Yesterday I did a pull up. For some of you that means very little, and might not sound like much of an accomplishment. Well, dear reader who has never seen me, take my word for it, this was no small thing.
This is because I am no small thing. Let me draw some mental pictures. I’m built like a Penna black bear just before hibernation. I called myself the Amish Viking, gentle but broad. Something of a lumberjack, not really surly, but burly to be sure.
Part of the tendency to be broad is my lineage (German mostly), but mainly I eat too much and exercise too little. I should be plowing fields or rowing through the cold north instead of sitting in front of little boxes that light up and sing for me.
But that has been changing. If you refer back to the first sentence I did a pull up yesterday. Take that you flannel shirt, horned helmet, neutral colors wearing old self. There’s a new me breaking through, mostly in my back and shoulders at this point. We’ll see about the gut later in the year.
And I don’t have any plans to lose the neutral colors or horned helmet, they will just fit more comfortably.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Sunny Days are Here Again
In an effort to follow my own instructions, I will now tell you that I am enjoying today’s mild winter weather. If you have not noticed, it is sunny outside. Not just sunny, downright delightful. Especially after all the days of frozen streets that do not allow motorcycles to drive freely. Days that demand extra layers comprised of wool and cable knits. Days that will not allow the bald amount us to walk with no lid. Today is markedly different, I left all of my cable knits and lids at home and rode off into the sunrise with little more than a leather jacket (okay, I did wear a helmet). Today is a good weather day.
If you are reading this on the north east cost of the US I suggest you turn off the monitor/television/hand held display. I promise not to take too much time and I assure you that when you return Gilligan will still be on the island, the kid with a sword will still be searching for the princess, and our favorite local sporting team will still have a fighting chance.
But you, my friend, have an opportunity to step out into the sun light, the light that provides reprieve from your long hard slog of a winter. If you suffer from the winter blues you could even add a walk for good measure. If you miss your time in the sun today they tell me tomorrow will be more of the same.
However take the opportunity while it is here. I just looked ahead, and forecast is not that good. Apparently it will rain and maybe snow next week. It is still February, lest we forget. But my focus is not on possible weather next week. My focus is out the window.
I’m sorry, have nothing more to say, I must go.
If you are reading this on the north east cost of the US I suggest you turn off the monitor/television/hand held display. I promise not to take too much time and I assure you that when you return Gilligan will still be on the island, the kid with a sword will still be searching for the princess, and our favorite local sporting team will still have a fighting chance.
But you, my friend, have an opportunity to step out into the sun light, the light that provides reprieve from your long hard slog of a winter. If you suffer from the winter blues you could even add a walk for good measure. If you miss your time in the sun today they tell me tomorrow will be more of the same.
However take the opportunity while it is here. I just looked ahead, and forecast is not that good. Apparently it will rain and maybe snow next week. It is still February, lest we forget. But my focus is not on possible weather next week. My focus is out the window.
I’m sorry, have nothing more to say, I must go.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Books in the Hull
Months ago my work was located in what we call an up and coming neighborhood. You could also call it gentrifying. I did benefit from the growing economy of restaurants and small stores, mostly I benefited from the library one block from my office door. It was easily the best part of my work day. It was truly a sanctuary from my day of forms and nagging computer responsibilities. I visited every day. If I was not inside the building reading I was there long enough to pick up and drop off my book as I went to the local park bench.
Four months ago my office moved. No doubt it was influenced by the development in the neighborhood we left behind. The biggest problem with the new place is that the closest library branch is not an easy walk away, and there are no park benches anywhere in sight. Add to this picture the fact that the temperatures have been downright frigid. So I have been forced to become creative and lower my expectations of a comfortable place to read.
This reminds me of my time spent on a Viking long boat with my uncles. You may have heard that long boats are very fast. Fast enough to outpace the boats carrying the poor saps from that little village on the inlet. There are several reasons for the quickness in our boats. One major contributor is the lack of any space you might call comfortable. Everything on the boat was designed with utility in mind. All the objects in the ship add to the practical matters of making a boat move swiftly through the surf.
This makes finding a quiet place to read during our down time very difficult. I did find a few spots to get away. Generally that meant going up in the ropes (not particularly comfortable) or down in the hull (mostly too dark to read). It was difficult to finish a good read, but I managed.
The people who designed our current office had a Viking mentality. There is very little here that does not aid in completing our job. There is a lunch room, but only enough space for about ¼ of the staff. There are bathrooms, but I have yet to take a book in there. And there is a conference room, however it is being used to store back files. So it leaves me one place to get away from my desk and read in relative quiet.
My solution is to walk up the stairs from the third to the fourth and simply stop half way. I stop and find a seat when the stairwell turns 180 degrees. No one in my building walks down the stairs from the fourth floor, hasn’t happened in 3 months.
There are two problems with this plan. Stairs are not really a place to lounge and relax, they are drastically practical. And in the current season the concrete gets cold and stays cold. No amount of newspaper can insulate the frigid seat. When I’m done reading it takes my backside a couple of minutes to regain the proper warmth.
