Not a day

I found this on Facebook.

If you follow the river, you can see the route I call Miller's Loop.  It has the flagged footbridge to the right, and Colorado Bridge with Whitewater Park to your left.  The sidewalk is visible through the snow due to foot traffic.



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Not a day

It is getting to be Christmas.

One of my friends informed me of  Christmas carols being played 24 hours a day on-line .  As I do my yoga in the same room as the computer, it was nice to have the music while I stretched and relaxed.  The music also helped me hold my poses longer, and I look forward to my next session as being more enjoyable than I usually do.  (Usually yoga is a cross between brushing my teeth and getting them cleaned--a have-to that I do more out of a sense of personal responsibility than anything else.  Always glad to have it done when it's over.)

(The url for this image is at play.google.com)

Day 69: More water exercisng

Missed the class, but that was okay, as the women's locker room was closed for ceiling repairs.   The ceiling tiles were finally being replaced after months of repair work on the roof. The contractor didn't get the replacement roof done by the deadline, and the rains came and, yeah.  Lots of drywall got wet, ceiling, etc.  Karen told me the details that I didn't hear back at the shop, including that she'd found a pair of shoes and put them in the lost and found.  They weren't lost, they belonged to a certain facility supervisor who had been working on the clean-up, and who was rather, um, annoyed that they were missing.

I went to the new locker room, walking past lockers that were in the hall way, a few that had personal locks on them.  The other women's locker room was large, and there were no locks on the lockers.  I overheard a facility employee answer another woman's question, that purses can be left at the reception desks for safe-keeping.  There were no personal changing booths.  The showers did have some that had curtains and benches for use, and there were about eight toilet stalls, and they had hooks inside the doors. 

Karen told me that I could use a family changing room if they weren't being used, in the hallway.  I could see that three were empty, so I made quick use of one to change my clothes and then stuffed everything into a locker in the changing room, and went to use the lap pool, making forty minutes of my glorified dog-paddling before going to the hot tub.

At the hot tub, a couple of people were describing their travels, and both agreed that the present place was the pleasantest and the cleanest of the various pools they'd been to in their cross-country journeys.  Grants Pass was the worse by one account, while Kansas City was by another.

Found this drawing in a Google search.  It's from https://www.quotev.com/SincerelyJazz

Day 68: Water-walking in the lap pool

Thanks to my obsession with writing essay answers and reluctance to go outside in freezing temperatures, I was late getting to the swimming pool, but I still went and did the work for the rest of the class time, which was half an hour in the four foot deep area of the pool, following directions 

Right afterwards, I got out of the pool, grabbed my towel and a floation belt and hauled my wet body to the lane pool, which is also the outdoor pool.  The pool has a large ceiling and walls skeleton, which is covered with a huge white cloth skin in the winter to keep the heat in.

I was expecting the pool to have a shallow end, with three feet depth going to five feet, as the indoor pool had, but somewhere along the timeline that I wasn't paying attention to, that half all became an even seven feet deep, and the coy little drainage ditch that used to be between the water and the edge was gone, and the water went right up to the edge of the pool.  (I am sooo easy to impress.)  I got my belt on, and got into the slow lane and started "water-walking" back and forth half the length of the pool.  (Suspended water-walking is pretty much glorified dog paddling.) I was amused at one point to discover that my brain was quiet, that the whole focus was to keep my arms and legs moving.  There was an amber and black reader board with ads that flashed up, one after another, and at least six large timers that marked the minutes and seconds of the clock to help hold my interest for the half hour.

When I got out, I removed my floation belt, grabbed my towel and headed to the door.  Between the doors of the outdoor pool and the indoor pool is about five feet of outside (freezing!) air.  I pulled my door open just as Cynthia opened her door.  I didn't wait for manners.

"Thank you, Cynthia! Thank you! Thank you!" I gushed as I hurried past her.

She laughed. "Hey Barb!  Good job! Good job!"

