Action-packed Wednesday

I was up until 1:00 a.m. last night playing cards, and then had to be up at 7:30 in case a contractor showed up early for work on the house.  I was really in no mood to get out of bed, but the cliches are true: the older you get, the harder it is to sleep late.  Once I was up, I was up.

Breakfast was a bowl of cereal with a banana and skim milk.  Every now and then, I try to do better: A bowl of oatmeal with some dried fruit, a breakfast smoothie with protein, or a bagel with salmon, for example.  

And sometimes, I swing the other direction: pancakes, donuts, fritters, kolaches. I have been, in fact, making my own kolaches with artisanal sausages and good cheese or other proteins like leftover brisket or turkey.  Not good for you, but so so satisfying.

But the good old bowl of cereal is a good default for me, especially if I throw in a protein bar before exercising.

After breakfast, I went to Rice University to walk the track around campus, 2.8 miles or so.  I walked with my friend A, who is a great exercise companion, full of interesting conversation and good cheer.  We have gotten faster in our walks, averaging 16 minute miles, which does not impress my trainer, who seems to be expecting us to walk like the Keystone Kops in old silent movies, double-time because the guy cranking the reel wants to get the show over with in time to meet his girl by the wishing well.  I don’t move that fast anymore, not sure if I ever have.

After the walk, off to the gym for a truncated core workout.  A and I teamed up to alternate bear crawls three times around the periphery of the gym.  My trainer is old school - bear crawls, farmers carries, deadlifts, crunches - and he is impervious to whining, which is kind of the point.  I could go online and get any number of workouts that would be effective if done right, but human nature being what it is, we don’t do them right, partially because proper form can be difficult to attain, but mostly because humans don’t like pain.

In short, I pay my trainer to inflict beneficial pain on me.  And he does, with a smile.

The training has helped me a lot.  Not aesthetically - I am still lumpy in all the wrong places (thanks bad breakfasts!) - but I am probably stronger now than I have ever been.

Of course, being strong doesn’t mean the workouts are easier.  I did Russian twists and air-ups while tossing a medicine ball to A, all of which made me whine and gasp and flop around like a dying fish on the really gross floor of the gym.

Eventually, the workout ended and I raced to have lunch with my friend and former work colleague E.  Now working for the City, she is positively radiant, a happy and fulfilled person.  We are dumplings and drank good tea and got caught up with each other’s lives, something we do every other month or so.

We had a fun lunch.  She has her own good exercise plan - no runs longer than a 5K, with an emphasis on consistency and getting faster.  I like this approach because it lessens the risk of injury and is over faster.  My trainer, on the other hand, wants me walking 6 to 9 miles a throw, which is a huge time investment.

“You have dogs,” he says.  “Take them with you. What are you going to do otherwise?  Sit on the couch?”

That is never as persuasive as he thinks it is.  I like my couch.  (Actually, I kind of don’t like my couch - it’s too deep and hard to get up from. But this is why we do squats at the gym.)

After a short nap, I then called my mother and invited her to dinner.  I ended up making sous vide steaks, purple sweet potatoes tossed in maple syrup, and pan-fried sweet plantains (top ten dish for me when done right).  Dinner was a hit and finished with a nice piece of lemon cake my mother brought with her.

We also had some of the pickled green beans I made.  Verdict: Mom and I liked them, tender crisp and tangy - my son and wife HATED them.

That’s a good day.  Tomorrow, guitar lessons!