Four months ago my office moved. No doubt it was influenced by the development in the neighborhood we left behind. The biggest problem with the new place is that the closest library branch is not an easy walk away, and there are no park benches anywhere in sight. Add to this picture the fact that the temperatures have been downright frigid. So I have been forced to become creative and lower my expectations of a comfortable place to read.
This reminds me of my time spent on a Viking long boat with my uncles. You may have heard that long boats are very fast. Fast enough to outpace the boats carrying the poor saps from that little village on the inlet. There are several reasons for the quickness in our boats. One major contributor is the lack of any space you might call comfortable. Everything on the boat was designed with utility in mind. All the objects in the ship add to the practical matters of making a boat move swiftly through the surf.
This makes finding a quiet place to read during our down time very difficult. I did find a few spots to get away. Generally that meant going up in the ropes (not particularly comfortable) or down in the hull (mostly too dark to read). It was difficult to finish a good read, but I managed.
The people who designed our current office had a Viking mentality. There is very little here that does not aid in completing our job. There is a lunch room, but only enough space for about ¼ of the staff. There are bathrooms, but I have yet to take a book in there. And there is a conference room, however it is being used to store back files. So it leaves me one place to get away from my desk and read in relative quiet.
My solution is to walk up the stairs from the third to the fourth and simply stop half way. I stop and find a seat when the stairwell turns 180 degrees. No one in my building walks down the stairs from the fourth floor, hasn’t happened in 3 months.
There are two problems with this plan. Stairs are not really a place to lounge and relax, they are drastically practical. And in the current season the concrete gets cold and stays cold. No amount of newspaper can insulate the frigid seat. When I’m done reading it takes my backside a couple of minutes to regain the proper warmth.
Friday, February 4, 2011
Little Sledding Hill
My house growing up had a nice little hill in the back. If you managed the snow and your sled correctly you could slide left across the hill, around the tree, and then edge back toward center to extend the ride. My siblings and I became quite good at building a berm at just the right spot to push us to our goal. It was alot of fun, but I did not know what sledding could be.
Thankfully, as I have grown my sledding has grown with me. I can now say that I have gone down some very big hills and been pulled behind some very strong four by fours. The largest hill I have sled might be more accurately called a mountain. Not the Alps or anything, but a foot hill of the Appalachians. I was driven to the top in the back of truck and we then slid on our stomachs about a mile and a half down a utility road. The only other people we saw were on snow mobiles. It was intense and crazy fun.
The other side of intense and crazy fun is being pulled behind a truck across the snow filled fields of the Amish farm land. (The trucks are provided by our English neighbors). The first time around the field is generally easy and somewhat lazy, but soon there are ruts and waves of snow and everything changes. There’s nothing like the rush of mowing down the remains of corn stocks at about 20 mph behind a truck with all four tires spitting powder.
I have now found a parallel for my city dwelling neighbors. (It was new to me but maybe not to you). This past weekend I enjoyed my first sledding experience down the steps of the PMA. You have seen these steps before when Mr. Balboa ran up them in his grey hoodie. But now you must envision those steps encased in a frozen water fall. Every ninety degree filled with snow and the lip of each step serving as a rumble strip. There are 5 flights with a small landing that gives the rider 2 choices. You can either take the small landing as a place to slow down and establish your balance before moving on, or let the landing be the launch pad for the next set of steps and sail on with ever gaining speed.
I had just come from dinner and was dressed in my earth toned finery, so I opted for the more subdued ride. But even so there was very little subdued about thundering down 72 steps with nothing but a rubber trash can lid protecting you from a snowy grave. I highly recommend it.
Thankfully, as I have grown my sledding has grown with me. I can now say that I have gone down some very big hills and been pulled behind some very strong four by fours. The largest hill I have sled might be more accurately called a mountain. Not the Alps or anything, but a foot hill of the Appalachians. I was driven to the top in the back of truck and we then slid on our stomachs about a mile and a half down a utility road. The only other people we saw were on snow mobiles. It was intense and crazy fun.
The other side of intense and crazy fun is being pulled behind a truck across the snow filled fields of the Amish farm land. (The trucks are provided by our English neighbors). The first time around the field is generally easy and somewhat lazy, but soon there are ruts and waves of snow and everything changes. There’s nothing like the rush of mowing down the remains of corn stocks at about 20 mph behind a truck with all four tires spitting powder.
I have now found a parallel for my city dwelling neighbors. (It was new to me but maybe not to you). This past weekend I enjoyed my first sledding experience down the steps of the PMA. You have seen these steps before when Mr. Balboa ran up them in his grey hoodie. But now you must envision those steps encased in a frozen water fall. Every ninety degree filled with snow and the lip of each step serving as a rumble strip. There are 5 flights with a small landing that gives the rider 2 choices. You can either take the small landing as a place to slow down and establish your balance before moving on, or let the landing be the launch pad for the next set of steps and sail on with ever gaining speed.
I had just come from dinner and was dressed in my earth toned finery, so I opted for the more subdued ride. But even so there was very little subdued about thundering down 72 steps with nothing but a rubber trash can lid protecting you from a snowy grave. I highly recommend it.
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