Outdoor lap pool in the winter

Day 67: Diet and Exercise vs. Blubber and Botox

Okay, okay.  I walked laps at Kiwanis Park today.  One of my friends and her twins had moved over into the neighborhood, and I was waiting for her to text her address to me.  The park is off Wilson, on Centennial.  It's a porta-potty park with a small pavilion, a small baseball field, some picnic tables and a small tamed wild area--basically a patch of pine trees that gets raked once a year, containing  native grasses. There's a fence between the park and the rail road tracks, and on the other side of the fence is debris such as a flowery fabric covered full-size mattress, some empty beer boxes, a bike frame, tattered take-out boxes, and so forth.

For the  most part, I was the only one in the park.  A police officer was there, then he left and then someone sat at a table, and later a couple of young women walked by.  The afternoon sky was low and cloudy pewter, and an occasional snow flake wandered in my way.

A couple of summers earlier, I'd been at the park in the summer.  The head of park facilities was playing in a band there, park rangers were handing out ice cream pops, and there were some games hosted by recreation, an attempt to try to get people to use the smaller parks for their venues.

I thought about how much more I still need to do to recover my health, to get to my weight and strength goal, and I thought about the election.  Some of my associates on the 'net pointed out that Americans tend to go for opposites, and such was the case this time.  A fit black man whose wife championed healthy eating and exercise is now being replace by a blobby white guy whose wife--I didn't know she was his wife when I first saw her on the news, I thought she was a mannequin, and I wondered a few moments later in the newscast why it had been put on the down escalator. at the shopping mall Trump was apparently visiting--anyway, whose wife is a trophy one who, according to one news article I read, has a contract or something to keep the weight off and an keep up her appearances, for which she gets to live surrounded by gold and have her haute couture.  No diet and no exercise advice from Trumps! chortle the internet trolls who despise the First Lady and her health and fitness advocacy .

After my visit with my friend, I came home and read how Trump's pick is going to gut Medicare and the Affordable Care Act. I felt awful, as I thought of how people with dwarfism and/or other genetic and non-genetic "pre-existing conditions" will be probably worse off than they were before, and Medicare will be gutted, among other challenges.  I hope the AARP and its lobbyists scream loud and long, and those who voted for this will regret it as much as we who didn't.

I need to double down on my fitness programs.  I don't want to have to deal with medical challenges in a Trumped-up world.

President Barack and First Lady Michelle Obama

Day 66: Auld Lang Syne

Decades ago, when I was in my mid-twenties, I talked to an associate who ran six miles everyday.

"How can you do that?" I asked.

"If I don't, I feel the same as when I don't brush my teeth, only it's my whole body," she replied, with a look that said to me, "and when was the last time you brushed your teeth?"

Okay, so I've rarely been exercise fit that I know of.  The apex was when I was a sophomore in high school.  I was riding my one-speed to school, four miles into town for sure, and probably another two to the school.  I was in track for a few weeks at the same time, doing fartleks for most of the time.    At the end of the term, I came in third or forth in the long distance run (you should have seen the look on the P.E. teacher's face), did all the sit-ups in the allotted time, ran the hurdles and successfully made it over the last one.  My stomach was concave and I felt strong and energetic.

So here I am now, decades older, more weight, less muscle.  But still, after my water exercise class and the short stroll I had in Juniper Park, my body feels the way my mouth does after using a water pick.


My high school.  Photo from http://www.lakeview.k12.or.us/schools/lakeview_high_school_daly_middle_school.php

Day 65: Thanksgiving Day walk

So it takes me forever to deposit my birthday checks.  What better time than when the sidewalk project is done, and I won't have to walk around heavy equipment and fencing?

