LIKE "·$=)%?·$)!·="·$$%)·$%)))·$%.
AFTER WE WAIT 15 MINUTES AND THE BUS STILL ISNT THERE WE DECIDE... OK, FOOD. OBVIOUSLY NOTHING MATTERS ANYWAY. SO WE HAVE BREAKFAST BAGUETTES IN THE AIRPORT CAFETERIA AND EVENTUALLY THE FIRST BUS COMES. WE HEAD OUT, PUT OUR LUGGAGE ON DECK, AND THEN ARE TOLD TO REMOVE IT BECAUSE THE BUS IS FULL. OH ASS AND TITTIES!!! SO WE SPEND ANOTHER TEN MINUTES IN THE COLD WAITING FOR THE NEXT BUS. SECOND OUT OF 3 OR 4. IM PARANOICALLY STRADDLING MY SUITCASE WITH MY CALVES, HUGGING IT WITH MY LEGS TO TRY TO KEEP MY LAPTOP WARM... AND THEN THE BUS IS THERE AND ITS A DAMN STAMPEDE. IM CHEWING MY GLOVES OFF, STRUGGLING TO PULL MY COMPUTER, BOARDING PASS, AND PASSPORT FROM MY SUITCase, all while being trampled by 100 other angry ryanair customers. Getting onto the bus was like... a blood clot in a plaque filled, athersclerosis-siezed blood vessel- We all rushed the door at the same time. Everyone wanted to slit everyone elses throat, and there was just a lot of shoving. I am claustrophobic, and i particularly hate taking elbows to the boob, (which happens frequently in large crowds due to my height in comparison to the height of the average elbow when it is reaching about frantically) so that was an overall unpleasant experience.
Finally, we are on a bus. I have no idea how this is going to work in santander. I just want some underwear.
Finally we are on the plane. Got to santander in about 3.5 hours. Not bad except for the part where i should already be riding the london eye. Whatever. I saw some pretty mountains on the way hear. Apparently our bus driver was a light rock fan. He was playing it pretty loud, and since i was playing solitaire on my computer, an angry spanish woman to my left thought it was me who was playing the annoying music. She asked me to turn it down in that feigned politeness people use when they want a stranger to do something for them. I informed her it wasnt my music, and we went along listening.
In santander today its about 21º celsius, so my double layered columbia jacket and my ecuador hat were a bit much. Even when we got to santander, our plane wasnt here. I asked aleks, where is the plane?! She replied, oh there is no plane. Now people are stowing their bags in the overhead cabin storage, and the flight staff are being all like, please stow your luggage and take an empty seat as quickly as possible... as if as quickly as possible is really their motto around here. Aleks has filled me with a dreadful thought, so does this plane even work? Oh my, i am not sure if it does or not. Fortunately, all this excessive jet setting lately has worked to ease my once extreme flight anxiety. Now i just pretend to have flight anxiety and use the prescribed ativan for sleeping medication. F--k it. And here we go. Better turn this thing off until we have reached a ¨safe altitude to use approved electronic devices.¨
Well, that´s what I wrote on the way to London. It is now Monday evening, about 8pm, and I´m reporting the rest of the trip. London is altogether a very cool city. I would like to have more time to spend there getting to know the ins and outs of it. The first night, Aleks and I went to the King´s Cross Social Club, a cute little pub very close to the hostel. I ordered a beer right away, London Pale Ale. Well, it was a good beer, but I felt my wallet was completely raped at 4.20 pounds (a pound is worth 1.7 USD) for a pint. After that, we switched to wine, split a bottle of red. Some guys included us in their round of jager bombs shortly thereafter, and... they weren´t trying to get in our pants,lol... The one wanted dating advice about some woman he claimed to love after spending about 8 hours with her. Anyway, it was an interesting evening, nice to be able to converse freely with people without the worry of the language barrier. Plus, I feel like people there were more willing to come up and be social with us than here in Valladolid. So it was nice, and after the drinks and the long day of travel, we slept quite well. I got up for the free breakfast the following morning at the hostel. Then we were off to see the sights. We saw Big Ben, the London Eye (which was, tragically, not working, so I didn´t get to go up), Aleks got a tattoo (I wanted one, but not for an 80pound minimum when it´s something I can get for 40USD at home), Buckingham Palace (very underwhelming, and I found the guards to be stupid and annoying, sort of funny though). My old friend from college, Laurel, met us at the London Eye about 4pm, and from there we went to St. Paul´s Cathedral, saw Tower Bridge, walked past the globe theater, and met up with her boyfriend at a place called The Anchor for dinner. Aleks and I split some monstrosity of a fish and chips plate. It was good... a little bland... I know Brits are known for their terrible food, but it wasn´t so bad really. From there we walked around a bit more, and at Picadilly Circus, we saw some guys doing a break dancing demonstration. It was really cool to watch until the police broke it up, and then we dispersed to M&M World and went for a drink at a pub. Aleks and I, being frozen to the bone after a day of walking in freezing temperatures, got hot tea instead of alcohol.
