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Oh, God, do you know how TIRED I am tonight?  Normally I can't wait to blog, the day just doesn't seem complete without it, but about ten minutes ago, after I got back home with Banks, I stumbled back to my room, couldn't wait to go to bed (it's 8:20!), then remembered I hadn't blogged yet, and since I took off yesterday, I couldn't go two days without writing anything, so....

I didn't sleep well last night, and I think I sensed over the lunch hour that tonight could be a challenge, so I took a 1.2 mile walk -- I measured it later -- over lunch, then after dinner tonight (an ENORMOUS baked chicken breast that I shared with Banks, and white rice, both of which are now settled uncomfortably in my midsection) I waddled, uh, walked another 3.8 miles and here I am, bleary-eyed, almost too tired to take out my contacts, and dying to get to bed.  I need to check the weather -- is there pollen, or cedar, or mold, or something out there?

Oh, but I have to tell you about Janette's birthday!  We had dinner at Carmelo's, and every single dish was so fantastic, but man was it rich!  Maybe that's what today is all about -- maybe the escargots, wine, lasagne, bread, and garlic are still in there and draining the life out of me.  It was worth it.  And for dessert, Janette wanted Bananas Foster, which I've never had before, but it was divine.  I took a few pictures of the tableside presentation, but alas, missed the big flame.  I have a new favorite dessert, and it doesn't contain a drop of chocolate.

Look out, World....

Okay, let me hurry up and recreate yesterday’s walk before it’s gone forever.  We did it early, about 8:30ish, I think.  This time I brought Banks and nothing else, didn’t want to listen to music or a Fresh Air or This American Life podcast, just wanted to keep all distracting noise out of my head while I meditated on the car issue.  It’s funny how that process works – I don’t start out thinking, I’ve got to solve this problem, and I’ll use the next hour and a half to come up with a bunch of solutions.  I just start walking, let my mind wander where it wanders, and it DOES wander, freely and creatively, and when I came back, I had no less than six pretty decent ideas.  It was the most unfocused and freewheeling walk we’ve taken in months, following no particular routes that we’ve blazed before, and maybe that’s part of my “process.”  Could someone please come up with a new phrase for “thinking outside the box,” which I think matches the metaphor I’m struggling to articulate here.

This morning I also didn’t take my phone, but only because it was dead, but who needed musical or talk support when the weather was sunny and cold and fabulous?  Banks and I walked took two separate trails through the woods, then down to Stacy Park, and when we got back it was exactly 1.5 hours.  I’ve got the day off and here’s my first order of business.  Jackson, Banks and I are going back to those woods, and I’m going to have Jackson snap some pictures of me and Banks for match.com.  Isn’t that what they say you’re supposed to do?  Show yourself in different settings so potential dates see the different sides of you?  Outdoorsy, sexy, social, zany, contemplative…..I think I’ll wait to get a few photos of myself in New Orleans over Thanksgiving to really round things out.  Look out, world.   

Skyfall, the new James Bond movie I saw last night, was GREAT!  Even if you’re not normally an action movie fan, which I’m not, it’s a blast from start to finish – it was just under 2 ½ hours, and while I usually get fidgety at about two hours, I was never bored, and was even disappointed when it was over.  Even more fun, just as we were entering the theater, Dan Rather was coming out. 

Decisions, decisions

You didn't think I'd let that three-mile walk on Thursday suffice, did you?  Friday at 4:30, I left the office in my T-shirt and shorts, and went to the trail.  I walked two hours.  Then this morning, with Banks, I walked 1:45, and I figure I'm back up to speed. 

I spent a disheartening couple of hours today worrying myself to death over my car.  It's nine years old, and I love it -- it's one of the earliest Priuses -- and I've always bragged that "I never have to do anything to it except change the oil!"  Which is mostly true, but time is catching up with me.  A couple of days ago I had the heart-stopping sensation of feeling it start to die when I was caught in stop-and-go traffic.  Oh My God, I thought!  That's exactly what happened a few years ago when I had to replace the (small) battery.  But then I looked at the little plastic reminder at the top left of my windshield.  Yikes.  I'm supposed to have the oil changed every 5,000 miles, and it's been almost 8,000.  For eight years, I've never fallen behind on regular oild changes, but since starting my walk and my blog, this is the second time I've forgotten about it.  For months.  I think I'm beginning to understand what people mean when they tell me they simply could never find the time to walk five miles every day.  Yes you could, I insist.  If I can find the time, anyone can find the time.  But I also think it takes a lot of mental energy; I focus so much on doing it, figuring out when to do it, and what I"m going to write about, that I guess other things just fall by the wayside.  Like routine car maintenance.