The new sidewalk is on the east side of Third Street, clean and clear of debris and other pedestrians. The wind came from the south, and had a bitter chill in it, the sky was grey, but there was no threat of rain.  The lower foothills of the Cascades were dimly visible, and I wondered if the mountains were getting snow or just fog.  There was hardly any traffic, due to the holiday, and the parking lots had few cars.  The Factory Outlet mall's parking lot was completely empty, every store shuttered.  At the shopping center next to it, there was only one red car parked near Ross and Jo Anne's, and those stores were also closed. Both places had restaurants, both closed.  I wondered if this was how North Korea was like on a daily basis.

On my way back from the bank, I stopped at the Butler Market store and got the mail.  There were three or four cars in the lot, but the only person in the store was the clerk.  We wished each other a Happy Thanksgiving.  She was going to celebrate hers tomorrow, as one of her sons was going to his wife's family, and the other was going to his girl friend's; Friday they would all be together.  I felt a twinge of guilt for leaving her alone, but someone else came in as I was leaving.

At Fred Meyer, the store was how it usually is at 3 p.m. Thanksgiving Day--pretty empty.  There was a dad with three boys picking out produce, a woman dressed in black with a white faux fur vest and heavy gold jewelry on her wrists and neck, an old couple, a few singles of various ages, a group of three or four girls.  The fresh fish area was empty and cleaned, as was the hot deli area.  I picked up a couple of turkey baguette sandwiches that were on mark-down. I went to the greeting card area but decided not to go roaming in the as-good-as-empty store. Someone announced every ten minutes that the store would be closing at four, and at three-thirty there was the dire warning that the store would not only close at 4, but that the cash registers would be automatically turning off very soon afterwards--I'm not sure if it was five or ten minutes later.  I visited with the cashier briefly about my time working there, and left before the three-forty announcement.

Day 64: Cynthia

Okay, her name's not Cynthia.  I thought it was when I first met her, decades ago.  She's a celebrity of sorts here, and is either a supervisor or a lead instructor at the facility, I'm not sure what her job title is.  Cynthia is easy to spot, as she's blonde, thin, always wears pink, always cheerful and energetic.  Her voice is sounds ragged, as if from all of her years of announcing.  If the South Sister were to blow up, and the forests caught fire, and we all had to flee the devastation, she'd be, "Power run, people!  Knees up and kick those feet forward!  Swing out the stress!  Both arms to the left, now arms to the right, swing and step! swing and step!" and hundreds of years later, when Plaster of Paris molds are made of the hollow forms, there would be uncovered thousands of Bendites, facing east, each standing on one foot and the other straight out, arms up.

Cynthia was substituting at the class today.   I got there late, but still got a good workout.



Yep, South Sister, she's going to blow one of these days, any day now.  Soon.  Keep watching.
Image from https://www.brasada.com/bend-oregon-adventures/best-bend-oregon-hikes.php

Day 63: Kick in the pants

Monday morning, again.

Had my swim bag ready to go in the morning, and made myself late by reading "Girl Genius."

Go to the class late, or get a later class and risk not going?

I thought of this, by Rohit Giri at Quora:

Self discipline is the ability to get yourself to take action:-

• to do what you need to do
• regardless of your physical, mental or emotional state.

Everything you want in your life, everything you want to have and do depends on your ability to get yourself to take the necessary actions to achieve your goals, whether you feel like it or not, which is why the developing extraordinary self-discipline is the most important commitment you can make to yourself right now.

And then I thought, "Parking spot!"

So I went.  Forty minutes of swim fitness.

Yesterday on my way to church, I learned of this book, "Peak:  Secrets from the new science of expertise," by K.Anders Ericsson.  It's at the library, so I will pick it up this afternoon, see if I can treat myself to wellness.


And for today's picture, a page from the adventures of "Girl Genius"!

Oops, it won't show.  So here's the link:

http://www.girlgeniusonline.com/ggmain/strips/ggmain20161118a.jpg

Day 62: Damp, drizzly November in my soul

Still having trouble digesting the election.  (I've been doing yoga at home, but I didn't think it was enough to write about, even though it takes about a half an hour, more or less, and I'm able to move from upward dog to downward dog, albeit clumsily.)