On Sunday, so... yesterday, I got up for the breakfast again. Just due to overcrowding, I wound up eating with a guy who is from London now but originally from South Africa. He was talkative and had a lot to say about world economy. He was comical and interesting to talk to over my cocoa krispies and coffee and hot chocolate mix. Got online for a bit and then woke up Aleks and we took off for some more sight seeing. We went to Emirates Stadium (for her) and Covent Garden. From Covent Garden, we walked around a lot until we wound up back at Big Ben and then went to the Westminster Abbey. Since it was Sunday, we couldn´t enter the main church area without consenting to sitting through an hour and fifteen minutes service, so we just walked around the cloister area. That was odd and interesting. All these dead bodies buried under the walkways... We meandered up to Soho, which is the gay district, in search of this tattoo parlor we never found. Seems every time I am ready to let someone use a needle to decorate my flesh, it gets foiled. Oh well. Last night we cooked pasta in the hostel to save some money, so that was cool.
We slept about 2-3 hours and then called a cab to pick us up, take us to the bus station, which then took us to the airport. Our flight was at 6am, got into Valladolid at about 9.30, and back to my apartment around 10am. Napped a good bit, watched a new episode of ¨Desperate Housewives,¨ and talked extensively online with John. Went up to Carrefour for some groceries, and now I´m getting ready to go to the gym to get my fitness on.
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
There is that moment
on waking in the wilderness when
you realize your stakes are coming up
the earth resists your permanence
and you'll have to move along.
And you love this place,
its smell, its mossy texture,
its crystal cold water
chilling, thrilling the tongue.
You love the spring green leaves
playing with the wind
but that same wind
is blowing you away
and you can't stay
you can't inhale sweet fern
can't slide your tired body
down a tree's rough bark
and rest in what's been your home.
Your soul, always out distancing body
has begun her move
and your feet can't do anything else
but follow.
Now the soil is not yours,
the river is not yours,
that clear blue sky is not yours,
and somehow
you no longer care.
on waking in the wilderness when
you realize your stakes are coming up
the earth resists your permanence
and you'll have to move along.
And you love this place,
its smell, its mossy texture,
its crystal cold water
chilling, thrilling the tongue.
You love the spring green leaves
playing with the wind
but that same wind
is blowing you away
and you can't stay
you can't inhale sweet fern
can't slide your tired body
down a tree's rough bark
and rest in what's been your home.
Your soul, always out distancing body
has begun her move
and your feet can't do anything else
but follow.
Now the soil is not yours,
the river is not yours,
that clear blue sky is not yours,
and somehow
you no longer care.
Monday, January 2, 2012
This land is mine
I'm lying in the grass
dew penetrates my clothes
on the riverbank
and out the corner of my eye
chunks of asphalt fall
into the river
wash away smearing oil
and I'm crying.
You used to be so beautiful.
I used to travel your swells and dips
I was a butterfly on a wind.
And they've raped you now
you're not the same
I see you change a little more each day
and I want to hurl myself out the window
lie against your surface, wail wildly
til you hear me
I still see you.
I see you disappearing
I see them ignoring you disappearing
and I want to grip you
and hold you real
My arms are not wide enough.
And I dream of rivers,
filled with oil.
I dream of flames
consuming me running barefoot out of the woods
everyone is falling
And I just run.
And you're not the same.
And I miss the you you were.
And I can't save you.
And I just thought you should know.
I see you.
dew penetrates my clothes
on the riverbank
and out the corner of my eye
chunks of asphalt fall
into the river
wash away smearing oil
and I'm crying.
You used to be so beautiful.
I used to travel your swells and dips
I was a butterfly on a wind.
And they've raped you now
you're not the same
I see you change a little more each day
and I want to hurl myself out the window
lie against your surface, wail wildly
til you hear me
I still see you.
