Tag: gym

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personal

Logan’s 47

Human Interaction

My gym’s shutting down our location for a number of reasons, COVID-19 being one. Ideally, it’s only temporary.

The owner posted that he, his wife, and Chad would be cleaning the place up that afternoon so I decided to finally venture out.

Took my electric scooter down Broadway and it was glorious. The city’s still mostly empty.

Made it to the gym in less than 30 mins. Woulda been sooner but I kept taking pictures and gawking at things. I’d not been outta the house in a meaningful way for over a month.

Walking into the gym felt exceedingly normal.

Owner: Logan! How you doing? Hey, do you smell something?
Me: (cautiously) Yes? What is that?
Him: OK, right before you walked in, I found this bottle in this locker. So, I shook it…
Me: Oh god…

Chad was there along with the other owner helping out.

Chad: How’re you?
Me: (laughing) I think this is the first time I’ve heard my own voice in about two days. Definitely the first time I’ve had any real human interaction in weeks.

Presently other people showed up.

Me: I gotta ask, did you find a bat in your apartment?
Her: (laughs) Yes. I’m the cause of this whole thing!
Me: I need to know more.

I’d gone out after a few minutes to get beer for the guys but I left my face mask at the gym, not thinking it’d be too much of an issue.

Store 1 staff: Sorry, we can’t let you in without a mask.
Me: S’ok. I respect your putting the safety of your people before short-term profit.

Store 2 staff: Sorry, we can’t let you in without a mask.
Me: While I respect your putting the safety of your people before short-term profit, I just wanna get a six-pack.
Staff: Sorry.

Store 3 staff: Sorry, we can’t let you in without a mask.
Me: WhileIrespectYourPuttingTheSafetyOfYour PeopleBeforeShort-termProfit, I just wanna get a six-pack.
Staff: Sorry.

Store 4 staff: Sorry, we can’t let you in without a mask.
Me: (walking quickly past guard to beer section) WhileIrespectYourPuttingTheSafetyOfYourPeopleBeforeShort- termProfit,IJustWannaGetASix-pack. Here’s a 20, keep the change.

I’m not (terribly) proud.

Owner: (looking at beer) Why’d you get watery-beer for us?
Me: First of all, I’m watching my weight, second of all, shut up, you wouldn’t believe what I went through to get this beer.

Just shopping made me run out of breath. This sickness really took a lot outta me.

More people came and left. Everyone practiced safe social distancing.

Soon, it was my turn to go.

Had an interesting ride back but it’s getting late so I’ll tell you about that some other time.

Right around when I got in the door, got a message from the owner:

Him: You classy bastard. You left those last two beers here. That shows good breeding and manners. You’d be surprised how many people don’t have that.
Me: Ha, really? Who takes the last two beers they brought for the group? My parents didn’t raise me that way, homie.
Him: You’d be amazed.

I was so engrossed in my thoughts that I almost tripped over a box on my doorstep.

Mouse sent me a gift for my birthday. She hadn’t contacted me in weeks, not until I got sick, anyway. Suppose that’s her story to tell.

I picked up the box and brought it home. When I opened the door, I yelled out:

Hey, I’m back!

But got nuthin in return. Harold’s still not speaking to me and the boy’s still away. Still, hope – and madness – springs eternal.

I’m 47 years-old by the time you read this sentence.

One, holy shitballs.

Two, hooray.

Location: my empty apartment, now with a box and lots of taco wrappers
Mood: empty also
Music: been roaming around, always looking down (Spotify)
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personal

Needlepoint

Que Sera Sera


I kept a couple pills of Alison’s super strong painkillers for emergencies.

Well, this past Saturday, I had that emergency.

I’ve only ever left the mat three times: Once when my ACL was torn, once when this girl neck-cranked me in 2011, and again this past Saturday when that same girl-now-woman arm-barred me.

I should mention that she’s ranked eight levels above my level.

In any case, she and I now run around in the same circle of friends so we’ve hung around socially before. But we’ve only ever met on the mat maaaybeee 20 times, tops?

Probably more about 10 times. And one time was that neck-crank time.

She’s actually a very sweet girl woman that’s now an instructor. But on the mat, something turns off in her head and she just gets super aggro.

Normally, the more experienced people are more chill but with her, I have to stay on my toes just to not get killed.

Anywho, this past Saturday, she  gets my arm in what’s called an armbar and I immediately hear: POP-POP  in my elbow and am blinded with pain.

The whole thing took less than one second; the Gymgirl was watching and she said it happened insanely fast.

The Gymgirl had her own injury not that long ago and she talked to me as I left the mat.

Me: (hopefully) Maybe it’s not so bad, it doesn’t hurt all that much right now.
Gymgirl: It’s cause you’re fulla adrenaline. When it wears off, then you’ll know how you really feel.

Well, the Gymgirl knew what she was talking about.

Right around Columbus Circle, I almost doubled over in pain. Made it home and immediately popped one of those pills I was saving up.

Both the woman and the coach wrote me that night and the day after to check in on me, which I appreciated.

She’s genuinely remorseful, as is the coach. Now usually, I’d just say que sera sera and just move on with my life.

But I’m a (single) dad now and I can’t afford to go to the ER for what is, essentially, a hobby.