And today I just had to make time to write a post at another site, and thereby made myself late for the water fitness class. This session the  class emphasized the arms.  The music was unremarkable, but the final slow-down moments, followed by a noodle float were comforting in a way.


After class, I did some water-walking.  Did I feel better? a bit.  Then I found out I needed to get an okay from the monitor, who wasn't there, to do water-walking at that time, and there was a misunderstanding, and so forth, and, yeah.  So I did the hot tub, sauna, showered and got dressed.

I went into the facility area, where Karen was meeting with a supplier.  She and the building facility guy (I've seen him at meetings all year, and still don't know his name) gave me the okay to go up to the crow's nest and see what it looks like.  It's an office area with three or four computer monitors at a U-shaped desk, pretty much how the shared desks are at the facility trailer, with a window that looks out into the wall to the north, and another that looks out to the park to the east.  It's accessed by a flight of stairs.  It had been a storage area, but more offices were needed and so now it exists.

After leaving the building, I went for a stroll through Juniper Park, hoping that the fresh and and sunlight would do me good.  I pondered the counsel I was given Sunday--that this is a period of time where nothing can be done, but to endure and do well with the space and the people around me.  The sunlight gradually faded as the sky grew cloudy during my meditative journey.

I briefly visited with another co-worker who was unloading his plumbing rig, and then found one of the seasonal landscapers.  I felt a bit cheered after the visits, but it was short-lived. My fight-or-flight mode was still stuck in the "on standby" position, which isn't good at all--it's very stressful, and I tend to over-eat while waiting to see if it go one way or the other.  It was just as well for me that the little local grocery store was closed, or I would have eaten its pastries. I went to Costco, has a slice of pizza, and came home just as the drizzle started and the melancholy returned.

https://bendfamilyparktour.wordpress.com/tag/juniper-swim-and-fitness-center/
 

Day 61: A long walk

Today is Election Day, and I have the jitters.  As I was driving by Farewell Bend Park, I decided to take a walk on the river trail, then when I walked under the Bill Healy Bridge, decided to go the other way instead.

So I went on the trail to the footbridge, crossed over to Riverbend Park, took the crosswalk by the Bend Parks and Recreation District Office, down to the Les Schwab Amphitheater, past the Art Station that was across the street, and used the rest room at McKay Park.  I saw some of the my parks co-workers with their trucks, two were from the shop, and one was from facilities, but they were busy and didn't see me.

I don't skateboard, but going up the path to the White Water Park overlook, I wished that I did.  I looked over to Miller's Landing Park to my left, but turned to my right to go under the Colorado Bridge via the pedestrian tunnel, walked to the Old Mill District, passed the flagged pedestrian bridge and went on to the Columbia Bridge pedestrian tunnel, exiting the Old Mill District.

I walked past the condos and into Farewell Bend Park, and went the length of it, back to my car.

I have no idea how long it took, nor how long the walk was, but I felt good.  No aches, no heavy breathing, just a gentle tiredness.

The Art Station

Day 60: Back to the Pool

I've been doing yoga and some free weights, but that's been about it since my season ended two weeks ago.

Today I made sure to get to the swimming pool for the 7:30 morning class.  I was so early I had my pick of parking spots, and was greeted by my former co-worker Karen, who had transferred over to the swimming pool in June.

The dressing room still had the scent of cleaning chemicals (nice!) and had only one or two people in it.  I spent about 15 minutes water-walking, warming up, when the instructor appeared about 7:25.  She was older than I've seen working there, and her playlist was in honor of Veteran's Day, which will be on Friday.  The pool was full, but not crowded, as half the group had on flotation belts and were in the deep end.

The music started with "(Coming to) America" by Neil Diamond, and there were some old sounding World War I songs that I don't recall ("Praise the Lord and Pass the Ammunition" was not one of them"), the Andrew Sisters' "Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy," "Chattanooga Choo Choo," and a few others that I didn't recognize, with the recovery at the end including a band playing "Amazing Grace" and some other slower pieces.  We did yoga stretches in the water for the last few minutes, which was different than the slow stretching exercises of past visits.

