Dear Friends:
Today I accomplished almost everything I set out to do, and that’s fine considering I was perhaps overly-ambitious. Just this once, I won’t beat myself up, if only because I’m too tired to do it anyway. I woke up and was ridiculously crabby, even though it wasn’t on my to-do list at all. Not only had I slept til 9:30, it was cold and rainy outside, and I was deaf in one ear. Well, not totally deaf, but it was all blocked up and made loud ringing noises whenever I did anything like move or breathe or think. I was pissed. So I headed out for coffee and decongestants (hey, isn’t that almost the recipe for meth?) and spackle, because I had lost mine in the garage somewhere, and had holes that needed fillin’. Not that that’s any of your business. I was happy by the time I left the coffeeshop, which is almost always the case, so I headed over to Settergren’s for the spackle. Now, I’m a fan of Home Depot, because just yesterday they sold me paint1 and paint supplies and cut my new cellular shades to size in less than five minutes. But Settergren’s Ace Hardware was declared my new regular hardware store just a few weeks ago, when I went in there needing washers for the gigantic bolts that hold my arbor together. I fell in love with that store. It’s one of those neighborhood places where you see the same people all the time, and they don’t treat you like you’re dumb just because you’re a girl yelling, “I need me some spackle!” the second you walk in the door. If I owned a hardware store (and I would), it would be just like that2. So then I came home and I spackled my little heart out, and then set about the business of priming the walls. It was fairly easy, considering it was an exercise in creative contortionism. I’m sure someone smart would have removed the furniture from the room, or maybe even have been working in a bigger room to begin with. But me, I’m stubborn and intent on getting this shit done despite the towering obstacles. And I’m creative, so it went OK. I had to fling the chair onto the bed (which was under the supersexy tarp yet again) a lot, and I had to walk across the bed to get more paint on the roller constantly, and sometimes I had to stand on the computer desk from IKEA, which I’m aware is remarkably risky, but it worked. While painting over the window with no place to fit the chair, I discovered I could smear. If you’ve ever climbed, you know about this: you think there’s no possible way you’re going to be able to hold on, but if you believe you can find a foothold, you will, and you’ll stick to the wall. It’s all your head; the second you doubt, you fall. I had faith, and therefore everything I know about painting I learned at the rock-climbing gym. The primer takes four hours to dry, so I decided to go walk. I’ve been wanting to try for 10 miles, and thought today might be the day: it was finally sunny, and a little chilly, and I had four hours to kill. I figured I could probably do 10 miles in three, so I was set. I parked near Lake Harriet and headed up the east side of Calhoun. It was so windy, my hair was in orange-afro effect within seconds, and I’m surprised little kids didn’t run from me, crying. There were a few brave kayakers on the lake, and as far as I could tell, they were all flipped. I didn’t see a single one that could stay upright. At the north end of Lake of the Isles, it was threatening to rain, which only made sense since that was the furthest point from my car. There in the shallow marshy area, I saw three kids dragging a garbage can into the lake, in about four inches of water. Two of them boosted the third into the can, closed the top, and proceeded to lob rocks and garbage at the can. Some days, I wish I was 10 years old again. At about the halfway point, now on the west side of Calhoun, I decided I couldn’t hold it any longer, and I am the kind of girl who would almost choose pants-peeing over a port-a-potty. (The last time I was forced to use one was at the Radiohead show in Wisconsin; I almost cried.) So I took a detour to Whole Foods, because with all the money I give them, they can at least let me use their restroom when I’m not actually shopping there. Crossing Excelsior Boulevard, I got that sharp, shooting pain in my hip again, the one that makes me stop breathing and hobble, and for a second was afraid I was actually going to die right there in the middle of the road. Because it would be remarkably uncool to do so, I didn’t. But, damn. It was disheartening. I forced myself to slow down, and by the time I got to the store, it was fine again. I cut back through the lacrosse field, finished Calhoun, and walked back through that woodsy perfect-spot-for-a-kidnapping between there and Lake Harriet. I had gone seven miles and felt fine, so I decided to go for it. By the bandshell, I passed a couple putting on rollerblades and setting up their Walkmans: Him: Whatcha got there?Her: Oh, I got Christian and non-Christian.
Him: Ohhhh! Both kinds of music! At about mile 8, I started to feel it. My feet were sore, even despite my $15 professional walking socks (which are still pretty awesome). And then there was the wind again, which was fine at the beginning, but resistance-walking after eight miles just plain sucks. By mile 9, I realized I was more marching than walking. But I made it back to my car fine, and I even won3! I came in just a little under my goal, at 2:50. And I’m pretty damn happy about that. My goal in future training is to remind myself that I am allowed to and even should be required to stop and rest. And eat, and hydrate. Just because I’m walking 10 or more miles doesn’t mean I have to walk them without stopping. I’m still working on that fitness zen thing. It’s hard. After that was Luce with Heather and The Sexiest Man Alive, who you have not heard about recently, but never fear! He’s recovered from his protracted illness and has returned to eat the mashed potato pizza with a vengeance, even though it threatens the moustache, due to being TOO TALL. The pizza, not the moustache. You know. We were punchy and it was an all-around good night at Luce, and Josh was in his summer gear, so that can only portend good things. I meant to come home and paint my room afterwards, just to be done with it, but realized that I hastily threw away the paint roller and neglected to buy a new one. So I guess I’ll be saving that til tomorrow, which is for the best. It’ll give me time to obsess about my protein intake today, and then decide make some protein cookies to make up for that. It’s a plan. Gnight, y’all.
Jenni
1 Here is a long, pointless story I was pondering today in an effort to figure out what this says about how my mind works:
I brought my paint chip up the counter, and the guy working there asked if I wanted the primer tinted instead of white. I said yes, of course. And while I sat there on the stool waiting for my paint, I grew more and more concerned about the tinted-primer question. Why wouldn’t you want the primer tinted? Isn’t that part of the reason? Obviously some people must need it otherwise, since he asked, but WHY? It just makes sense. And this upset me, it did. I needed to know. I considered asking the paint guy, but he was mixing about fifteen cans at the time, and I didn’t want to interrupt. Just then, this guy sidled up next to me on the other stool at the paint counter, exactly as you would at a bar. I was instantly amused, because I had just overheard him telling his dad to go find something to do. I considered asking him his views on the great primer-tinting debate, but figured in the Home-Depot universe, that might be some kind of pickup line. So I pretended to be immensely interested in my cell instead.
But I’m still wondering about the primer.
2 A hardware store owned by a girl would ROCK. Don’t argue with me. I think it’s partially because I want to make up for my first job: at 15, I worked in a hardware store where the girls were not allowed to step away from the registers into hardware-land, under penalty of death. And those guys were so damn slimy. It still makes me shiver.
3 In order to win at walking, one must not allow any other walkers to pass. Runners are fine, although one may consider tripping them if necessary.