Me: I think she’s is a bit too wild for me to roll with. So, I feel – for my own safety – that I have to ask that I never roll with her again.
Coach: That’s understandable. I’ll keep you two away from rolling. I’m sorry again.
Me: Thanks. I appreciate it. I’ll be fine. I don’t think anything is broken. Also, painkillers are lovely.

On that note, I gotta say that I understand why people can get addicted to painkillers.

Just taking care of the boy for the past 24 hours has been ridic difficult.

Me: (picking up son from bath and hurting arm (again)) @#$@#$@#!!!!
Son: (laughing) @#$@#$@#!
Me: No! Fiddlesticks! Say, oh, fiddlesticks!
Him: (laughs)
Me: (sighing, wincing) This is not good at all. I should take up something like needlepoint.
Him: Needlepoint.

As an aside, I have to say that I’m still getting used to the stark differences between my current and old coach.

When I tore my ACL and got neck-cranked, my old coach blamed me for both of them.

I remember lying on the mat in a haze – the same mat that I was lying on this past weekend, actually – with a completely torn ACL and my coach was yelling at me, “Why didn’t you relax!? You’re fine. If you tore your ACL, you’d know it.”

And with the neck-crank he simply said that I shouldn’t have let her touch my neck.

The more distance I have from that relationship, the more I realize how toxic it all was.

Oh well, que sera sera…

Location: my white drawer, rationing my last two painkillers and rotating my ice packs
Mood: ouchie
Music: Now I have children of my own

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business personal

Still Running

Humans survived because we ran

With nods to 0utre who cheered me up yesterday while I was hanging out in Stressville.

Been working out like mad but gaining weight!

The late night eating and drinking. I was out and about again tonight only briefly because I’m sick.

Just as well, I gotta cut all that out.

My roomie (ah, betcha didn’t know I had one) said Harvard has this new theory why humans are on top of the food chain:

Humans survived, not because they are smarter than other animals, but because we can run longer than any animal. No animal, not even horses or dogs, can run the distances a man can run when put to task.

Marathon Marathons.

We hunted until the animals just gave up.

We survived because we ran. It is in our nature.

Until I’m breathless and weak, I’m running. Towards what?

No idea.

But, dammit, I’m running.

Location: -30, stumbling home
Mood: stressed
Music: She is raging and the storm blows up in her eyes
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business personal

Reflecting

 A lot’s happened and it’s only Monday

View from inside Grey's Papaya's on 72nd and Broadway

Someone just sang to me. It was very sweet. It just happened so I guess I’ll write about it later.

Spent the day returning to my normal life. Last week was…interesting, to say the least. I think my earliest night ended at 1 AM. Here’s a brief recap:

  • Had dinner on Tuesday with a potential candidate for NYS Senator – I’m going to be his internet strategist.
  • Was out until 3AM drinking rum in the middle of the week with the third ranked amateur middleweight NHB fighter in the country. The night ended when we tried to pick fights with bigger people (ok, that didn’t happen – but just imagine!)
  • Traveled upstate to visit a burned out building and a vast tract of land.
  • Spent four hours in the gym in one day.
  • Slept a total of 30 hours for the week.
  • Got elbowed in the head (accident) and I actually saw those birds you see in the cartoons.

Quite a week – it’s only Monday and I’ve already a song in my head.

Wonder what’s in store for me this week?

Location: @11:36 PM yest., on the phone in my pad, listening
Mood: grateful
Music: It’s bad enough we get along so well

Categories
personal

Sneakers and Coin

I’m not vain, just realistic

I’ll be traveling this week. Recently, though, I ran.

I’m not a runner, at all. But I found out that I’m 13.9% bodyfat. Unacceptable. Lexxy-pie‘s jumping rope like mad but that’s not for me.

People think I’m vain. I’m not. Just self-conscious. I have good reason to be, because, in 20 years, I’ve never forgotten how much coin people put on physical appearance.

Was a fat kid, you see. Really fat; 5’3″ and 183 pounds. Hella fat. Only for three years but they were the worst years: 12-14. Right when you discover chicks. No fun there.

The sneakers you see above came in the other day. I laced them up and I ran.

Man, I hate it. But I’ll do it. Until I’m breathless and weak, I’ll do it.

Because in 20 years, I’ve never forgotten how much coin people put on physical appearance.

Location: @10AM yesterday, going to the post
Mood: drained
Music: you want someone who truly loves you I will be the one

Categories
personal

Spring cleaning

I’ve got to learn to duck

That was unpleasant. I gotta learn to duck (warning: kinda gross – do not click if squeamish).

It’s just as well, I need to stay home and clean up. I bought myself what I think is the best canister vacuum, yet I haven’t used it once, I’m going to use it, I just don’t know when.

Her: Spring cleaning, eh? I wanna do that too. BTW, so many people are single these days, a friend called me yesterday to tell me that he and his girl just split up.
Me: Well, two friends of mine just got into relationships and someone I know just got back with an ex. But I think it’s all part of the same thing: spring cleaning.

Something about spring makes you wanna examine your stuff. The spring light sharpens things dull from the winter. You can see what’s worth working on and what’s gotta go. Doesn’t matter if they’re comic books, handbags, or relationships.

Last spring was terrible for me.

This spring, things are looking much better.

Excuse the mess – it’s I’m still a work in progress.

Location: @8:45 PM, on the UWS playing with sharp things
Mood: thankful
Music: if you’re gonna do it do it right do it with me
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