February 18th, 2010

literature charlotte some spider

what followed looks like the sun was praying for a gun

My body is claiming it needs a break, so today we will have somewhat less strenuous exercise, like walking home from the garage off I drop off the Moby Smurfberry today to get that *(&(*&^*& heating fan fixed before it takes my head off one of these days.

I woke up this morning with that bone-deep muscle-and-bone tired that tells me it's time to have a recovery day. My hands ache from climbing yesterday (I am learning new hold-handling skills, including slopers, some very sketchy crimpers (Brien who owns the gym was saying he wants to do a workshop on friction-based crimper-handling skills, which are easier on your finger tendons), big stretchy pinches, and gastons, and it all makes my hands hurt like whoa.) and the rest of my meat is very reluctant to do anything except lie in bed and stretch this morning. Poor meat; it works hard, and for very little reward.

It would like cake, please. And there is no cake to be had. (Although perhaps brownies this weekend after skiing. Skiiing earns brownies. We are skiing because the caving trip has been cancelled due to hibernating bats. I have never been skiing before. I expect I will hate it, break my neck, and suck like nobody's business, but I'm open to being wrong.)

It also wants fish and tofu and beans and eggs and yogurt and milk red meat now, please. And some leafy greens. And avocados. And those things it is allowed to have (the red meat and eggs within reason), so at least it's happy about that, although it would like a great deal MORE of all of them than I am giving it. (FEED ME SARDINES, says the meat. FEED ME LIVERWURST. FEED ME SPINACH AND DARK LEAFY GREENS. At least my meat has a well-honed sense of what is good for it, between the brownies anyway.)

The Discipline has been good for about half a stone so far, though I've been dancing around my current weight for about a week at this point. On the other hand, eight pounds down and I can already see a difference in my climbing. And running. Of course, eight pounds is a lot. Eight pounds is a gallon of milk. A gallon of milk is heavy. It's much easier to climb an forty-foot wall when you are not carrying a gallon of milk.

If I lose much more weight I am going to need a new climbing harness.  

If only it wasn't so very obvious that being lighter makes physical performance easier.

Apparently, this is still The Weekend, according to my brain. We're thinking very hard about this last quarter of a book we have to write, but we're not actually putting words on page.

Well, thinking is writing, too.



public accountablity

2/12: running (40 minutes), yoga (20 minutes), climbing and belaying (2 hours)
2/13: running (24 minutes), yoga (30 minutes)
2/14: running (33 minutes)
2/15: climbing and belaying (2 hours), yoga (20 minutes)
2/16: shoveling snow (30 minutes), running (30 minutes)
2/17: climbing and belaying (2 hours), yoga (20 minutes)
2/18: yoga (20 minutes), walking (35 minutes) (I am giving myself credit in advance, yes.)

127.7 miles to Isengard
hustle ash really

please don't tell what train i'm on

My characters are chasing their conversational tails in circles.

I'll fix it later.

I'm sure something important just happened, but I have no clue what it is.

I'll fix that later, too.

The nice thing about words on paper is that even if they are the wrong words on paper, you can always go back and change them for the right words eventually.

Yeah, I failed day off, but I did manage something like 40 hours without writing. Just, you know. Not actually any complete calendar days.


294 / 400 pages. 74% done!