In the morning I take a walk.
I do it rain or shine.
Most mornings.
I can't say "every morning" because I don't do it every morning. Sometimes even when I want to, circumstances prevent me, but those circumstances don't include water falling from the sky.
It happens when it happens, but when it does happen, it happens rain or shine.
My morning walk is extra important to me on days when I have a job to do. It's the one part of my routine on those days that really is routine, even if I don't do it every single day. The rest of my schedule might call for anything, but I know I can wake up in the morning, put on my tracksuit, and go for a stroll around the neighborhood.
The morning walk is when I clear my head and organize my thoughts. Some days it's the only time I get to myself, though this particular day I had woken up alone in the house and expected to be the only one home when I returned in the evening.
As far as any of my neighbors know, the little stroll that I sometimes take rain or shine is the extent of my exercise. I never go jogging down the block or running in the park. I never run for exercise at all, though sometimes I do it for practice or to challenge myself or for the sheer joy of motion.
I just don't do that where the neighbors can see. Keeping up appearances, you know?
There's no point in pushing my body to its physical limits, in terms of health or personal improvement. There are techniques involved in running, shortcuts and efficiencies to be discovered. I worked with a coach one summer and learned a lot about the mechanics of running, but I had to let him go because ultimately he just didn't get me. He'd been too rooted in the normal day-to-day reality of his job, and so he'd kept coming back to things like endurance training and injury prevention, things that I don't need and don't care about.
All I'd wanted from him was a way to improve my sprinting. The problem was that I kept mentioning distances, and no matter how many times I told him that it didn't matter to me, he kept wanting to tell me about all the important differences between a sprint and distance running.
From that point on, I've only practiced running on my own. Not often. I like to improve my technique, but it's not a necessity. It doesn't directly affect my work.
The walking part of the walk is only one part of my occasional morning routine. I'm a big fan of breakfast, as a meal, and I mean a proper meal. Cold cereal doesn't do it for me. Sometimes I'll just grab a muffin or a pastry, but on days when I'm working, I need the fat and protein and grease of nonspecific nutritional value that you only get with eggs, bacon, and sausage.
I don't like the bother that comes along with a real breakfast, though. Any day that begins with a sink full of dishes is not a good day, by definition. Doubly so if it's a work day. So, a really good corner cafe is a great thing for me, and there's one just around the corner from my townhouse. My walking route ends there by design.
When I reach the cafe, I usually start with coffee and sit a while before I order. Before I began doing that, I found myself ordering the same thing without thinking and wolfing it down without tasting. That sort of thing can set your pace for the whole day if you're not paying attention.
So now I take my time, savor the aroma and flavor of the pretty good coffee, and think about how hungry I actually am and what I'm hungry for before I order. I end up getting exactly what I want and I enjoy it a lot more.
That hadn't been my idea, originally, but I recognize good advice when I hear it.
On some rare occasions, I even take it.
Some days I linger longer than others. This isn't one of those days. The TV suspended in the corner is tuned to a different channel than normal, one I'd been hoping to avoid at the moment. I would ask if I could change it but people are watching it. I'm not, but the fact that I know the voices makes it impossible for me to tune it out.
One of them belongs to the perpetually perky hostess of a local morning show, though she sounds downright sepulchral compared to her guest: Anne San Angel.
"People like action words, Kate. They're descriptive. They're evocative. It's one of the most natural ways to refer to a person, in terms of what they do. Actors act. Bakers bake. You know?"
"So then, gifters... gift?"
"We like to think so. That's why we prefer 'gifter' to 'gifted'... we would like to be seen as benefactors to humanity, not beneficiaries."
I know that she thought she was being horribly clever when she coined that, but I also know she'd never win the hearts and minds of the public over with clunky catchphrases like "benefactors, not beneficiaries".
Worse, there is a certain kind of heart and mind that not only won't be swayed by big words but would be made to feel small. Those minds would be much more at home with the pithier phrase used in the headline on the day-old newspaper sitting on the cafe table in front of me.
GIFTER, OR GRIFTER? it says, and right underneath that banner is a color picture of Anne herself, the self-proclaimed spokesperson for the gifters movement. |
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
alexandraerin) wrote2011-02-08 05:55 am
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject