Stretchy

Today provided yet another flurry in the realm of physical engagement.

I did, in fact, trip awkwardly into the work week. I drooled through it but not before writing a letter to the VP on the general state of things. It seems to have been decently well-received.

Allow me, for a moment, to dropkick any further elaboration on things work-related right out the window.

I got all restless last Wednesday and indulged myself. I drove to the sports store right after work and did something I hadn't done in 10 years. I found myself a pair of soccer shoes.

I walked out of the store with a perfectly stupid grin on my face while celebrating my new-found treasure: a pair of Adidas cleats and a shiny new ball :) You would have thought I had won the lottery. I was that guy, walking at pace while making sure to smile forcefully at everything and everyone. I was rather comfortably that guy.

I wore the cleats all night Wednesday and actually considered wearing them to work the next day to break them in. The next afternoon, I got off work early specifically so I could get out and relive my childhood for a few hours. I threw the cleats and ball into my backpack and peddled down to Zilker Park.

Zilker is, once again, destroyed. The 60,000 people who came out for the music festival last weekend completely ruined the multi-million dollar renovation finished no more than three months ago. The grounds were covered by a mass of mud and brown grass, a far cry from the acres of green grass the city so meticulously planted and nursed along. I saw it again today and crews were pumping standing water out manually to try to let [what's left of] the grass breathe again. It's very disappointing. I can't imagine how the city planning committee feels about it. "Who needs a budget when we have all this mud?"

Alright. So I rolled down to Zilker Park that afternoon with my backpack exploding with soccer gear. I must have looked pretty ridiculous (as I usually do). When I saw that the crews were still repairing the fields and removing the festival equipment, I headed over to the little field across the street. I think it's actually an overflow area for the river but... they must have used it in some capacity for the festival. They were still working on removing some small tents there. And there were outlines in the grass from larger structures that had been employed over the weekend.

I took off all my riding gear and tossed it next to my bike in the middle of the field. Then I donned my cleats with indisputable expertise :) I actually did lace them in the store with my eyes closed just to humor myself. Now, I played soccer for 13 years growing up. My touring team from the Houston suburbs won the state championship when we were 14. We were terribly awkward teens everywhere but on the soccer field. Such is adolescence.

I could only handle about an hour out in the heat. It was about 90 degrees and humid. I was like an overactive kid, kicking the ball and chasing it relentlessly. I was juggling and dribbling and punting and heading and sweating ferociously. I even took a spill once... rolled and bounced right back up before the rush hour traffic could laugh at me too too much. It was awesome. I'm happy to know my feet still work. Soccer cleats used to be my horse in battle. My feet were my weapons. With the exception of a few special occasions, not many sentiments compare to my memories of stepping onto soccer fields early in the morning while the grass was still wet. To any soccer player, there's something great about knowing after 60 or 90 minutes, not only will the game have been completely exhausting, but if all goes as planned, the team would emerge victorious.

I was pretty stinking tired after the hour out there that evening. I pedaled home and... probably traded. I don't remember.

I ended the week up only 7% on the charts. I was reckless and projected my emotion as market sentiment that simply wasn't there. I lost on Thursday and took my gains from 27% down to 7% for the week. I was working on other stuff and didn't look at charts on Friday.

I actually went over and hung out with my mom on Friday. Her disability was finally cleared. Apparently everyone finally got all the paperwork they needed from all the different groups associated with the auto accident. She's feeling better emotionally now that there's some money coming in, but she's still physically very uncomfortable. She's coming off of vicodin and it's highly unpleasant. She's not a big person and had been taking 3 a day for nerve pain in her neck. She dropped down to 1 a day and has apparently been in pretty shitty shape because of it. She found some new doctors who know how to deal with it. Now that she has something to help her sleep, she at least has the energy to deal with the detox a little better.

When I left her apartment, I ran a bunch of errands. Like one of Pavlov's pooches after a fantastic meal, I went right back to the same sports store.

So I've been riding my Schwinn Le Tour around town pretty regularly with my singular "gear." It's a little tricky on a couple hills around town, but it's generally really great at making sure I keep my feet spinning.

A couple weeks ago, a coworker posted a new riding group which apparently is an established group that rides every week in full cycling garb. I expressed interest and was expecting to jump in line this morning. So yesterday I returned to the sports store and did what I told myself I would never ever do. I bought spandex: long sleeve shirt and pants. Hell yes. I feel like I can slip through a keyhole when I'm wearin em. So now I've graduated to the level of exercise that absolutely requires you to look like a socially inept, overactive athlete with way too much free time on the weekends. Fits me to a "t," I think.

I wore them all night last night while I tuned up my bike and was just in awe of their awesome texture and... stretchiness. It made my freaking day. For a puny worm such as myself, I felt ripped and particularly dangerous :)

I tinkered with my chain for a bit and made some lemonade with honey for the ride. Then I tried to get as much sleep as possible. I knew the start and end points and discerned the most probable route. I'd never ridden this far on a bike in one sitting and had couldn't remember the terrain. But I said to myself, "I'm wearing a spandex suit. I can do anything."

I got up and was at the rendezvous point in full, stretchy gear at 9am. But no one showed up. I called Mr. Man and he said the group had inadvertently cancelled the ride this morning and he was unable to contact me. Just the same, I rode.

I stripped down to my nude glory and bolted out of the gates. I rode 20m in 80 minutes and even found a way to cram my phone into my sleeve so I could play my music :) There were only a couple hills that gave me trouble but it was overall a good route. There wasn't much traffic and the weather was nice.

I've just been workin on charts and watching movies this evening. I scratched the guitar and tried to take a nap but Johnny's bizarre music kept me regrettably conscious. I ended up doing laundry and playing with computerstuffs.

And here I go... into another week to work my tail off. I want to go to Bocas del Toro but not alone. If anyone feels like going for a week this winter to sit on a beach and be as lazy as humanly possible, let me know. The dry season starts in mid-December. Should you be a single, smart and particularly awesome woman, all the better.

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