So the mechanic handed me the sad news that on top of the $30-ish for the oil change, I need $800 worth of two new tires, struts (what are struts?), an alignment.....help me, Jesus.  I'm at that place where we all get eventually with our cars:  Do you pour significant amounts of money into it, or cut your losses and get a new one?  I'm still mulling that one over.  I'm going to wait til after Thanksgiving to make any final decisions.

A cold front is moving in even as I write, and I can't wait to do my walk tomorrow.  It's going to be a quiet night with just me, Banks and the book we've chosen for Book Club:  A Terrible Splender.

Pagliacci and Me

I know I fell short of my five yesterday, I'm just not sure how much.  I had two early morning commitments, and didn't have time to walk before work, and then had the opera right after work, so had no choice but to do it over lunch.  Only problem is, I'd forgotten my gear, so I just struck out towards downtown in my work clothes.  My consignment-store Pradas are very comfortable, but apparently are not designed for five mile walks; they started cutting into the area just below my toes, so I veered into the library on Guadalupe, made a point of climbing all the stairs they had, ducked into the bathroom, and stuffed some toilet paper into my shoes as a buffer.  I looked ridiculous, the toilet paper didn't help, and I gave up after another mile or so.  Since I'd forgotten to look at the clock when I left (I was seriously off my game yesterday) I don't know how far I went but it was closer to three than five, I'd wager.

Who cares?  The opera was incredible, the most enjoyable one I've ever gone to.  Part of that was that we had great seats.  My friend Matt got the second ticket (compliments of Janette), and it was open seating in the mezzanine.  I got there at 6:00, weedled my way into the ushers' circle, told them how desperately I wanted the front row and made a few friends.  When it was time to open the doors at about 6:45, one of them gave us the nod, we gulped down the last of our wine, went to the appropriate door and raced to front row center.  The music was beautiful, I loved the scenery, and it was just so much fun watching Janette as the innkeeper; she was part of the chorus, but was onstage most of the time, and just has this effervescence, this presence.

Janette had told me that there were not going to be any backstage visits, but one of the ushers -- my new best friends -- told me that there had been a last-minute decision to allow visitors backstage, and gave detailed instructions as to how to get to the dressing rooms.  So we went backstage, and not only hung out with Janette, but met all of the principals -- Nedda, Canio, Tonio and Silvio!  "Silvio" speculated about what he'd do if someone stabbed his wife -- he hoped he'd be a little more heroic than his character -- and showed us pictures of his adorable five-month-old son. 

A fun and magical night, and I decided that dress rehearsals are tons more fun than actual performances.  Can't wait til April -- Janette has already promised me tickets to Faust!

Indulge

Are there certain foods that you cannot keep in your house? Foods that you know you can't resist?  The two that really stand out for me are 1) ice cream, and 2) saltine crackers. Those rectangular boxes with four rectangular "sleeves" filled with probably 50 crackers each?  I will sit and eat them mindlessly until they're all gone.  They are flour and water, for God's sake! They have no taste whatsoever!  But I can't stop eating them.  Ice cream, of course, is self-explanatory.  I will bring it home as a special treat for Jackson and me, but only in pint size (which we share) or better yet, in those individual little servings. 

But last night was the election, and I had to have some kind of dessert, so I tried out a new one -- a peanut butter and chocolate concoction by Reeses.  It was decadent and delicious.  Most of it got eaten, but there was a healthy serving of it left at the end of the night.  So what do you think I had for breakfast this morning?  A big mug of peanut butter and chocolate ice cream! Set off beautifully by a handful of pistachio nuts!  What a way to start the day!

But there is a happy ending to this story.  As I sat in my recliner, stupefied by sugar, digesting the election results AND my ridiculous "breakfast," I realized all was not lost.  Not yet, anyway.  I grabbed Banks, the leash and a plastic bag, and headed over to St. Ed's. The morning (6:20) was beautifully clear and cold, cold enough that I kept my Old Navy fleece hoodie on the whole time.  It was the best walk I've had in ages. I walked fast, kept seeking out hills and charging up them.  I'd find a building with a steep set of stairs, and go up and down them. Banks couldn't figure out what was going on.  I'd had two big cups of coffee, and they came calling pretty quickly.  I ducked into the woods and did my business.  Then we did a few circles around the soccer field where the girls' team was practicing, and headed home.

