Writer (noun) one that is excused for recurrent mental maladies

I write a lot of random words in my trusty sidekick notebook. Some are words I quite honestly haven't heard before. Others are just too amusing to be left alone. I find them in books, in eavesdropped conversations, and in my own house. So I decided to collect some of them and use them in a writing exercise. Said exercise is a throwback to the old grammar school prompt: "write each vocabulary word in a sentence." Sometimes the basics are the best!

1. The woman was in a cathartic mood, much to the chagrin of the study group. Instead of studying for the psychology test, the group had to endure a long story about the woman's deceased cats. 

2. The use of leeches for medicinal purposes is generally considered to be an arcane practice.

3. To prevent the extra guacamole from spoiling, we bagged it into aliquots and put them in the freezer.

4. The man was prone to apoplectic bouts, during which no one in his household cared to be within striking distance.

5. The driver of the blue Civic took umbrage at the driver of the red Camry who caused the accident.

6. The best time to harvest peppers is when they have grown large and supple. This ensures the best flavor.

7. The critic had the audacity to suggest the Tomorrow series is merely a rip off of the American film Red Dawn; I simply wrote him off as a literary ignat*.


*Okay so this one is probable a cheat because ignat technically isn't a word, but we use it quite often in our house. I suppose when I write my own language, it will be an official word *snicker.* Oh well. 

Putting the "running" in Running Fish

I'm generally an optimistic person, but even I have to admit that the past year or so seems to have had more downs than ups. 

My parents are still duking it out from a rather nasty divorce from last year, my beloved Grandfather died unexpectedly, of the three dogs in our family we had to put two to sleep, my dad got assaulted at his house, I had to cancel study abroad plans to Ireland because we just plain can't afford it, I still can't find a job, and the overall stress factor in my house is threatening to hit the ceiling. I have repeatedly found myself asking "why me?" Yes I know there are people worse off than me, yes I know I should be thankful for what I do have (I am), but that doesn't change the way I feel. Call me selfish, whatever. That's just where I'm at.

I'm usually like every other student who grasps for the last dregs of a break, be it a long summer break or the week at Thanksgiving. For some reason, however, I was chomping at the bit to get back to classes this semester. I wonder why. *insert sarcastic eye roll* 

The eternal optimist in me prevailing, I told myself that this fall was going to be better for me. Attitude is half the battle or something like that, right? I can't change my family structure, I can't bring people back to life, and short of winning the lottery I can't pull my entire family from our financial sink hole. But I know I need to take care of myself if I'm going to do anything at all.

That's about where I was when I first started this *shudders at the word* blog. I was inspired by a friend of mine who began a reinventing process. As I heard her talk about it, and write about it on her own *shudder* blog, it dawned on me that it might be a good use of my energies to think of ways to [improve, reinvent, whatever you want to call it] myself. I started this *shudder* blog with my new name, Running Fish (post 0). A little while later I made myself a list, because I'm a compulsive list maker. That was another post. Now I've been tackling some of those items in that list:


While I haven't been at karate class as much as I'd like in the past month, my focus for the rest of this semester is to really double my effort. Fortunately, the main point I'm working my way to will actually lend itself to this. So I'll come back in a moment... I've been writing when I can, but definitely plan to amp that up too, by time next semester starts I'd like to have a rough draft of one of my novels I've been mulling over. I've been experimenting with yummy recipes. My container garden is doing swimmingly, despite the rain storm the other day that nearly wiped my poor pepper plants out. I've made a  conscious effort to allow myself more time to read for pleasure. I even bought myself a pair of boots because, well, they make me feel like a rockstar.


Finally, the biggest thing I've been tackling is one that encompasses my desire to do better at karate and to improve my mile time (i.e. to actually have a mile time to begin with). I found a running program online that's designed for novice runners. The idea is, over a 12 week period, to develop a more active exercise habit. I've found from my exercise history (i.e. my whole life) that I need goals or I won't get anywhere. I've tried over and over again to start running, only to come to a grinding halt after despair and fatigue set in. I'd tell myself I wasn't running long enough or far enough. I was nothing like my dad, who might run upwards of five miles in a week. I would get sore after a few days. I didn't like getting winded. The excuses went on... One way or another I came across this program I'm doing now and I have to say, it's working for me. I realize that anyone who is even remotely athletically inclined is going to look at that running plan and laugh. I know, it's not like I'm out running two miles in one sitting. Like I said, novice runner. But it's a goal I'm working towards, even if it is small in comparison to what some of the instructors at my karate school are capable of doing. But they're just awesome, so I digress.


