Big day indoors

My hair is now officially an indoor fire hazard and my eyes are sore from squinting at small pages, but other than that, I feel pretty good right now.

So I spent four hours working out indoors today. I wasn't all that bad, physically or mentally. And it didn't even turn out to be a nice day outside, so I feel like I won this small battle.

I started at the pool, noon sharp. I'm not exactly sure how I feel about pool swimming. It makes me thirsty like the land of 1,000 suns, and makes my skin and hair feel like I just got back from such a place. But it goes smoothly enough in the meantime, and there's great people watching pretty much nonstop ... because I still can't put my face in the water without taking a big draw of liquid chlorine. I still need to figure that one out.

Open swim lasts two hours, and I thought I'd try to stick in out the entire time. But at about minute 94, I was hit with a need to visit the bathroom at a degree and urgency I did not anticipate. One minute I was fine, and the next, it was as though the entire weight of the pool and everyone inside of it came crushing down on my bladder. I did the last half-lap pulling frantically with my arms while squeezing my legs together. Then I waddled quickly into the locker room. By the time I came back out, about a half dozen children had taken residence in my lane. And since there was only about 20 minutes left in open swim anyway, I decided to call it good. 144 laps.

The I went to the regular gym. I did I few quick upper body lifts to cool down, and I ate a little baggie of dried fruit and nuts. Then I took up residence on an elliptical machine with a copy of "The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime," which I bought at a garage sale months ago and have been meaning to read. Good book, and fast reading. Before I even knew it, I was on page 136. Two hours, 15 minutes.

Now it's been seven hours since I returned. I left the gym feeling a little depleted, mostly because it's impossible to drink in two hours the seven gallons of water the pool seems to drain from me. But other than that, I felt pretty strong. No knee pain out of what is ordinary. Good signs. Happy day.

Swim: 95 minutes, 2 miles (10,600 feet).
PedalRun (or whatever it is you actually do on a elliptical machine): 135 minutes, 16.8 miles (Distance according to the digital display. Who knows how accurate that is, but since I don't even know what an elliptical machine is supposed to mimic, what does it matter?)
Actual distance traveled: About 400 feet.

Life is a mystery.

Clean slate

The only exercising I did today was a 45-minute walk along the Mendenhall Lake shoreline. It was a rest day, but it seemed important to get out - if only just to look at a waterfall and snap a picture of a glacier. Thing is, there are a lot of places in Juneau to go "see." Lately, especially so on these sleet-streaked, featureless days, I seem to gravitate out here. Maybe it's the lack of contrast. Staring out across a rotting sheet of ice and wondering where it meets the sky. I spend more time looking in than out.

I've been working on changing my outlook about things. Before now, my philosophy about endurance cycling - and life in general, really - has been that if you want it, really want it, so bad that you've convinced yourself you need it, it's possible. Out of shape? No food? No water? If you had to bike that 100 miles to survive, you'd find a way to do it. Of course, I never lived by anything that extreme. But I like to operate under the delusion that I control my own destiny.

I'm learning, though, that wanting things ... even needing things ... isn't enough. Life is a little control and a lot of chaos, so in the end, you're not really the one behind the wheel. If you don't have any water, don't have any food, that's a correctable problem. But if that problem persists, you'll die, eventually. No matter how much you tell yourself you'd really like to keep going.

But I staggered upstream through a tough week on the job and it worked out for me; now it's over. Hooray. I have this plan to complete several hours of low-impact, high-energy activity tomorrow ... swimming, elliptical machine and the like. Maybe four hours. My idea was to test how my endurance is holding up. I'm actually looking forward to it, even if it is hamster wheel stuff. But then I hear that it's going to be a beautiful day ... partly sunny ... clean pavement ... may even hit 40. And a larger part of me is wondering how I can make that whole bike thing work. I'd like to ride out to the glacier. Snap a picture of some blue sky with a red roadie in the foreground. It sounds so idyllic. I know I'm going to resist temptation, though. I'm not even worried.

Maybe I just don't want it badly enough. But I guess that's not the point.

Ode to the gym: A sonnet

Ode to the gym and its hamster machines,
Where sweat, not love, drips onto the floor.
And bleary-eyed faces, as though in a dream,
Just keep circling and circling for more.

Ode to the worker, who each day at noon,
Chips away at her unyielding routine.
Where meaning is found in a glaze of tunes,
And Fox News full blast on TV screens.

Ode to gym and the peace that I find,
With nowhere to go and nothing to see.
Read magazines till my conscience goes blind,
And circle until my legs are set free.

Hearts beat in hopeful pursuit of each run,
In static frenzy we find our own fun.