When you get up at 5:30am to work on projects and the first thing that your computer tells you is: “There has been a fatal error in InDesign. The program is shutting down.” it probably means that you should go back to bed.
Instead I sigh, re-open the program, and check to see how much of my progress has been recovered. There is enough there to satisfy me, – I save like a fiend, having been duped by crashing Adobe software before.
The morning is dark and slow and feels like a secret that I get to keep all to myself. I am retraining myself to get up at 5:00am and progress is coming in baby steps. On a Stumptown Tuesday I can muster 5:20 but today I slipped a little and couldn’t pull off an Escape from Bed Island until 5:30. I’ve found that sleeping in soft, long yoga pants and a form-fitting cashmere sweater helps – socks, too. The warmer I am when I pull the covers back, the more likely I am to stumble down stairs and flip the switch on the coffee maker.
Sam did the fast ride last night and the small group of six riders had one guy flat twice. He insisted on repairing the tube instead of taking the new one that Sam offered him so everyone had to wait. They were slowed down considerably and didn’t finish the loop until 8:15pm when it had already been dark for an hour. I was waiting for a post-yoga pick-up in the NW and started to worry when I didn’t hear from him.
I can’t stand waiting for anything so I just started walking home. It’s about a 6 mile walk but I figured he’d call at some point and could pick me up wherever I was.
Dark night. Fall air. Weather still just nice enough that people are dining outside. 23rd is crawling with couples and groups, Glisan is sprinkled with cozy looking establishments – restaurants in old PDX style homes with people chatting on patios. The Blue Moon had all it’s doors open wide and you could see the warm glow of the pool table lights illuminating eyes that were creased in laughter.
I was half-high from yoga and coming down slowly. It was my first time with this instructor and she’d really helped me understand some things I’d been missing. I pushed poses further and further and relished in the feeling of my strong body balanced beneath me.
I crossed over the freeway with elation flowing up from my feet and shooting out of my modified, stripey, punk-rock pigtails.
About 3 miles into my walk Sam called and drove downtown to pick me up. I’d left my bike at work, being too paranoid to lock it up outside the yoga place. He was starving and on the brink of crashing when he got me as he’d neglected to bring food with him on the ride.
I gave him hell (he’s so shitty at nutrition and he asks his body to do impossible things without giving it fuel!) and then bought him an Odwalla Protein Drink at New Seasons Grocery on Divion. I gave him a small energy bar to go with the protein and bought 12 Clif Bars so he wouldn’t have any more excuses to trash his strong little body.
You could see him relax and enliven as the calories and sugar began to hit his bloodstream.
We drove home and he made me braised fish in Coconut broth with potatoes, baby tomatoes, lemongrass, and Forest Nameko mushrooms. It was 10:00pm when we fell into an unmade bed and closed our eyes. Our muscles are screaming this morning and it’s Friday.
Sam makes his cyclocross debut Sunday morning at the Battle of Barlow. Bring the hurt!
Happy Friday. Stretch your bones, it’s time to cause some trouble.