I feel like I have two layers. Meaning my mood. My writing. Comes out in predictable patterns. Layer 1 is the default mode. Go go go. The hypnotic ebb and flow of family work sleep eat clean rinse repeat. Layer 2 is the sneak out of bed early, Yoga With Adrienne, foam roll legs, write with the computer instead of on-the-fly phone. Maybe layer is the wrong word. Cellular iteration, maybe. Or mode. Channel. Frequency.
Upping the mileage and intensity of training, week by week. I’m planning to peak by early October for a marathon distance. Probably TC. Goal is sub-3 hours. Or sub 7 minute-mile pace.
Upping the mileage and intensity ups the soreness. My right knee slides in and out of it’s track. I take these menacing ticks to be part of the process. Training is like gardening. There’s always work to do. Always weeding. Stretch, foam roll, epsom salt bath. Heat, ice, massage.
Training is the on-point metaphor. Break down muscles. Recover. Repeat. Again and again.
The baby and Kate and still sleeping. Yesterday Kate and i played a soccer game, the day after racing a brutal half marathon. Afterward, she curled up on the couch in a blanket. I’ve never seen her so spent. We both cracked on Time Restricted Eating. I gulped down kumbucha and decaf coffee. She spooned in yogurt.
This is some stuff I’m thinking about.
Outdoor compost. Pallets. Chicken wire. Breathable. Coverable. Passably gentrified for suburban renters. The indoor compost bin is a stainless steel spaghetti sauce pot and its sitting on the counter and its getting full and the operation needs to move outside.
Cashew ice cream only requires raw cashews, almond milk, vanilla and maple syrup. Vita mix all four ingredients and freeze for an hour. Whee. I YouTubed it. Kate said if you can make ice cream without sugar I’ll love you. Then she added so much. I plan to track down raw cashews today. Apparently Walmart is the only nearby grocer that carries raw cashews. Kate objects to me shopping at Walmart. She prefers Target. I 100% hear her objections. I’m just a goddamn hypocrite.
Speaking of Target, I need to return the knee brace to Target because it kept falling off during the soccer game and the package says Satisfaction Guaranteed.
I have a runner friend named Swift Kitchen. That’s his social media name. His real name is Trevor. And he’s fast as fast gets for white people. Is that racist? Can something be racist even if it’s true? Anyway after college in Georgia, he moved to Colorado to run and train and now he’s running very fast. I asked him about sponsorship, because it’s something that I’m interested in. Like, is it possible for a normal grit runner like me to get sponsored? Or do you have be Olympic? He said he’s got some sponsorship from Altra. I asked him if he wanted more sponsorship. He said it’d be icing on the cake but mostly he’s just letting stuff come.
Let stuff come.
I’m in South Saint Paul and I created this Facebook group last week called South Saint Paul Yoga in the Park and I scheduled the first session for tonight at 7pm at Grandview park, but I’m looking at the grey sky and charcoal clouds and the weather app says rain tonight is likely to occur with a probability of 70%. I’m going to have to message the group and say stay tuned but its not looking good. I’ll ask the group if anyone knows of an indoor space in SSP where we could all gather for free. Like church basement or something.
I talked with my friend Chuck yesterday about what makes a good marriage.
He and I just sort of fumble talked it out the way two 30-something men who went to high school together and have been married for 8 months and 3 years, respectively. Humans are all so different. But we’re so similar. It’s an odd truth. One thing Chuck said, which I found interesting, was this. Conventional wisdom says compromise is key. And this may appear to be a shit sandwich on the preference-maximizing scale. Like if I want Korean BBQ and she wants Italian, maybe we say ok Italian this time and BBQ next time. So I have to wait a week. Which is delayed gratification. But maybe there’s someone out there who wants Korean BBQ NOW NOW NOW NOW. The problem with this formula is that the pursuit of immediate pleasure will carry you from one potential mate to the next, with pretty Swift Kitchen running speed. Chuck’s point was that while compromise requires less satisfaction in the immediate moment, it brings long term happiness. I think he’s right. Because I think the strength of a sustained pair bond is itself a valuable good, which brings happiness. I think. Again we’re just fumbling around.
The whole conversation we sat on a bench at Lake Nokomis, and watched these two teenage dudes toss a football back and forth. Chuck commented that of the 15 minutes worth of throws back and forth, only one or two passes were actually caught.
Fitting juxtaposition. It’s possible our shit shooting was similarly amateur.
We’re just doing the best we can.
Lastly. The Yoga With Adrienne session for tired legs is phenom. As is the feet one. Ooo man.