I see you disappearing
I see them ignoring you disappearing
and I want to grip you
and hold you real
My arms are not wide enough.
And I dream of rivers,
filled with oil.
I dream of flames
consuming me running barefoot out of the woods
everyone is falling
And I just run.
And you're not the same.
And I miss the you you were.
And I can't save you.
And I just thought you should know.
I see you.
Sunday, January 1, 2012
Love and Pizza
Well, Happy New Year, all! I really haven't kept up with this thing but decided to post this morning. There are two holidays throughout the year that always give me pause and make me think... Thanksgiving and New Year's. Never hurts to think of what you're thankful for nor to look forward to a new year with hope. I am waking up to coffee and three of my favorite people still asleep here in the trailer. I rang in the new year with old friends and was dancing Danza Kuduro shortly after the ball dropped, so I'm thinking... this oughtn't be too bad.
So... looking back to 2011. In January I was working on my second semester of graduate school. I was teaching my second round of students how to speak basic Spanish and continuing to teach my fitness classes. In 2011 I taught at Healthworks, CRH, and CTA. It was a year of Bollywood and Zumba. I met some great girls doing that Bollywood performance, and the music, movement, and warmth did a lot for my heart. I started participating in the Morgantown drum circle, and that has been great. I love just making unplanned music with people, and I love that I've made new friends doing it. As with every year, I spent a lot of time kayaking around Cheat Lake in the summer with Joe. That is always excellent. For the first time in maybe ever, I had some steady workout pals in 2011. Was much more motivating and fun to have Arty, Rachel, and Emily around. Somewhere in the spring I learned I would be going to Spain. It wasn't so much an option as it was... as soon as it was presented, I knew I would be going. I was scared and excited, scared to be leaving John for the better part of nine months straight, excited to FiNaLlY get that immersion opportunity... and the opportunity to go figure out how to be strong on my own. What else about 2011? Well, I think I continued to improve at finding that ever elusive ideal of balance. I didn't get all A's in 2011, but I stayed healthy and maintained friendships and other interests, as well. I played a little more piano than I had in recent past years, and I don't regret that at all. I learned what a bonafide pain in the ass getting a student visa and temporary residency card for Spain is, but in the end, I pulled myself crying off of John at the gate of the Pittsburgh airport and flew away for awhile. Landing in Spain was overwhelming in many ways, and the first segment of this adventure has been largely about adjustment... adjustment to hearing more of a language other than my native tongue on a regular basis, adjustment to a new roommate, to being really, truly alone. Walking into the first meeting with the other instructors was intense. Most everyone was 20ish years older than me and speaking really fast Spanish. But eventually I settled into it, and I've made some good friends in Valladolid. I've traveled to Granada, Madrid, and Rome with those friends. So 2 major items can be checked off the bucket list now- visiting Italy and going off and living abroad for awhile. I'm getting stronger. I feel it a little more every day. I don't mean in the gym- I mean, I'm coping better with life. There's something about going off and learning to deal with being really and truly alone and then making friends you know you aren't going to see much if ever again beyond the 9-month stint you all have in a foreign country together. You learn to live in the moment. Every day you get up and get moving and don't let the fear consume you, you've accomplished something, and that necessity... to just make it... sort of forces you to celebrate the small victories.
ALSO in 2011... we got Jupiter!!! I love that cat. After Artemis I thought no pet could be as special as she was (it's hard to compete with a cat that goes swimming in the bathtub and births her kittens right by your head in the middle of the night), but Jupiter has been awesome. He puts us to bed, he wakes us up, and he is the most affectionate cat I've ever had or known. Also, the cute factor makes me feel like my head is going to explode on a frequent basis.
Oh yeah... I was working at Barnes and Noble again in 2011, May to August. It was good to have the opportunity to be back there. I really love that place. It's been one of the best work environments I've ever been in, mostly because of the people. Everyone there is interesting and warm. Plus, I really love using the espresso machine. If being a barista paid more than minimum wage, I don't think I would feel a need to do anything else with my life.
