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Jul. 17th, 2010 07:26 am< Niel > Hallo darkness my old friend...< /Niel >
As planned I woke up with Dawn (hello Dawn) (no, not really, just dawn) after a lovely dream where I had committed revenge murder with a wood club and was trying to determine the best legal course of action, to go running before it got beastly hot. I'm still just running 2 miles but doing it more frequently. I know I should get back into the old air-conditioned treadmill but I just hate to not run outside when I can. Since I'm only doing low weights and rehab (no no no) I can afford to run more.
I note that I am having a much easier time managing my weight now. Janna has me more cautious about some things, I'm even eating vegetables as if they were food, and being cut off when Lindt outlet closed has me rationing chocolate. Rationing chocolate.
Despite only measuring 76 deg, humidity was also as high and I found it ... not hard to breathe, but not terribly productive to do so. I never got a fast pace going, I never hit my stride, but I didn't quite old-man stumble and I didn't stop. As I headed out I saw a hyoge spider web spread across half the sidewalk - chuckled that it wouldn't be there long and reminded myself to be on the other side of the sidewalk on the way back. Running around the Marine Memorial I passed a running club - some fit old fuckers they were. I thought about the fact that since they don't (necessarily) party Friday night it was a great idea for them to get up with Dawn or dawn's ass-crack and run before it became even more painful to do so. I realized I never even thought about going out last night and hadn't drunk in...well 2 days. I've stopped the nonsocial drinking.
I didn't try to stop drinking - it sort of happened. I didn't mean to start, but when my dad went to the hospital those years ago I started to supplement with drinkable drugs. I had just spent 5 years in poo...4 years I had worked full time while attending law school, more months taking the bar prep course and then passing the bar exam, and right after that my dad fell into the hospital bed he never got out of. All those years I had looked for spare time and not had it - I knew I'd get used to normal life some day, but couldn't even imagine how people felt that didn't spend 40 hours more a week at a second job, emotional death...I knew I felt bored once but couldn't really feel the memory. When I finally got time, dumped and even my ex's weren't there to um...fall back on with NO romantic possibility (even I knew that had there been anyone with relationship potential I was too hurt to know my own feelings), reeling from the pain of the hospital tour and death, I had all the time in the world and no idea what to do with it. Time was just a place to feel pain. When dad was in the hospital I got to drinking at home - couldn't get drunk in case I had to rush off and watch him die or something, so I just drank a little a lot. Afterwards it was more of a maintenance thing, then a tasty treat that was somewhat habitual. Time goes by faster when you drink.
So it's been years, pain isn't a deep or regular by a long shot, and even romance doesn't run from me anymore (at least until I post about manslaughter dreams). I think it's only been in the past few months that I haven't had the urge to drink. I drink in clubs, but while I know I could and the cabinet is full, it's not the calories or washboard idea that keeps me from drinking. It isn't discipline. It's just accidentally not feeling like it, not seeing it as an activity. I could play my stupid game, read, watch the tele, but drink? If I think about it I just lose hours of time recovering, even from a tiny buzz, and soak up those calories. Maybe the not having white russians (skim milk!) 3 times a week is why I'm finding it easier to manage my weight.
Heck, now I'm even drinking coffee less. Sure it's fun to drink but after a while it's not a fun drug but maintenance. Drinking because it's morning, to get through work, isn't what I want from coffee. I want Janna, the onion and city papers, and a hyper conversation in a local shop for that drug. I want to move it around my mouth to taste it on different parts of my tongue, not slurped out of a travel mug while trying to stay alert in my highway lane without missing the news.
So how is not feeling pain all the time, Mr. José? When you pass the cessation of pain, what is that? Is it good or just not bad? Should I kick myself to do more with this time or just act like a normal person and relax. What next pain is around the corner and how will you handle that?
As I crested the hill by Ft Meyer's gate I ran right through that spider web...
As planned I woke up with Dawn (hello Dawn) (no, not really, just dawn) after a lovely dream where I had committed revenge murder with a wood club and was trying to determine the best legal course of action, to go running before it got beastly hot. I'm still just running 2 miles but doing it more frequently. I know I should get back into the old air-conditioned treadmill but I just hate to not run outside when I can. Since I'm only doing low weights and rehab (no no no) I can afford to run more.
I note that I am having a much easier time managing my weight now. Janna has me more cautious about some things, I'm even eating vegetables as if they were food, and being cut off when Lindt outlet closed has me rationing chocolate. Rationing chocolate.
Despite only measuring 76 deg, humidity was also as high and I found it ... not hard to breathe, but not terribly productive to do so. I never got a fast pace going, I never hit my stride, but I didn't quite old-man stumble and I didn't stop. As I headed out I saw a hyoge spider web spread across half the sidewalk - chuckled that it wouldn't be there long and reminded myself to be on the other side of the sidewalk on the way back. Running around the Marine Memorial I passed a running club - some fit old fuckers they were. I thought about the fact that since they don't (necessarily) party Friday night it was a great idea for them to get up with Dawn or dawn's ass-crack and run before it became even more painful to do so. I realized I never even thought about going out last night and hadn't drunk in...well 2 days. I've stopped the nonsocial drinking.
I didn't try to stop drinking - it sort of happened. I didn't mean to start, but when my dad went to the hospital those years ago I started to supplement with drinkable drugs. I had just spent 5 years in poo...4 years I had worked full time while attending law school, more months taking the bar prep course and then passing the bar exam, and right after that my dad fell into the hospital bed he never got out of. All those years I had looked for spare time and not had it - I knew I'd get used to normal life some day, but couldn't even imagine how people felt that didn't spend 40 hours more a week at a second job, emotional death...I knew I felt bored once but couldn't really feel the memory. When I finally got time, dumped and even my ex's weren't there to um...fall back on with NO romantic possibility (even I knew that had there been anyone with relationship potential I was too hurt to know my own feelings), reeling from the pain of the hospital tour and death, I had all the time in the world and no idea what to do with it. Time was just a place to feel pain. When dad was in the hospital I got to drinking at home - couldn't get drunk in case I had to rush off and watch him die or something, so I just drank a little a lot. Afterwards it was more of a maintenance thing, then a tasty treat that was somewhat habitual. Time goes by faster when you drink.
So it's been years, pain isn't a deep or regular by a long shot, and even romance doesn't run from me anymore (at least until I post about manslaughter dreams). I think it's only been in the past few months that I haven't had the urge to drink. I drink in clubs, but while I know I could and the cabinet is full, it's not the calories or washboard idea that keeps me from drinking. It isn't discipline. It's just accidentally not feeling like it, not seeing it as an activity. I could play my stupid game, read, watch the tele, but drink? If I think about it I just lose hours of time recovering, even from a tiny buzz, and soak up those calories. Maybe the not having white russians (skim milk!) 3 times a week is why I'm finding it easier to manage my weight.
Heck, now I'm even drinking coffee less. Sure it's fun to drink but after a while it's not a fun drug but maintenance. Drinking because it's morning, to get through work, isn't what I want from coffee. I want Janna, the onion and city papers, and a hyper conversation in a local shop for that drug. I want to move it around my mouth to taste it on different parts of my tongue, not slurped out of a travel mug while trying to stay alert in my highway lane without missing the news.
So how is not feeling pain all the time, Mr. José? When you pass the cessation of pain, what is that? Is it good or just not bad? Should I kick myself to do more with this time or just act like a normal person and relax. What next pain is around the corner and how will you handle that?
As I crested the hill by Ft Meyer's gate I ran right through that spider web...
