My nephew Keene – the one whose wedding I went to in Puerto Rico last December – is the oldest of our family’s seven nephews and one niece, and somewhat of the alpha child of the family. Five and a half years older than Sam, he was my first real experience with seeing a child grow up. When he was very small, his parents lived in Greenwich Village, and how I loved going there for visits. I’d encourage his mom and dad to go out for the night, and Keene and I would take to the streets, him in his stroller, visiting pet shops or stopping at a diner for a bite to eat. We’ve always had a special connection. He called me Yashee back then.
Keene’s in Chicago now with his gorgeous wife Kristin, and
he’s almost done with his Master’s in nursing.
Last summer he responded to a Groupon ad for trapeze lessons, and loved
it. Since the cost is a little steep for a grad student, he asked the owner
about working for them, and was hired on to train as a catcher. He describes it as “a combination of
thrill-seeking, an attempt to maintain regular physical activity during school,
and a way of spending some time in something totally unrelated to
healthcare.” He’s noticed a big
improvement in core strength as well as arm and shoulder strength, and watching
these videos, you’ll see why. He’s the
one in the yellow shirt, looking ridiculously calm for someone flying through
the air while hanging from his knees.
Looking for a new fitness plan? We’ve got Trapeze Austin here in town, and I’ll
bet there’s something like it in yours.
It wasn’t even that hot last night, but even on his
45-minute walk, Banks wimped out on me.
St. Ed’s has way too many inviting, broad, cool lawns and it’s just too
tempting for him to stop the walk and
roll around in the grass, as much as anything because it always gets approving
laughs from passers-by. So I was kind of
a hard-ass tonight; we did the Stacy Park hills – nothing but concrete – and I made
him hang with me the whole 90 minutes.
Oh, did I need it tonight. I won’t
go into the unpleasant details but here are the high points: An unscheduled stop at 3:00 at (God help me)
a Cracker Barrel. Child-sized portion of
mac and cheese, because the server made me feel guilty for taking up a table
while just drinking a Diet Coke. Mac and
cheese unexpectedly served with cornbread AND a biscuit. A stop
for gas, and a supersized Reese’s cup.
Return home. Unanticipated craving for peanut butter on rye toast. Somebody
stop me.
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