Crazy, funny, terrible energy today!
Woke before the sun rose, the rains came again and washed everything clean. The mountain was clear as ice, clouds covering the center. I got out the door as the sky was changing into pink, running to the Muni. I am becoming familiar with things - streets, buildings, people, dogs, birds - it feels like home. I arrive at the Muni in 16 minutes, splash water on my head and stretch a bit. After walking a lap, I begin - 200-300m hard, followed by 200-300m easy, until exhaustion.
Yesterday morning I walked to the fitness park and did 12 sets of exercises and wanted to return in the evening but had the discipline to hold back, so I was hoping the days rest did some good. My legs now felt 90%, everything else being perfect - breathing, energy, strength. What a difference 25 degrees makes - ! - instead of noontime 95 degree heat it was a cloudy cool 70. The first intervals were crisp and I was looking forward to slowing, the stride degrading, weakness setting in. The air was humid and my hair damp. Half way through I decide to run hard for 6 1/2 minutes. When I stopped I was not very tired but the stop watch read 44 minutes, which seemed plenty for intervals. I walked a couple times around the track, sipping water, feeling strong. I did a few sets of exercises and walked home wrapped in a tightly held euphoria.
I expected to shower and head to Tops for breakfast, but after freshening up it was only 9:00 and instead of being tired I felt as if I had yet to do anything, so I decided to walk to the Arcade bus station using a new route. I am concerned the original route will be too risky at 4:30am. I felt no hunger as I started walking, the air breezy and light. I arrived at the station, stall 21, in 70 minutes, the new route being more pleasant and safe. I plan to leave the apartment at 4:30am, should arrive by 5:45. 15 minutes isn't much of a cushion but if I am delayed I can run to the station if needed.
On the walk back I pass the Pagoda Inn again and then cross into a street which is new to me and I find two bookshops. I step into one and pick out Kerouac's Lonesome Traveler. I want to buy it until I see the price, $8.50. I put the book back, thinking “fuck it, I will write my own Lonesome Traveler story.” I know that once Nausea is finished I will be returning to buy the book.
I wasn't planning on eating at the Free Bird but I am only a couple blocks away so I decide some nutrition would be a good idea. I don't want to visit too often because of a superstition I have - the more I see of someone or someplace, the greater the chance of something going wrong. When I arrive the cute Burmese chef is relaxing on the steps, she smiles wide and says hello, I say something goofy, unsure if it is afternoon or morning, which makes her laugh. She asks for my order and I walk to the shaded garden and sit down, still feeling lively and strong.
As I wait for my order I hear someone speaking and when I look up a Thai man stands at my table, holding what looks like a small jar of green paint. “60 baht” he says. I look at the jar, then at him, and tell him I do not know what it is. “50 baht” he replies. Lowering the price does nothing for me because I do not need a jar of green paint. I shake my head and he opens the jar, motioning for me to smell it, and I guess it to be a substance which is applied to the flesh because it reminds me of the 7th grade basketball locker room, the star players rubbing Ben Gay onto their sore legs. I rub my hand back and forth on my arm and he nods. I tell him no, and he replies “40 baht”. I quickly determine that I do not want him going lower than 40 baht, and remembering earlier in the day when I gave a passing beggar 20 baht, I pull out two 20 baht notes. The man takes the money but does not leave. A pretty girl walks by us and he places his index finger next to his crotch and points it up, then down - he is making a sexual reference, but what is he referencing - does he want to fuck the girl that just walked by, or is he a pimp who sells jars of green Ben Gay on the side? I manage a weak smile and he answers my confusion by pulling a package of brown tablets from his pocket, all the while motioning his finger up and down again. Now I understand - he wants to sell me a Thai version of Viagra. Do I really look like a man who can't get it up? I shake my head no, depressed by this thought, and he wanders off.
When I get home I take a nap, and upon waking decide to do a daily double and run to the fitness park for a 32 minute run in late afternoon heat. After 5 sets of exercises I walk to Tops and buy a supper of sushi, yogurt, and kiwi juice. As I wait in line at the bakery counter to buy a kiwi/peach/cherry topped danish, euphoric bliss oozing through my pores, a beautiful dark skinned woman turns to look at me. I ignore her, but she continues to turn and stare. She is with a friend who is paying for bakery items, and the woman says to her friend, "this man needs to pay for his food". Her friend turns around and gives me a quizzical look - yes, I need to pay for my food, and now you think I am an impatient bastard. I decide to look at the pretty woman and she smiles, and I explain that I am in no hurry - when she turns away I am happy I made the effort to look at her.
Arriving home in the late glow of dusk, I shower and as I am drying off a storm rolls in, knocking out the power. I eat my sushi and yogurt in the subdued light of a wet and cloudy evening. When I finish I pick up my guitar and strum to the beat of the rain, mosquitoes nipping at my legs and I hear loneliness slipping into the room. I get into bed, laying beneath the mosquito net, listening to the rain, thinking of time, the dark woman's smile, my lonely existence, and death. I lay there for what seems like hours, almost, almost, grasping the essence of my life. I become weary when the rain stops and close my eyes, another day lost to the past, the next one soon to escape the shadows of the future.
Take that, Jack Kerouac.
