So, my 10 week fitness program is in its final week. It’s been great. I’ve been inching toward a fitter life for a few years, now — I’ve been hiking for quite a while, and I started lifting weights with old people (in a minor kind of way) a few years ago — but this program convinced me that it was possible to do all kinds of stuff that I really thought was too hard for me. For the final test, I ran a mile (I have not run a mile in probably 25 years). But that is not all! I can do a pushup or two, now (lots, if I do the knee kind). Anyway, it’s kind of fantastic.
Part of the cult protocol is that you have to celebrate your accomplishments. In a fit of madness, I’d signed up a while ago to go on a bird-song hike. On a Tuesday. In Point Reyes. It was nuts — to drive off at the crack of dawn on a work day to go listen to birds, but I’m so glad I did. It felt like a celebration for all the hard work I’ve put in over the course of ten weeks. I’m so much fitter, now, and what better way to celebrate that than by clambering around ouside, on trails and off trails, looking at and listening to stuff? It was great.
And that, above, is the San Andreas fault —
It was lovely out this weekend.
I took a long walk on Saturday and went birding on Sunday, so I was outside for most of the weekend which was wonderful.
Now my head hurts, though. Had to get up too early.
Also I’m a little cold.
And I’m kind of tired.
And it’s time to start thinking about the summer — so that’s a good thing. I do like summer.
It is Friday, and my head hurts.
However, it’s getting kind of late, and maybe the best thing would be to just go home.
Well, perhaps I’ll just leave you with that.
It’s Thursday. I’m glad about that.
My friend B and I are taking a birding class together. It’s really fun, actually. At first I was worried that I had dragged said friend along, but it turns out that she went on the field trip last Sunday while I was out of town and had a good time, and last night at the lecture she was asking interested questions about blackbirds, so maybe my being out of town was a good thing, in that it caused her to make her own connections to the group.
We stopped for dinner after class last night. B. comes to class straight from work, and I come from my exercise class, so we’re both ravenous. We went to a local spot. I had some kind of a delicious cocktail. (I am completely in favor of these hipster delicious cocktails.) We split a kale salad and an asparagus pizza. A good friend of my daughter M works there, and she stopped by — it turns out she had made our salad.
We’d been talking about B’s daughter E, who K and I saw for dinner down in San Diego. I was telling B how grown up E seems all of a sudden, and there was M’s friend, too, looking very grown-up in her chef’s outfit.
This is the part of this business of becoming an old person that I do not mind at all.
I don’t know what is up, but I am so antsy!
Now I have to go to a very boring meeting that really has nothing to do with me — Hmm. I am tired of this nonsense.
Okay, I am off.
Surprisingly nice down there!
I think I might go back. It turns out they have summer there (in April, even). Also it’s possible there are people there who would be willing to go on microadventures with me.
Granted, it may no longer be a microadventure if you have to drive 7 hours to do it. But it may be the closest I can come.
Also, my brother is incredibly patient with my mother. When she asks a question that appears, on the fact of it, to be ridiculous, he just answers it calmly — even if it’s a question I would need to beat back with a flaming broom because it verges on prying. Interesting. It may be that he’s male and I’m female. It may be that he’s the baby, and less annoyed by prying.
In any case, it made me think. Both that maybe I should try to be more patient and less annoyed. Maybe. And also it may have some bearing on why my oldest daughter seems to be more prickly than the youngest. Interesting.
Okay, I’m starving now.
We saw the Oldest’s best friend from high school. She lives there. That was very fun, and now I miss that oldest prickly daughter more than ever. Photographic evidence on the tome de visages reveals that she’s been hiking in the Andes and seems very happy — so that’s good.
We’re flying south tomorrow night. My youngest brother has moved down there, so we’re going to go visit him. My mother will be there, too, and I think her idea may be that we will help him look for houses. While I think I would not want to look for houses assisted by family members, he might feel differently. We shall see. She is very anxious to have him settled.
I think he’s 47, so probably capable of handling this on his own, but he is the baby of the family.
Heaven help him.
I am thinking it might be nice to look for some birds, eat food and lie on the beach.
I’ll report back.