First timed mile run in 23 years
The wine cellar that has doubled as Michael Brown's painting studio allowed me to wake up from the heat of my Big Agnes sleeping bag instead of the usual random noise deal. He's been out of town all month and his status here is on the rocks. Will he find away to repair it? Who knows? Skip was on the rocks, but he lives under a big one so that seems to be within his comfort zone. In fact, I've hear whispers of him talking about moving on but that's another post on another day on another fence.
Put on some clothes, walk up the steps, out the door into the bright sunshine and blue blue sky. Eyes squint to protect too large pupils and turn off several lights. Spot Bill in his blue Vovo as he's about to cruise somewhere in the direction of down. We say yo, tune in, then its later. Turn off some more lights, turn on the jacuzzi, check in with the cooks.
Sometime later, after I've eaten varous raw concoctions, I am able to CBR the 900 to Nordoff's brown bouncey track which is only like a 6 minute ride away. I arrive, survey the scene, no one on the tracks, no kids, no walkers just some lady walking the top of the far bleachers. I let the engine keep running for a few minutes as I stretch my calves, quads and hams. This time I am determined to measure the time 4 laps will take. No seconds on this phone so I wait until it changes to 5:08. Off I go shooting for an 80 second lap. As I run I check the cell to watch when the minute changes. If I had to put my effort in numbers I'd say I went about 85%. Still, I felt a touch of disappointment that I completed the fourth lap just before the time hit 5:14. Thus, I barely ran under a six minute mile. This time can definitely be improved on. The aquisition of a stopwatch now becomes imminent as the July 6th Casa Barranca Mile looms just 10 days ahead. Can I actually take 30 seconds off my time? YES! The motivation is there and heart will come into play as Devin and I run along side eachother. After my first timed mile in 23 years, I walk around the track once and then jog two more laps before getting back on the motorcycle. Fireblade starts up immediately and takes me back to the estate. Every one's in class. I hop into the jacuzzi and 10 min later Alla calls to invite me to the beach for some frizbee. I have to decline the invitation, we talk of getting together this week.
Dusk is only an hour or so away. Lights need turning on, rooms need to be checked and candles need to be lit. Dinner's all raw, every one is mellow after their fourth yoga class in 2 days. The flames of the candles dance in the slight breeze and the conversations sparkle with easy laughter.
The entertainment tonight is chanting. I hang out with the cooks in the kitchen while the retreatants are enchanted my Girish, Steve Ross, Dave Stringer and a bass guitarist from Argentina. Its nice to get to know these particular cooks and chill. With so many peops around this is the time to relax.
The show ends, most come back and go to sleep. Some eat the raw fudge pineapple dessert. Turn off lights, distribute some of the vino, head down to the jacuzzi filled with 4 women and 2 men, police the noise, take off clothes, sink into the hot water.
Andrew is one of the cooks. He is the elder. He's 54 and directs the conversation towards an area that can be controversial. Equality between men and women. He had some strong beliefs and spoke out against men creating men's groups and women going to women's groups. He thinks that it is detrimental. I defended this occurance: "When women are in the presence of men, the milkshake competition can become the focal point for their vast intelligence. When they are just with themselves, they are presented with the opportunity to develop other areas of their intelligence as well as create stronger bonds among themselves."
Andrew also talked about how much he hates sports. I felt compelled to respond to this as well by expressing what I think are some important benefits of sports: emotional expression, exercise, confidence.
Tonight was the night for conversation. Everyone leaves tomorrow, including Bill and Eliza. Then I'll have the house to myself.
Put on some clothes, walk up the steps, out the door into the bright sunshine and blue blue sky. Eyes squint to protect too large pupils and turn off several lights. Spot Bill in his blue Vovo as he's about to cruise somewhere in the direction of down. We say yo, tune in, then its later. Turn off some more lights, turn on the jacuzzi, check in with the cooks.
Sometime later, after I've eaten varous raw concoctions, I am able to CBR the 900 to Nordoff's brown bouncey track which is only like a 6 minute ride away. I arrive, survey the scene, no one on the tracks, no kids, no walkers just some lady walking the top of the far bleachers. I let the engine keep running for a few minutes as I stretch my calves, quads and hams. This time I am determined to measure the time 4 laps will take. No seconds on this phone so I wait until it changes to 5:08. Off I go shooting for an 80 second lap. As I run I check the cell to watch when the minute changes. If I had to put my effort in numbers I'd say I went about 85%. Still, I felt a touch of disappointment that I completed the fourth lap just before the time hit 5:14. Thus, I barely ran under a six minute mile. This time can definitely be improved on. The aquisition of a stopwatch now becomes imminent as the July 6th Casa Barranca Mile looms just 10 days ahead. Can I actually take 30 seconds off my time? YES! The motivation is there and heart will come into play as Devin and I run along side eachother. After my first timed mile in 23 years, I walk around the track once and then jog two more laps before getting back on the motorcycle. Fireblade starts up immediately and takes me back to the estate. Every one's in class. I hop into the jacuzzi and 10 min later Alla calls to invite me to the beach for some frizbee. I have to decline the invitation, we talk of getting together this week.
Dusk is only an hour or so away. Lights need turning on, rooms need to be checked and candles need to be lit. Dinner's all raw, every one is mellow after their fourth yoga class in 2 days. The flames of the candles dance in the slight breeze and the conversations sparkle with easy laughter.
The entertainment tonight is chanting. I hang out with the cooks in the kitchen while the retreatants are enchanted my Girish, Steve Ross, Dave Stringer and a bass guitarist from Argentina. Its nice to get to know these particular cooks and chill. With so many peops around this is the time to relax.
The show ends, most come back and go to sleep. Some eat the raw fudge pineapple dessert. Turn off lights, distribute some of the vino, head down to the jacuzzi filled with 4 women and 2 men, police the noise, take off clothes, sink into the hot water.
Andrew is one of the cooks. He is the elder. He's 54 and directs the conversation towards an area that can be controversial. Equality between men and women. He had some strong beliefs and spoke out against men creating men's groups and women going to women's groups. He thinks that it is detrimental. I defended this occurance: "When women are in the presence of men, the milkshake competition can become the focal point for their vast intelligence. When they are just with themselves, they are presented with the opportunity to develop other areas of their intelligence as well as create stronger bonds among themselves."
Andrew also talked about how much he hates sports. I felt compelled to respond to this as well by expressing what I think are some important benefits of sports: emotional expression, exercise, confidence.
Tonight was the night for conversation. Everyone leaves tomorrow, including Bill and Eliza. Then I'll have the house to myself.
posted by Dij at 11:54 PM
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