By last fall, after running several times every week for six months, I was able to run 3.18 miles without stopping. This is my great lifelong pinnacle of running achievement. Then the weather got really cold in Chicago, and we moved, and I've only gone running a few times in the last several months. Though my 3.18 miles is piddly, I'll be damned if I'm going to lose it. To that end, I've started running again. After about 2 miles I'm maxed out, but at least I haven't been plopped back to the very beginning, where I can't run a quarter mile without sidesplitting pain.
So I work my way east, and the houses become more modest, although the neighborhoods are still neat and trim.
View 2-19, 2-22 in a larger map
And then last Tuesday, I was doing laundry in the basement. For some reason, I was taking two laundry baskets down at once. I stepped into my Privo "comfort" flats, which are not that comfortable and fit rather floppily. As I descend the steep wooden stairs, I think, "I should be careful. It would suck to fall down these stairs." And then, of course, I do fall down the last several stairs. I don't know what happened, except that I'm holding a huge bulky load, and the light is terrible, and my right foot twists and folds under me. Fortunately, there's now a large pile of laundry on the basement floor, and I crawl over to it and lie there a few minutes. As always with bad pains, I can't remember the exact sensation but it hurt like hell.
So I ice the foot, and keep it elevated, and a big bump forms, as if I have two ankles. For a couple days I mostly stay off it, and then start walking around again, feeling encouraged. It hurts less. Then I discover that it hurts sharply if I swivel my foot in a certain way, and now I just don't know. My left foot is bony and tendony as usual, and my right foot is not grossly swollen, but plump and bruised yellow and weirdly thick in a few places.
I research what to do about a sprained ankle. In the New York Times, Jane Brody freaks me out with her insistence on "immobilization." But then this article says the opposite, that stretching and strengthening the ankle speeds healing. Almost all the internet articles I read suggest tracing the alphabet with your big toe as a mobility exercise. It might be more fun to spell words. While doing this, I'm drawn to what hurts. "C" is quite painful, so I write Cindy Cindy Cindy.
My running days are over for the time being. Walking feels pretty okay, so I'm going out for a walk, although maybe not a long enough one to cover fresh ground.
Here is my current cumulative map:
View Portland Walk in a larger map
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Walks #7, #8: Zigzags
#7, 2-8-10: The Mind Rearranges Itself
On Tuesday, I got up, drank coffee, and sat in my office chair at my desktop computer. I read the news, surfed around a while, and spend at least half an hour writing a 2-line email to my friend R. in Canada, who wants to know why I have the glumpfs. I can't find a way to explain. I write a line or two and erase them, then write that I will write later. To R., who writes emails like fish swim in water. I spend another hour or two at the computer, doing basically nothing: writing another very short email or two, looking up online where should I eat buy jeans exercise work.
Nothing is bad. Everything is good. We have moved, the sun is shining, and being unemployed is not that abnormal. I manage to eat a late morning meal that is neither too small nor too large. If too large, I would probably retire to the bed or the living room floor, for reading or television watching. This would be soothing, and not that abnormal for an unemployed person.
It's not a day for accomplishments. To get through the day with a relatively normal level of activity is plenty, is doing great.
I get out for a walk. It is still sunny, which is a miracle. I walk in a repetitive S shape up and down the lovely sunny streets of Irvington. There is a house for sale for over $1,200,000. Adjoining lot, with mature trees, available more some hundreds of thousands more. It feels good to walk.
View portand walk 2-8-10 in a larger map
Later in the week, my mind rearranges itself. I am seized with guilt over my inactivity. I take care of some errands, clean the apartment, but am still bogged down with my email problem. I write a little thank-you note in less than an hour. I go to look up some piece of information online, and an hour later I am still there, idly reading New York Times articles or Yelp commentaries or Survivor biographies on wikipedia. (Did you know? A new season of Survivor has started. The cast is made up of contestants from previous seasons, half of whom I can't remember.)
Walk #8: Valentine's Day.