At the beginning of 2011, I set some goals for myself. I think it's odd to call it a resolution, as if there is something unresolved. That sort of.. makes it sound negative from the get go. Anyway, I had decided that 1. I would be able to do 100 push ups straight by the end of the year, 2. I would find a natural solution to my chronic back pain, 3. I would get to a point where I could be accepting of myself and just let myself live without feeling some deep-down need to apologize for who I am, and 4. I really don't remember what 4 was, so clearly it wasn't important. I still cannot do 100 push ups in row. I think I got to about 42 consecutive push ups in March or April before I decided I was tired of doing push ups and that it didn't matter. Being a fitness instructor, I was also concerned about over-training my chest muscles without balancing it in the back, and as I didn't have time to incorporate 100 rear flies or the like in every workout and still be able to meet my other fitness goals (because my outlook is that I get fit to live, not the other way around and I'm never going to spend 2+ hours a day in the gym, unless I'm teaching that many classes), I decided to let it go. It doesn't matter. I don't feel that I've majorly disappointed myself. I have continued to stay active and healthy, and that's what really counts. I haven't found a way for my back not to hurt either. It isn't debilitating, so it's not a huge deal. Regular exercise seems to be the most helpful thing. Clearly, yoga would be most useful, but sometimes you have to be real... I am not at a place in my life anymore where I can spend 30 to 60 minutes calmly alone on my mat. I've tried to force it. It doesn't happen. I don't feel Zen, I feel like jumping out of my skin. I'd try to reset this goal for 2011, but I know I won't follow it. Right now, it's just forcing something that is unnatural to me so whatever. As for #3, I would say that I'm definitely a lot more OK with me than I was at the beginning of the year. I don't know how to explain this really... I probably put more pressure on myself than other people put on me. I just have a tendency to be places doing things and worrying... who I'm not with or taking care of or being present to as I "should." I'm a wanderer in more ways than one. My location and ideas are always changing, and I guess I got to a point where I decided I wasn't allowed to change anymore so that growth got uncomfortable. There's been some level of guilt for thinking this and not that and just for being a mover. I feel that some people would like for me to just hold still, quit fidgeting through life, but there is just so damn much out there. If I want to be kayaking, I'm going kayaking. If I want to fly off to another country, I'm going to fly off to another country (so interesting that this was a thought even before I knew Spain was an option), if I want to believe that a lot of the lies we feed ourselves are bullshit, I'm just going to believe it. I'm not going to cut myself down for not believing in fairy tales or for not being moved by things the majority of others find to be so fascinating. For crying out loud, I visited the Sistine Chapel in December, and I was standing there thinking about pizza. I looked around, tried to get wowed, but I thought... what would really wow me is some pizza. I guess this just seems to be such an illustrative example of the way I function. I mean... I'm into art. But I'm into art the way I'm into music and food and dance. I don't care too much for training or standing in awe of what's already been created (not to say I don't appreciate what's been created), I would much rather be in the process of creating. And I guess when I'm sitting at a table in the Vatican city having a piece of pizza, folks buzzing all around me, I feel I'm tasting and feeling the life of the people so much more than when I'm looking at some paintings. The Sistine Chapel was beautiful. The paintings were great. I preferred sitting at the Trevi Fountain, stuffing my face with pizza and gelatto, observing as people walked to the fountain, coins in hand, making their wishes. I wondered what their wishes were. I love piano. I don't love researching dead composers or learning theory. I like to sit and play and hear the sounds that are coming from within my self. I like when other people play for or near me. I like the fact that their souls are coming out in sound and filling the air around us. The most moving experiences I had in Madrid were passing by a stringed quartet that was playing in the street at night... it just moved me the way there was no reason for them to be there other than they just wanted to fill up the air with music. And it enhanced the quality of the evening for thousands of people passing by that night. It's a beautiful thing. And then... the next day, walking towards the city center and a Hindu band was chanting prayers about Krishna as they walked along playing drums. I woman in a white saree handed out naan (sp) as they walked by. And I love food. I don't love fancy shit that costs more than I make in a week. I love the process of food, preparing it, preferably with other people, smelling it as its cooking, listening to the grease popping, the fan going, and finally savoring it. Yes, you can savor a cheap plate of homemade spaghetti. Dance... I love dance. I dance all the time, in my head, in my room, in Zumba, in the club. I haven't had much training... I had that one semester of ballet, and I was genuinely good at it, but it lacked something for me... I thought it was a fascinating idea, everyone sort of dressed in anonymous leotards, even their hair conforming to a dress code, the only thing differentiating one ballerina from another being their actual bodies and manner of movement. But, for me, it didn't seem anything was being danced but the training itself there. I love to