Saturday, April 19, 2014

A Rather Strong Current.

Gnashingly, I informed my roommates last night that I was throwing my silvery bike in the nearest dumpster and asked if they knew anyone who wanted to buy a heavily-used pair of running shoes W9.5, with 15 free partially translucent unmatched stockings, a half a scoop of Tailwind and one expired Stinger waffle with Lance Armstrong's shining face on the package.  I was thinking $48,912 is a fair price on the shoes, how does that sound?

They could also have, for really free, a Nathan pack that has a long history of molestation and sadistic tendencies and my marginally skanky GPS, if they could find it.  It's probably still in Boston, maybe crushed under the uncaring tire of a motorist who had no idea that I would want it back 4 months after abandoning it, probably in a snowbank somewhere west of the arboretum.  

To quote the late Dan Q, "because fuck you, that's why." 

Not to worry, though. This whole cluster of having each of the things that form my identity ripped away one by one is nothing I cannot eat my way through. Maybe the world will mistake my grumpiness for confidence and I'll finally get somewhere. Maybe it's time for that fancy business degree, a power suit, peach-colored bras with underwire, a sedentary life punctuated only by fits of vacuuming, birthing whole slew of screaming babies, and a long overdue foray into corrective orthodontia.

Then as I was falling (asleep) under my usual pile of chemistry problems, sleeping bags, and other things which I never liked anyway, I had a revelation that (*brilliant revelation alert*) I could go really crazy and adjust the seat on the silvery bike and cause way less flexion in the knees.  Then maybe they wouldn't hurt, and then, even though I still am not supposed to run, I could at least enjoy biking again, spine permitting.  

Well, it worked.  Made it around the Thundercastle loop. It was the best thing ever. 

The water may be wide, but how deep could it be?


Thinking of my Traprockers and my Boston Marathoners this weekend! Good luck, everyone. And the rest of my heart and mind are at Brad, at Acadia, and in the Whites -- where I belong.  The rest of me is currently all chemistry, all the time right now. I will crush these redox reactions. I will eat them alive.  As Zach DLR said, we gotta take the powah back! 

Wednesday, April 16, 2014


No data for today. No specific reason.

I had written "return to running" on my calendar for today.

That was a month ago.

Tuesday, April 15, 2014

Q part 2.

Sending love into the windy night.

Talked to some of the OGs and got more information about the death. Everyone agrees that suicide was unsurprising, that we all saw it coming, that he is finally as close to peace as he'll ever be. It's still such a strange thing.  Rest in peace, or in your equivalent thereof, Q.


Today's notes:
Spine was much better in the afternoon and evening once again. I didn't even take drugs after my initial morning druggage.  And even with it, driving to bio and bio class were terribly painful.  I came close to just packing up and heading home but then I wondered, would home feel less awful?  But then mysteriously there was improvement in the afternoon. Could have been any number of reasons.

Hips are pretty good today and I'm thrilled to be walking much more normally. Not gimp free but close this evening! What will the morning bring?  Why are my mornings so horrendous?

Interesting symptoms du jour: pain is duller but radiating more. Some interesting gut pain all day near areas of injury. Left foot seems to have a heard time getting warm and has has a spot near the top of the foot/base of 1st toe that is experiencing nerve-related stuff (tingling sensation).  This has been going on for a few days, more noticeable today.

Holy data collection.  I think we're almost done.  I hope.  The morning misery can't last forever...
Getting there...

Anyway, again - screw all that.  My mind keeps wandering to Q.

Monday, April 14, 2014

Q. Alt V7.

Changing topics briefly now to discuss what's actually on my mind:

How can we cure them without breaking them?

Q methodically placed a bullet through his skull after a lifelong struggle with a major depressive illness. I'll remember his wonderful laugh, Pam's birthday at recital lab, and snowshoeing just last year when we realized we'd known each other for years but never really hung out until then. The other stuff isn't important.

Actually, it IS important. Will we as a community ever figure out how to help our fire-hearted, terminally-mentally-ill neighbors?

I listen all the time to the four Macrofuser tunes from the old demo. Sometimes I still wear the slightly tattered shirt. It is comforting to know I'll always have this snapshot of Dan's strengths. His own art.

Sending love to his friends and wishing there'd been some way for him to just hang on.