On Sunday, before making tofu stroganoff, I go out for a run, end up mostly walking. I continue to zig and zag my way through the pretty Irvington streets. West of 21th Street, it's not as posh. Pretty soon, I'm going to exhaust Irvington neighborhood and need to talk further afield.
View portland walk 2-14-09 in a larger map
On Tuesday, I got up, drank coffee, and sat in my office chair at my desktop computer. I read the news, surfed around a while, and spend at least half an hour writing a 2-line email to my friend R. in Canada, who wants to know why I have the glumpfs. I can't find a way to explain. I write a line or two and erase them, then write that I will write later. To R., who writes emails like fish swim in water. I spend another hour or two at the computer, doing basically nothing: writing another very short email or two, looking up online where should I eat buy jeans exercise work.
Nothing is bad. Everything is good. We have moved, the sun is shining, and being unemployed is not that abnormal. I manage to eat a late morning meal that is neither too small nor too large. If too large, I would probably retire to the bed or the living room floor, for reading or television watching. This would be soothing, and not that abnormal for an unemployed person.
It's not a day for accomplishments. To get through the day with a relatively normal level of activity is plenty, is doing great.
I get out for a walk. It is still sunny, which is a miracle. I walk in a repetitive S shape up and down the lovely sunny streets of Irvington. There is a house for sale for over $1,200,000. Adjoining lot, with mature trees, available more some hundreds of thousands more. It feels good to walk.
View portand walk 2-8-10 in a larger map
Later in the week, my mind rearranges itself. I am seized with guilt over my inactivity. I take care of some errands, clean the apartment, but am still bogged down with my email problem. I write a little thank-you note in less than an hour. I go to look up some piece of information online, and an hour later I am still there, idly reading New York Times articles or Yelp commentaries or Survivor biographies on wikipedia. (Did you know? A new season of Survivor has started. The cast is made up of contestants from previous seasons, half of whom I can't remember.)
Walk #8: Valentine's Day.
On Sunday, before making tofu stroganoff, I go out for a run, end up mostly walking. I continue to zig and zag my way through the pretty Irvington streets. West of 21th Street, it's not as posh. Pretty soon, I'm going to exhaust Irvington neighborhood and need to talk further afield.
View portland walk 2-14-09 in a larger map
Friday, February 5, 2010
Walks #5 and #6: In Search of My Dream Coffeehouse
2-2-10, 4.6 miles.
I need to find a coffeehouse. Somewhere I can sit and work on my laptop, and consistently get a seat, and where the staff is pleasant. They don't have to be friendly per se, but helpful and nice-ish would be great. I'd like to not feel like a tool for ordering coffee that's 1/4 regular and 3/4 decaf. That's a slightly irritating order, I know, but aren't slightly irritating orders par for the course in a coffee house? I'd also like to feel okay about asking questions, like are there free refills, or what is the security key for wi-fi. (You're supposed to ask to get the key, right?) If a coffee shop counter person is not at all nice, I don't ask questions and I don't come back.
I'd like a good selection of baked goods, with extra credit for healthy or vegan options. The bigger the selection of food for sale, the better. I'd like an attractive space. I'd like silence or good music. I'd like some soft places to sit and read. I'd like uncrowded.
So, that's my wish list. On Tuesday, I went on a long walk up to Williams Street, to visit Ristretto, a much-praised coffee shop. They have prizewinning espresso. I thought it was a beautiful space, very architectural, but I didn't feel especially comfortable there. All the good seats were taken and seemed to be at a premium. I ended up sitting on a couch, and drinking my drink and using my laptop were awkward. I ordered a cup of decaf rather than a part-caf concoction because the counter staff was intimidatingly hip (though not unpleasant). I also got a biscotti. My decaf, an Americano, was kind of watery. There was nothing wrong with it as far as coffee shops go, but it didn't warm my heart.
After that, I walked up to Alberta, then back down 15th and picked up a few groceries at the Whole Foods on my way home.