After warming up in the spa, I spent a few minutes with my custodial supervisor, Glen, and again with Karen and got a glimpse of the Juniper project that had been going on all summer and they explained the broken door at the Fish Bowl.  (One of the night crew accidentally broke it with the floor machine.)

In the dressing room, Karen was mopping up the water as I finished dressing.  We had some more shop talk before I headed out.

I feel nicely wrung out.  My center of gravity is finally up in my torso.

 For more about the song "Chattanooga-choo-choo," click here.


More on the Andrew Sisters

Photo from the Andrew Sisters' website

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Not a day: The garbage run

At the end of my work week, I do chores at the shop services building, including gathering up the contents of break room and bathroom garbage cans into one big black bag and driving it up the hill to the dumpster.

Yesterday, I discovered I still had the garbage bag sitting in the break room after I had washed and put my truck away, and there was only 15 minutes left to get everything else done. 

I quickly asked my coworkers if any of them still had a rig out, and none of them did.

"Don't sweat it.  There's always mañana," one of them said.

There was no way I was going to leave that garbage there for someone else to deal with, so I lifted it up from the container and found that it wasn't as heavy as I'd feared.  I carried it across the drive through, up the hill to the parking lot, found a path that went to the top of the hill where the dumpster sat.  I walked as quickly as I could, and didn't get winded until I was a few steps from the top.  I hurried across the flat top to the dumpster, heaved it in.

I decided to take the back road back down to the building, where I was rewarded with the discovery of finding the "doggy spa" were the official Parks and Rec dog stays when off-duty during work hours.  I got down to the buildings, ran the recycling bins into their places, and still made it back to the break room, going in through the back door with 5 minutes to spare.

"There is no mañana!  I carried it up to the top. I did it today." 

"How do you feel?" the co-worker asked.

"PROUD," I crowed.

"Awesome! Give yourself a pat on the back!"

I didn't. Not until after I wrote this.




photo of dumpster from some other place, some other web page

Not a day

Two or three weeks ago, I went down a pants size, even though the needle on the scale stayed put. 

My cheekbones are showing up and some skin is getting looser.  The veins on my feet and hands are more noticeable. 

For the past few days, the reading on the scale has been changing, and now, for the past couple of days and today, it shows that I've met 25% of my weight loss goal.

(no photo)

Day 59: Wall Street Family Practice

 

I went to my medical appointment that was for my work on my weight loss, and got some encouragement to continue.  I also got to say "Good-bye" to Roxie, who has been there since before the twins were born.  She's almost always taken my file and escorted me to my exam room, always cheerful, always helpful.  She and another team member have another clinic that they are already working at part-time, preparing for when the clinic closes due to Dr. Knapp's retirement in September. There wasn't any other doctor to step in to continue the clinic, so it will be shutting its doors.  I still have no idea where I will be going to after September.

It's sad knowing that this was my last appointment there.  I started going to Wall Street Family Practice, back before my first baby was born, and now the doctor is retiring and the clinic is closing.  The hallway walls are painted with flowers and butterflies and cheerful bugs and birds, and now that's all going to be gone.  The entry area with its second door to enter, the waiting room, the little alcove where the scale is kept and where the library used to be, the exam rooms with the wooden cabinets with white hand written sticker labels for the contents (no two exam rooms were alike), the children's waiting area, the lighting, the feel of the place, the scents will be just memories.

Afterwards, I walked to the library and got some stuff.  Getting stuff from the library when I'm melancholy or otherwise sad is like retail therapy, only I'm not spending any money until the overdue fines come up.

I drove to Miller's Landing, where I did my walk.  I didn't time it, but I'm sure that the mile and a half walk for me is at least half an hour.  Doing the walk is good medicine, but it's less exciting than a visit to the dentist, where at least there's a number of various magazines to flip through, The History Channel to watch, and a sense of accomplishment when through.

