The Extent of the Effect

Dearest Rachel –

“For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.” So goes Isaac Newton’s first law of motion, the product of the Enlightenment concept of experimentation and observation, as opposed to blind acceptance of received wisdom from generations past. Best envisioned (and demonstrated) on a billiard table or a croquet lawn, this law conjures up images of a sphere careening toward a counterpart and striking up, whereupon the struck ball speeds away from the point of the collision, its direction dictated by the location of contact. In theory, it should then continue on in that direction, aside from the fact that other forces are at work on it, such as friction, as well as the possibility of interaction with whatever other balls might remain on the table, or the edge of the table itself. So even in its most basic illustration, there are a few variables apart from the subject and object spheres themselves that factor into the resulting effect.

So it is with life in general; call it the law of cause and effect, call it karma, or even that of sowing and reaping (although the effects in this last tend to grow over time, in defiance of physics), what actions one takes lead to certain results because of them. To be sure, the number (and effect) of variables involved in the real world are considerably greater, meaning that, while one might be able to expect a certain result from a certain action, one would be hard-pressed to determine the extent of the effects of that action – and they might change from one set of circumstances to the next, as one never steps in the exact same river twice (if I may borrow from received wisdom for a moment).

For example, this past weekend saw me in the booth at church, so I decided to get back to my practice of fasting throughout it. It’s actually been a while since I went the entire forty-five, forty-eight hours from Saturday morning to Monday morning – and the last time I actually did that, I felt rather faint by the time I was on to my workout for the day. This time, while I lost the opportunity to grab lunch on Saturday, I did make a point to finish off the last few strawberries (maybe a half-dozen or so still left in the container) on Sunday morning, to take the edge off. Either way, I was hoping to lower the ceiling on the weight range I’ve been currently been bouncing around in; I’d actually managed to drop below 220 on both Thursday and Friday, and top out at 225, so I wanted to see if I couldn’t work my way further down by today.

What I hadn’t expected, however, was how my body would react to such endurance testing. Sure, I assumed that my stomach would be unhappy about not having anything for it to work with, and it would pain me from time to time with its demands for sustenance. But the pains it bestowed on me didn’t feel much like hunger pains at all; if I had to describe them, they felt – and still feel, at least for the moment – like an actual stomachache. It’s a sensation that I would expect to be similar to what having an ulcer might be like (while I don’t think I’ve ever had one, and I’m pretty sure this isn’t one either, I have had an anxious stomach from time to time, and it doesn’t feel at all like hunger pangs).

Moreover, and I don’t know if there’s any connection, it’s seemed to have recruited other parts of my body into paining me, presumably in an effort to convince me to feed it. By Sunday evening, my back was sore to the point where I wasn’t sure how I was going to comfortably get to sleep – and I had no intention of eating at such a late hour. Even my head was getting into the act, and with my stomach already so sore, the idea of taking ibuprofen to assuage it was out of the question. As I’m typing this, those two have been somewhat subdued in comparison, but they are still nagging away at me. I think I shall attend to them all before continuing further; although, given the nature of this ache in my stomach, I probably will just have something light, like cereal, as opposed to feeding it something too savory or spicy, no matter how much I might be in the mood for it.

And ironically, for all this pain I’ve had to endure on Sunday, I didn’t drop below 220 on either weekend day. Clearly, I’d have been better off eating something and just working it off in the gym, rather than eschewing both like I’ve done for the past two mornings (and yes, you might guess that I woke up this morning feeling too ill to feasibly work out, so I didn’t. It’s not so much nausea that I’m dealing with – I don’t have anything to throw up – but that sense of ill ease leaves me with one more reason to stay away from the gym on top of my lack of motivation, despite having woken up at four this morning).

***

There is another possible reason for my anxious stomach, and likewise, it stems from a lack of foresight regarding the consequences of my actions. Having come to the conclusion that I may have, for far too long, mistaken someone for Megumi (which I fear is a story I won’t ever be able to tell here, honey), I decided to take another dip into the dating pool that are online meeting sites. I signed myself up on a new site, and did what I could to fill out a profile (within the limitations of their fields; you can only pick so many areas of interest, and describe yourself in so many words). I didn’t even pop for a subscription yet; so at the moment, I can’t check to see who’s liked my profile (and I’ve apparently had three or four hits in these first twenty-four hours).

However, one individual sent me a message, and asked me for my number, at which point she called me shortly thereafter, and we talked for nearly an hour. Long story short, I’ve got myself a date – tomorrow.

That was sudden.

I had no idea how quick the reaction would be to this action; I’m still trying to sort this one out for myself. Given the poor response from previous attempts, this comes as something of a shock, and I don’t know how this is going to play out. Obviously, I’ll probably have a lot to tell you about, come Wednesday or Thursday, depending on how long it takes to get my impressions together about this (and her; she’s definitely a far cry from the manic pixie dream girl I recall you to be, and that I’ve been half-heartedly looking for), but for now, I’m still trying to wrap my head around the extent (and the speed) of the effect of this decision.

I hope my stomach settles down between now and then; we’re meeting for dinner, and the last thing I want is to actually fall sick in front of her. Then again, it would make for a good story. Either way, keep an eye on me, honey, and wish me luck. I’m going to need it.