Tuesday, December 9, 2008

Pool of Tears, Bag of Chips

I skipped yoga this week because I was having too much fun with my kids, my shoulder hurts a little, and it was really snowing and I was going to either miss the beginning and/or have a way too small space in the crowded class, probably near a wall, door, closet, office, etc. Been there. No fun.

I went much later and did 45 minutes of elliptical. Because I was late and well after the after work crowd, I got the most desirable elliptical machine - the one where a giant support column blocks the view of tv showing Fox News. Ah. Listened to the last four tracks of Moody Blues Anthology disc two, with which I am less familiar than some of their other work, then most of Tropical Brainstorm by Kirsty MacColl, always a favorite.

Hit the pool, thinking I'd be the only one there, but no. A man was there with his young daughter. She was probably seven or so. As it was about ten at night my first thought was somewhat judgmental - "why isn't she in bed?" But in between sets of swim team memory inspired assignments to myself (I can hear coach Blackburn saying, "200 IM on the top!" - which means down and back one time each with fly, back, breast, free when the second hand reaches 60), I caught the sounds of them playing and looked over once in a while.

He was being so kind to her, they were having so much fun, and she so obviously loved him and reveled in his attention that it brought tears to my eyes. I wanted to say something like, "God bless you for being so kind and spending your time with your family," or "This time you're giving her now is going to pay off a thousandfold, brother," or "You and the people like you are the people who are really making a difference in the world, my fellow father."

I really thought about actually doing it. But of course I didn't. Who am I, Mr. Rogers? Would it have been appropriate and affirming or just awkward? Knowing myself, most likely the latter. But here's to you, unnamed man. Salud.


There is about a quarter of a bag of guacamole chips in the pantry at my house. It has been there since before I started going to the gym. I do not eat it. Why not? Because I am in the habit of not eating it.

I like guacamole chips. They're probably my favorite chip in the chip family if such a thing exists. And I certainly do get hungry after dinner, especially if I'm going to watch a DVD with Bride. However, it has now become a habit to go look at the bag, think about the green chalky fingers that would result, and then not eat anything. It's like insurance against late night eating. Weird, but it works.

Thursday, December 4, 2008


It's just a number in our arbitrary system of measuring things's masses as they interact with Earth's gravity, but I am at it as of this morning. Very exciting. I feel lighter. I remember talking to Chazz when I was interacting with Earth's gravity more to the tune of 210-215 and him saying we should both lose 10%. I thought that was kind of nuts, but now...maybe. 190? Could happen. What would it be like? Would I like it more or less? Maybe I'll find out if I stay on this healthy path.