No on-line photo available of the clinic's outside or insides.  Bummer.
http://www.wallstreetfamilypractice.com/ 

Here's a Google street view:
https://goo.gl/V9nb12

Not a Day at the Deschutes County Fair

I did walk on Saturday (yesterday).  I just didn't make it a dedicated walk, as I went to the county fair and walked around.

In the exhibits buildings I noticed that 4-H knitting seems to be extinct, examined the cooking and place setting exhibits, studied the "Tom Thumb" flower arrangements (I remember my mom entering hers in the Grant Co. fair when I was a child), and saw an award given for the tallest sunflower.  There were information posters of the Super Bowl, how eggs are made in chickens, and how to identify lice eggs on feathers.  The 4-H sewing award went to the backpack, not the coat.  The decorated cakes and sets of vegetables that followed the fair theme, complete with plastic pigs and cows got the biggest ribbons of rainbow hues and brown, both with gold lettering.

I ate a corn dog while watching a silly magic show ( Vampire oranges suck the juice out of blood oranges.  Hee.).  I was tempted to have a doughnut ice cream sundae, but I passed.

I did not get my photograph taken at the Old Timey Booth, or the one with the giant arm chair, or the $5 for four pics photobooth.  I kinda regret not doing any of them, but given my current state of temporary unemployment, it was probably just as well.

I inhaled sandlewood smoke at the made-in-India out-door vendor stall, admired the colorful clothing and hats, fingered the leadlike necklaces featuring dragons and scorpions and peace symbols pendants. 

OSU's costumed mascot Benny the Beaver was greeting people outside the live stock buildings.  Inside, I studied the eyes of lambs and goats, and checked out the rabbits, where I saw the cutest little bitty bunny rabbit! that looked like it had hopped out of a Japanese anime forest. It had little black ears that were straight and pointed out, like a V, little black round nose, and little black slits of closed eyes.  The rest was a pure white ball of short rabbit fur, paws tucked under where they couldn't be seen, where they wouldn't disturb the perfect symmetry of its round body.

I liked the little nature reserve that is on the grounds.  It was nice and shady and had two ducks floating around in the small pond, and the little stream was musical.

I spotted the Balloon Lady, wearing her big hooped skirt, making her little pieces of art by the vendor building. Inside the vendor building, the Republican booth had a card-board cutout of Donald Trump, standing by itself apart from the table and the posters of the local and state office runners.  I entered the library drawing and got a free notepad and pen for stopping by its booth.  The cookware sales pitch had a nice little crowd, sitting in the folding chairs.  The Tupperware booth had the measuring cups I wanted (with the 2/3 and 3/4 cups), but didn't have prices on them. I got some $30-a-jar aloe stuff rubbed on my arm,

Didn't go on any rides; there wasn't any Ferris wheel but there was a kiddie merry-go-round that was completely empty when I first walked around it.  There was a long line of parents and toddlers waiting to get on the small horses and the one green winged dragon.  I didn't see any live camel rides, but I didn't look very hard for them either.

So I was there for a while, got my hand stamped before I left.  My car was parked at the end of the parking lot. I was careful to look at landmarks before I left, and so had no trouble returning to it.

Nice day, glad I went.  No sunburn!

Days 57, 58 and Not a Day

In April, I sought medical help for my weight, aches and pains, and got a physical.  I also returned to work as a seasonal employee for the parks district.

In my employment, I drive from place to place; wipe down doors, sinks, handrails, walls, toilets.  I restock toilet paper and toilet seat covers, refill soap dispensers.  I sweep floors, mop them, empty the mop water, rinse out the bucket.  There is a lot of lifting, bending, moving.  So I've been getting workouts.  I don't count them as exercise, even though I generally do anywhere from six to eight parks a day. I also washed my rig, carried cases of toilet paper and jugs of cleaning into the stock room and custodial closets, folded towels, carried out garbage, wiped tables. Due to my employment, I lost count of how many days I've walked, but it hasn't been that many.  I forgot details, left them in drafts instead of polishing and posting them.  I think I even forgot to record one or two walks.

