AGNES by Tony Cochran
Happy New Year, friends!
May 2012 be filled with nacho-bearing pals!
AGNES by Tony Cochran
Happy New Year, friends!
May 2012 be filled with nacho-bearing pals!
As mentioned (ahem) a time or two before,
I don't do well with the short, dark days of winter
and try all sorts of things to keep myself from
collapsing into a weeping sack of Tracy.
My current favorite weapon for deflecting the winter blues
is to do a 20-minute cardio workout on the treadmill
(walk, jog, stride, sprint, repeat x 4).
I know, I know…big deal, right?
Wrong.
I don't do the workout just any old time: I do the workout
so it coincides with the sun disappearing behind the foothills.
Why?
Because even though the sun is leaving me for the day,
I don't really mind because at that very moment my system is flooded with endorphins.
image from morguefile.com
Take that, Winter!
I cannot begin to tell you how very I am to be gaining daylight!
image from morguefile.com
Bring it, Sun!
We've already gotten at least a foot of snow and it keeps falling.
Zippy filled the feeder and put out another suet cake this morning
and it's a feeding frenzy out there.
I was just making pumpkin pies and kept stopping to snap photos.
This guy's up on the wire overlooking the scene, and the various jays (blue, western scrub)
keep flying to adjacent wires where they appear to be taunting him.
The hawk doesn't seem to much care
and comes across as rather zen-like amidst all the hubbub.
I was all excited when I saw this photo I took today:
Hey, I said to Zebu, it's Three Turtle Doves.
To which he replied, "I think the song goes 'Three French Hens, Two Turtle Doves.'"
So I looked up The Twelve Days of Christmas and, sure enough, it's Two Turtle Doves.
Well.
I'd rather not break up the trio so if you'd be so kind, either squint your eyes
and pretend these are Three French Hens OR miscount the birds
and end up with only Two Mourning Turtle Doves.
Thank you.
Cross-posted from FROM THE MIXED-UP FILES…OF MIDDLE-GRADE AUTHORS
I am a writer and an athlete. I’m also prone to bouts of seasonal affective disorder(SAD) that crush my motivation to write or exercise. And as those who suffer SAD or depression will tell you, the longer you go without doing something, the harder it is to get started again.
I’d heard about treadmill desks from Mixed-Up Files alum Hélène Boudreau and had it in my head the desk had to be attached to the treadmill. But I didn’t want an attached desk because I use my treadmill to run, and so never pursued the idea. Flash forward to the end of October when I was curled up on the couch, berating myself for being a non-writing, gelatinous waste of humanity. The thought of the long, dark months ahead had me in tears.
I needed to do something.
I remembered the walking/writing idea and did a little research. Guess what? Treadmill desks do not have to be attached! Treadmill desks can be free-standing shelving!
I went to a restaurant supply store and bought two 14” x 48” shelves and four poles for about $60. I thought I wanted shelves that were only as wide as the treadmill but am glad I was forced to get the 48” size because it turned out that extra room is great for my water bottle, dictionary, notebook, etc. I recommend getting two shelves so you have extra space but also because the second shelf makes the “desk” more stable. This type of shelving is fully adjustable so you can tweak the height until it feels comfortable. (We had an extra ping-pong table net and I attached that to the poles to create a backstop so I don’t have to worry about knocking my laptop onto the treadmill).
So far I’ve walked 47 miles and logged over 2,600 minutes of walking and writing time. I use a spreadsheet to keep track of my sessions, including calories burned (7,050!) In addition to those stats, here’s what I’ve learned:
Verdict? My mental, emotional, and physical health improved via the treadmill desk. You know what else happened? (Beside gaining a new-found evangelism for treadmill desks? Ahem.) My writing life has improved. I’m writing more consistently and the writing feels stronger. My current work-in-progress is more cohesive than the second drafts of other manuscripts I wrote while sitting down. Granted, much of that is due to writing from an outline for the first time, (HA!) but I also believe my brain is working in different ways. Now when I’m stuck, I walk slowly and gaze at the finches and clouds as I work out the solution. I don’t quit and go visit the refrigerator. I don’t quit and check my email.
I don’t quit.
(Speaking of email, when I first mentioned having a treadmill desk my spouse wondered if I’d want internet connection in our basement and I said, “Absolutely not!”)
The walking/writing has also reignited my exercise routine. I’m back to daily yoga and runs, and even hooped outside one warm afternoon. I’m no longer the weepy woman on the couch. I realize converts can be an annoying species, but hope you’ll look beyond my zealotry and consider incorporating a treadmill desk in your life.
Remember: when you walk and write, you’re always moving forward.
(Okay, a few words: Churchy and Albert are characters from the Pogo comic strip
and they're what my brother and I played with way back when. These and other characters
came in boxes of Biz Laundry Detergent but we no longer have the originals so I bought
these guys on ebay and made them little vests just like the old days.)
Yesterday I printed out the first eleven chapters (about 80 pages)
from the second draft of my middle-grade,
and am quite pleased with how it's coming together.
It's the first book I've written from an outline
and I must say it's a more civilized approach to writing a novel.
Ahem.
Anyway, because this sense of well-being will certainly fade
in the not-so-distant future, I'm documenting my current emotional state.
Please join Batman and me as we do the
Check-Me-Out-I'm-Feeling-Pretty-Damned-Good-Dance!
(And yes, that is red lace. Thanks for noticing.)
It starts out like this:
image from morguefile.com
And somewhere along the way, turns into this:
image from morguefile.com
We just survived an incredibly difficult weekend
and are all more tired than usual but (mostly) intact.
Here's to a new week and a fresh start.
I'm trying to keep this in mind:
Children begin by loving their parents;
as they grow older they judge them;
sometimes they forgive them.
~Oscar Wilde
image from morguefile.com
The thermometer reads 8 degrees
and I'm so very grateful for my warm home.
I filled the feeder this morning after shoveling
(a profanity-filled exercise due to steamed-over-eyeglass-induced blindness)
and am enjoying the flurry of activity out there.
The House Finches and Mourning Doves coexist peacefully
but there are some birds who never seem to fit in the the crowd.
Juncos are often chased from the feeder
but today's odd-bird-out is this Spotted Towhee.
Is it just me or does it look as if he's wearing an executioner's mask?
Dude, there might be a lesson there.