If you decide to learn how to knit, you will suddenly run into a gaggle of fiber enthusiasts.
If you give up meat, 25 vegetarians will squash their way into your circle.
If your “thing” includes dressing up in a college mascot uniform and making out with other people wearing big furry suits, well, there’s a tribe out there waiting for you!
I know I’m not telling you anything new when I mention that the world is a big place, yet it’s also wonderfully (and sometimes alarmingly) small.
This morning I had my annual physical exam. I fasted for 14 hours before the exam. (I slept for 7 of those 14 hours, so I realize that I sound sort of ridiculous when confessing that the fast was tricky.)
This was the trickiest part of the fast:
Me: AUGH! I can’t eat!
Jeff: What’s wrong? Do you want a bowl of Blueberry Morning?
Me: I’M FASTING AND YES I WOULD LOVE A BOWL OF BLUEBERRY MORNING!!! INTENTIONAL DRAMATIC ARM FLOURISH!!!
During the appointment, my doctor asked what I do for exercise, and for the first time EVER, I didn’t have to lie and tell him that I’m thinking about signing up for some sort of class at the J.
Me: I’ve been running two or three times each week!
Come to find out, he’s a runner, too. (Not a knitter. Not a vegetarian. Not a furry make-out weirdo.) ((Wait. I’m not a furry make-out weirdo, either. Sometimes I just type and type and the next thing I know? I’m no longer representing myself very well.)) (((My doctor just might be a knitter, a vegetarian, and/or a furry make-out weirdo. We did not cover those things during my appointment. There’s never enough time to touch on all topics when you’re having your blood pressure taken (106/60!) and your heart rate checked (60!)))) I suppose it shouldn’t surprise me that a doctor runs. Practicing what you preach and all that. (Wait. Did you notice that I sort of referred to myself as a runner at the beginning of this paragraph? My next run is my “graduation” run, during which I’ll run for 30 minutes without stopping.)
Anyway, we talked about the minimalist running movement and how it’s okay to sit in the middle of the spectrum between running barefoot and running in ridiculously supportive shoes. (He likened it all to politics, and I cringed, and suddenly my blood pressure shot up and I started bleeding out of my ears because I’m really getting nervous about this election, People. (By the way, thanks for your comments yesterday. If you didn’t comment? Please do. I’m loving the comments. Wait. Let me type the word comment one more time. Comment.))
To improve my crazy town sleep issues, which I haven’t really discussed here because I bore you enough with the headache thing, he told me that I need to get between three and five hours of exercise each week. (I’m about 2/3 of the way to three hours.)
To reduce my risk of running injuries, he told me that I should try to increase my steps per minute, which will force a shorter stride and will eliminate the jarring that occurs when one strikes with the heel.
He keeps his stride at 80 steps per minute.
I asked how he keeps track of this.
He said that he counts his steps for 15 seconds, multiplies it by four, and then maintains the pace.
I told him that I’m very slow and inconsistent, but that I was interested in this idea. I then pictured myself running with a metronome attached to the top of my head.
(I often picture myself running with only one leg and a bunch of half-fingers.)
This has nothing to do with anything, but look what I found today:
I can’t remember the last time we had alcohol in the house.
We currently have alcohol in the house.