Since that appointment in April, I've reduced my sugar intake.  I also got rid of 20 pounds, the ache in my right shoulder, the pain in my left foot that has plagued me for about a decade, and a benign lump--a bit larger than a walnut or a key lime--at the back of my left breast.

I'm now recovering from the breast surgery, and will be returning to work August 12, for about four hours a day for the first week, more if I feel up to it.  Since the surgery, I've walked two days.  It took me 40 minutes to walk 1.5 miles at my Miller's Landing route.  I did a walk at Farewell Bend Park on July 30, for half an hour.

During my recovery, I've slept a lot--a good thing, according to my surgeon--done housework and clearing out boxes, visited with one of my daughters for a few days, went to the Harry Potter midnight book opening at Barnes and Noble, bought some clothing at Macy's.  And I've been on the computer, where I learned a lot about writing and book publishing from an author I respect, and found this handy dandy quote:

"Your appearance is a reflection of the respect you have for yourself."    (https://www.quora.com/How-do-you-figure-out-if-someone-is-secretly-wealthy/answer/Bernie-Klinder) 

I'm missing three weeks of work--my fault for not signing up for AFLAC (missing employment insurance) when it was offered at work.  Right now I'm kicking myself for not doing it.  Of course, if I'd had the mammogram back in, say, February, I wouldn't be missing work. Silly me.  Whining about missing work when I should be shouting out my gratitude that it wasn't cancerous.  Staying inside when I should be out enjoying my summer break.

I'll count those two post-surgery walks as 57 and 58.


Lodestar by Roger Berry at Bond & Reed Market roundabout, from http://www.theoldmill.com/bend-art-studio-galleries/roundabout-art-route/

Day 56

Logger's Loop, my Friday.

Day 53: Back to work

My season started today.  Many of the same familiar faces, minus a few who have retired, and a few new faces.

My days off were changed, and my truck is gone, given over to the park stewards.  There is a new Ford Transit, which I will be driving on Thursdays and Fridays.  The route is a bit easier, as every day there will three custodians, so the number of restrooms is less.  McKay park restrooms will not be done until 2017, and Skyline is still being remodeled.  Once again, my submitted request to have Juniper demolished and built from the ground up has been politely ignored.  Everyone had a nice winter, except the ground crews who have to plow the snow off the paths and parking lots.  We even had popcorn for our first morning.

After work, I walked Logger's Loop, which is 1.3 miles.  The flags on the Old Mill foot bridge were various shades of blue.  I was tired, but I wanted make myself stronger and I felt the need to de-stress.  I plowed my way through the route, feeling more and more tired as I went, but knowing that when I was done, I could go home and relax.  The sky was overcast, the air cool, and there were some scattered raindrops, but not enough to do anything. I thought about some army where the troops were told to do field exercises until they broke a sweat.  I thought about the actor who played "Sulu" in the original Star Trek television shows, how he ran to get out the worries and the memories that he knew he could do nothing about, so that his mind and his body were too tired to care. It was in his autobiography, To the Stars, and I enjoyed his account of his run when he was waiting to hear back on his audition, of the scene of overlooking Los Angeles at night.

Years later, one of the things that resulted from his habit of running was that when he was called back to put on his uniform, he was one of two cast members who didn't have to have the seams let out.  For me, with the walking, I was able to put on a size smaller work tee-shirt, one which I couldn't get over my body last year.  This year the size I've worn for the past five years didn't get ordered, so yes, it's very good that I can get into it.  The shirt is snug (I told a co-worker, "I think I look like I'm headed out to the AARP wet tee-shirt contest")  but there are people wearing tighter shirts at work. 

His childhood and Star Trek years, published prior to Facebook.