go out and just go crazy dancing, and yeah, I look like a fool but I don't care. I love to choreograph my own bits for Zumba, and I love more than anything when my choreography is well received, danced by 20 people at a time, smiling, sweating, and setting themselves free for an hour. It's beautiful and it makes me high. I guess that's the cool thing about dance fitness and teaching it... I'm under no obligation to incorporate technical moves I know nothing about. As long as I make people sweat, I'm in the clear. If I can weave something a little more, the better. And I guess I had some anxiety over feeling the same way about my engagement. John and I have been engaged for four years. People are always asking, have you set a date, when are you getting married, are you even getting married? It makes me feel like my head is going to fall off. We're together. We live together, we share a life, a cat, and our bills. This has been going on for a good while. It sounded so weird to hear people congratulating us on our engagement as if NOW it counted, NOW it was real, NOW we could rest. I'm not a fairy tale person. I have been through and seen too much shit to ever go for fairy tales. I like to keep it very real. What makes John and me strong as a couple isn't some fantasy love story... nope... the shit we've been through, I really am not at liberty to disclose it all, but it's been rough, and getting through it... that's what's made us. We've seen and experienced enough that finding a job, graduating, purchasing a car here soon... seems like small potatoes, and also like sitting down to a dinner at home together or with family and friends, peacefully, is really something to celebrate and not to be overlooked. Whatever. I just know all that's going to be fine and don't care too much. I can live happily on minimum wage, and while I'm not glorifying poverty, what I am saying is that... there's a lot of stuff that we worry about that just does not matter. And being where I've been, I know it's all going to be fine. So I guess my view is just that... marching me down an aisle all clad in some white dress like a f------- porcelain doll for everyone to gawk and and take pictures of is so non representative of anything in our relationship. I'm pretty sure that if we had some formal reception or dinner, we'd try hard to behave but ultimately fail by making some off-color, perverse, or generally disgusting joke or comment. So... why bother? We are what we are, and I don't want to pretend we are something we aren't. And I have no idea, in retrospect, why I would have ever felt guilty about that, or about being someone who thinks about scoring some pizza when I should be appreciating the art in the Sistine Chapel. To me it makes sense and doesn't detract from my experience of life, rather makes it richer. We all have our own experience, and mine is what it is. I'm not making any apologies. I've made progress this year, and I'm glad of it.
In 2012, my goal will be simply to love more. Sometimes I'm a little retentive about being very open or warm with people. The thing is, I didn't used to be. I was the most out-reaching, deep down true loving sort of person, and then I realized... I sort of freak people out. I'm an intimate soul, and I just don't care about the new dress and matching heels you just bought, the new car, and DEFINITELY NOT your damn iPhone or Mac computer. I want you to sit down, tell me who you are, and let me love you. Yup, I'm just like that with everyone. It is so instinctual for me to just want to know everything about you, whoever you are, from the first time we talk. And then I want to let you know you're fascinating and fabulous and that I love you. I am like a dog. And I guess I understand why that's off putting to some folks. I really don't like when I go to someone's house and their dog is jumping on me, their little hard toe nails digging into my pant legs. And maybe I can learn and back off and try not to overwhelm people, but I have gone too far in the other direction, very rigidly maintaining my distance and being a little too conscientious about not being "awkward" or making people "uncomfortable." And probably the constant rejection of my hyper bouncing version of immediate affection for everyone I ever met made me timid. It's just such a natural state of being for me that when everyone else wasn't the same way, I was confused. When people didn't immediately want to call me back, hang out again, or generally be my friend, it made me rather depressed. And it has been such a process, coming down from that high, innocent love of someone who was very late indeed in learning that most people just aren't like that. At first, I was just incredibly disappointed in people, in human nature. I couldn't understand, in a world where everyone is so craving love, why people didn't give it a little more freely. Why was everyone so anal retentive about giving a little heart and soul to people? Why not just let it go? Anyway, I'm just quite tired of talking with a filter in my mouth. If I want to tell you you're a beautiful person, I'm just going to say it and not worry too much if you look at me like I just bit a scorpion's butt. I want to just let it go. It doesn't help me, and it doesn't help you if I'm only being as sincere as polite society permits. So I'm sorry if I scare you. I'll try not to jump on you when you walk through the door. I'll try to be that dog that walks to the door but doesn't jump, that sits at your feet and eventually sits beside you once you've relaxed... like an old retriever maybe... but... Dear Universe and People who live in it, I do not want to stop loving you. Loving you keeps me alive, and sometimes you just have to trust that what you're doing is what you're meant to be doing. 2012... live in love, you beautiful people.
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