View Portland Walk 2-2-10 in a larger map
On Thursday, I tried a coffee shop that I like a lot, World Cup Cafe on NW 18th and Glisan. It is a pretty space with lots of windows, not too crowded, not too hip. A lot of the clientele were middle-aged, well-off looking men who probably live nearby. I didn't try a pastry, but enjoyed my coffee. They had brewed decaf, so I didn't feel like a jerk asking for a decaf/caf mixture. Man, I wish this was closer to my house. I'd become a regular. Sadly it is across the river in Nob Hill, a neighborhood with challenging parking.
2-5-10, 4.4 miles.
To round out my testing, today I walked up to Concordia Coffee House on Alberta St. I didn't like it at all. The guy behind the counter had a contemptuous way about him, and didn't give me a saucer for my tea. I didn't know what to do with my tea steeping device (a little mesh cup, taking the place of a teabag), and ended up sitting it on a napkin, where it became a gloppy mess. Ordinarily, I would have gotten some more hot water for my tea, but I didn't feel like dealing with the dude. There were few patrons in the shop, so maybe other people feel the same way. A coffee shop just down the street, Random Order, is completely packed every time I pass by, so it's not lack of customer base.
Random Order sounds pretty awesome from its website.
Map of 2-5-10 walk (which didn't add much to my cumulative walk)
Cumulative Portland Walk:
View Portland Walk in a larger map
I need to find a coffeehouse. Somewhere I can sit and work on my laptop, and consistently get a seat, and where the staff is pleasant. They don't have to be friendly per se, but helpful and nice-ish would be great. I'd like to not feel like a tool for ordering coffee that's 1/4 regular and 3/4 decaf. That's a slightly irritating order, I know, but aren't slightly irritating orders par for the course in a coffee house? I'd also like to feel okay about asking questions, like are there free refills, or what is the security key for wi-fi. (You're supposed to ask to get the key, right?) If a coffee shop counter person is not at all nice, I don't ask questions and I don't come back.
I'd like a good selection of baked goods, with extra credit for healthy or vegan options. The bigger the selection of food for sale, the better. I'd like an attractive space. I'd like silence or good music. I'd like some soft places to sit and read. I'd like uncrowded.
So, that's my wish list. On Tuesday, I went on a long walk up to Williams Street, to visit Ristretto, a much-praised coffee shop. They have prizewinning espresso. I thought it was a beautiful space, very architectural, but I didn't feel especially comfortable there. All the good seats were taken and seemed to be at a premium. I ended up sitting on a couch, and drinking my drink and using my laptop were awkward. I ordered a cup of decaf rather than a part-caf concoction because the counter staff was intimidatingly hip (though not unpleasant). I also got a biscotti. My decaf, an Americano, was kind of watery. There was nothing wrong with it as far as coffee shops go, but it didn't warm my heart.
After that, I walked up to Alberta, then back down 15th and picked up a few groceries at the Whole Foods on my way home.
View Portland Walk 2-2-10 in a larger map
On Thursday, I tried a coffee shop that I like a lot, World Cup Cafe on NW 18th and Glisan. It is a pretty space with lots of windows, not too crowded, not too hip. A lot of the clientele were middle-aged, well-off looking men who probably live nearby. I didn't try a pastry, but enjoyed my coffee. They had brewed decaf, so I didn't feel like a jerk asking for a decaf/caf mixture. Man, I wish this was closer to my house. I'd become a regular. Sadly it is across the river in Nob Hill, a neighborhood with challenging parking.
2-5-10, 4.4 miles.
To round out my testing, today I walked up to Concordia Coffee House on Alberta St. I didn't like it at all. The guy behind the counter had a contemptuous way about him, and didn't give me a saucer for my tea. I didn't know what to do with my tea steeping device (a little mesh cup, taking the place of a teabag), and ended up sitting it on a napkin, where it became a gloppy mess. Ordinarily, I would have gotten some more hot water for my tea, but I didn't feel like dealing with the dude. There were few patrons in the shop, so maybe other people feel the same way. A coffee shop just down the street, Random Order, is completely packed every time I pass by, so it's not lack of customer base.
Random Order sounds pretty awesome from its website.
Map of 2-5-10 walk (which didn't add much to my cumulative walk)
Cumulative Portland Walk:
View Portland Walk in a larger map
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