Well, I wasn't finished yet.  On the way to work, I stopped at McDonald's and had a greasy and disgusting(ly delicious) sausage biscuit with egg.  And another large coffee.  Who knows what horrors lunchtime may hold?

But here's the thing -- I don't feel defeated, or like a screw-up, and I don't hate myself.  I'm actually in a great mood. I'll do better tomorrow. Today was a setback. You gotta give in to it sometimes.  It's okay to be human, with everything self-destructive, noble, funny, pathetic, inspiring and mediocre that comes along with it. It's just one of those days.

Banks presented me with an irresistable photo op this morning after our walk.  He's the mirror image of the dog in the framed photo above him.

Marketing

What a great feeling, to look at the clock while sipping that first cup of coffee, knowing my walk is completed and now all I have to worry about is who will be the leader of the free world.

I guess I'm still on regular, not DST, because I was wide awake at 4:00am. Since I'm having a small election-night gathering tonight, and didn't want to host it sweaty, I jumped out of bed, and Banks and I were out the door by 4:15.  We were a block in when I realized I'd forgotten a poop bag, but kept going -- all the way down Congress, west on Cesar Chavez, and back up the hill, but this time on South 1st. We had a kind of funny/cute encounter on So. Congress -- a homeless guy was taking a whiz against one of the buildings, and as Banks and I got closer -- close enough to hear AND see what was going on -- he said "Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't see you!" I assured him it was fine and my virtue remained intact. But just by the tone of his voice, I could tell he was a "gentleman" -- how on earth did it end like this for him?

Yesterday I took a deep breath and emailed Pam LeBlanc from the Austin-American Statesman.  Every Monday she writes a column on fitness, spotlighting one sport/exercise/discipline every week, and also includes a short blurb called "Fit Folks" which, in 100 words or less, describes what the contributor does to stay in shape.  I wrote a paragraph about Banks and me and our walk, and included a link to the blog.  She seemed to like it, wrote back and said she'd be happy to use it, but that it usually takes 4-6 weeks.  I emailed her back, ballsily, to explain that my blog ended on Dec. 31, I was hoping to publicize it, and was there any way I could jump the line?  SHE wrote back that it wouldn't be fair to the other contributors who were all anxiously waiting to see their own stories in print, and besides, what's the point of publicizing a blog that's about to end?  Pam!  The thing won't be "about to end" if you publish it next week, and besides, don't you realize the whole point of all this is to gain readership for my blog???  She was very sweet and very polite but it is what it is.  So keep any eye out for "Fit Folks" over the next few week.

25 hours

I'm glad that I totally forgot today starts Daylight Savings Time, because otherwise, I probably would have been lulled into a sense of "I've got all day and then some."  It was probably about 63 degrees when I left the house at what I thought was 8:30am, but was actually 7:30, and so beautiful and clear outside that I scrapped my original plan to go Bankless so I could get a better workout. We walked down St. Ed's Drive, took a left into the woods, planning to come out on the other side, but um, I swear someone has tinkered with the trails in there, and I got kind of lost, so we just backtracked, came back onto St. Ed's, I dropped him off at home, and THEN took my "me first" walk for the remaining 45 minutes.  I didn't do the hills this time, but there are some little sloping places around the park,and without Banks to slow me down, I can really get some momentum going.

As I watched the other early morning walkers with their dogs, something occurred to me. Banks does not have the same kind of walk experience that other dogs do. Their owners stroll, carry a cup of coffee, indulge their dogs' every sniff and search impulse, stop and chat with other walkers along the way. With his long extended leash, Banks gets a little leeway, but for the most part, I march right along, breaking stride only when Banks has to pee or poop.  I wonder how many times during a walk I yank impatiently on his collar.  Poor Banks.  Yes, he's in fabulous shape -- that dog is pure, sleek muscle -- but talk about "smelling the roses!"  Or not.  Come January 1, with a new fitness plan in place (which continues to evade me), my walks -- at least the ones with Banks -- are going to be more relaxed affairs, soul-nourishing and social, rather than so focused on accomplishment. Also shorter.