Dearest Rachel –
While I’ve told you a number of times about how my body and mind don’t get along with each other on this subject (if nothing else, my body has insisted that it doesn’t think it’s getting much out of the bargain but aches and pains, to which my mind counters that the body doesn’t do any of the thinking to begin with, and has no right to speak on the subject), I’ve tried to commit myself to a regular routine when it comes to working out; Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, if at all possible.
It’s also proven necessary to get up early in order to ‘knock up’ Logan yet again. It seems that the requirement for him to be at work by seven was due to being part of a meeting among his company’s worldwide offices; however, due to the impact of a local monsoon, it seems that the India branch has been unable to participate for the last couple of days. Until they can, he has to continue to report in early, just in case they’re available. At least he gets the benefit of being permitted to knock off early as a recompense.
Which is about where the topic of this letter comes in. There’s a certain sense in putting in one’s gym time first thing in the morning, as it happens; if nothing else, you find yourself thinking that you’ll be dealing with nothing more grueling for the rest of the day, making it all seem that much easier in comparison. It also means that, when I take my morning shower, I actually do so knowing that I’ve got something to wash off, even if it is only a pint or two of sweat. You used to assert that I bathed (or, more particularly, shampooed) myself too frequently for the amount of actual dirt and grime I accumulated (which is to say, not much); nowadays, you wouldn’t be making such a claim.
However, starting the day by running at full pelt first thing poses its own problems, chief of which is that, at some point, you have to slow down and recover. You can’t go at full speed the whole time. But it’s precisely at that moment when the resolve and motivation completely drain out of you. When I get out of the shower, dress myself, and assemble whatever there is available for breakfast, the act of sitting down to eat leaves me in such a state that I sometimes lose the will to get back up. At least the dining room chairs aren’t as comfortable as the recliner, and I occasionally have to get up to fetch another ‘part of my complete breakfast’ (as those old cereal commercials would put it; remember those days?), otherwise I might not have the energy to get back up, let alone start the real part of my day.
After all, while I may not have a paying job and a demanding boss (nor do I need either of them, thankfully), there are those more informal commitments I have with other people (and things, for that matter; it turns out that my car keeps telling me that my rear passenger tire is low on air. I just replaced that not long ago; I’m going to have to get that looked at soon). There are the books for both church and camp; while I may not have all the data I need to get started on either of them yet, that situation might change at any moment, and I need to be where I can deal with them best. Moreover, I have stuff to pick up for my folks on my way over; Mom just sent a text asking me to drive through the prescription window at their local pharmacy, as Dad is still resting (much how I might wish to). Indeed, I may need to drive her to her spa appointment, if Dad doesn’t feel up to doing so. So, yeah… there’s no opportunity for me to just say “I’ve expended enough energy already today; I’m going to take a personal day off, since I can.” As the expression goes regarding science, just because I can doesn’t mean I should.
And on the subject of things said (specifically, the title of this letter), I actually couldn’t tell you if I started the day by running too hard (although I suspect that Erin would tell me that I’ve done everything but run, so it doesn’t count), or if I hit the ground too hard; in either case, I guess it’s only metaphorical, so I don’t know how anyone could tell. All I know is that I’d really rather not have to put as much effort into the remainder of the day as I did for the first hour and a half.
So with that in mind, I hope you can see your way clear to keep an eye on me for the rest of the day, and wish me luck. I think I’m going to need it.
Letters to Rachel 