Every day there's a walk/run workout (I realize my use of the term "workout" here pales in comparison to most definitions). The first day started simply with a fifteen minute brisk walk. The next day was a five minute walk and one minute run alternated for three sets. And so on. There are "heavy" and "light" days which alternate. As I finish each day's workout, I highlight the box to see my progress. 


Not surprisingly, week two has been a little more challenging than the first. When I saw the "walk five minutes, run three, repeat for a total of 21 minutes" I thought, hey no big deal. Well, for me three minutes of straight running turned out to be a bit of a "big deal." Hence the more challenging aspect of this week. The first day I had this set, I got through the first three minutes fearful of the second three I had to run five minutes later. But man I did it. I kept telling myself "keep going, keep going, keep going." I made it to the end of the second three minutes sweaty and out of breath and just basically feeling (and looking, I'm sure) awful. But I did it.


Today was the same set, but it was more challenging than last time. 


In karate class recently, one of our instructors said something to the tune of: "Limitations are like fears, more often than not they're just illusions." If we tell ourselves we can't do something, it's too hard, it's too far above our ability, we're not strong enough, and so on, we can almost certainly expect to fail. But those fears are almost always an illusion. We end up creating the limitations that hold us back. So if I tell myself "I can do this," I'm more likely going to be able to do it than if I tell myself, "You're too out of shape, you can't do this."


This came in handy when I went rappelling recently. I hadn't gone for years and there I was harnessed and ready to walk backwards off a perfectly decent cliff with a good hundred feet below me before I'd reach the ground again. Every sense in my body was saying "stop" and "you can't do this." But I took a deep breath (okay, many deep breaths...and some shallow ones too), said in a tiny voice in my head "You can do this," and took my first step. Voila. I made it. I even went again, down a taller, more advanced cliff. 


Today I found myself saying over and over again, this time in a louder, more self-assured voice in my head, "You can do this. You can do this. Keep going. Keep going." I could do it. I did it. 


Okay so it was three minutes, not thirty. But it's another step in the right direction. Like I said, I'm goal oriented. If I have a goal set in front of me, I can put myself in the mindset to reach it. That's what I'm working for each day, little by little. Each workout is my short-term goal for the day. I don't know where I'll be in about ten weeks when this program will be behind me, but my goal is to at least finish. So here I am, putting the "running" in Running Fish. 


Signed,


RF

A frog met by lamplight

I was out jogging tonight and came across a frog. How healthy of me, I know (the jogging). I've really started to embrace this whole healthy lifestyle. Just like I embraced those two doughnuts earlier today. Ahem.

Anyways, I was out jogging my doughnut lined boocha when I came across a little frog chilling on the curb. He was illuminated by the street lamp and here I was the unsuspecting "princess." It was all very romantic.

Well if princesses run around in old sweats with perspiration dripping down their faces and matted hair, then sign me up for the ball.

I paused in my progress, panting slightly, and bent over to say hello to the little fellow.
"You're  a cute little froggy," I informed him. He let me pet his rough little head. He didn't jump away or croak. It was meant to be.

So I put my earbud back in and jogged off into the night.

Who kisses strange frogs on street corners after dark anyway?

Pancake Crumbs

Donald was a spry old man, for being seventy-seven. He took the subway everyday from the station near his tiny Inwood flat to that near Central Park. With him, he carried a pink plastic folding lawn chair and a potato sack full of the pancakes he made every morning.
Two for himself, the rest for the pigeons.
There was nothing too particular about the Tuesday when he bought a lemonade from a vendor near Balto. He sipped the sweet juice, satiating his thirst, as he made his way to his spot.
The sky was a grayish color overhead and as a result not many people seemed to be out and about, but Donald didn't care about this.
He splashed through a large puddle made from the rain shower of the night before, sending ripples across his aged face with its goose fluff frame.
At the fountain, he set his pink plastic chair up an settled in. The lemonade rested beside his water stained house slippered feet.
Already a few pigeons had gathered, perhaps they expected him or maybe they really were an infestation to the city.
Donald smiled as he opened the potato sack, but his smile quickly disappeared.
He could see the fabric of his black sweatpants through the gaping hole in the bottom of the sack.
What was left of the pancakes hung in crumbs on the coarse lining of the bag.