The weekend before this past weekend, I ran the Monument two times one day and three the other. Walked five miles one of those days, and eight the other. As I said, I had hurt my back, and have been trying to let that work itself out, which meant less push-ups. I had taken some days off, but did 100 that Saturday and 120 on Sunday. Why the weird number? Because after doing seventy push-ups, I did an unexpected set of fifty, which is twenty more than I've ever done in a set. I don't know what happened. The freshness from the days off, and I was on grass and had loosened up, so I just kept going.
This past Sunday marked 2282 days, or 326 weeks, without a drink of alcohol. I was talking to an old friend on Saturday, and he said that I must be drinking less than I used to. I told him that it had actually been more than six years now without a drinking. Actually, we started talking while I was finishing running 10,000 at Government Center. I was explaining to him how it's really work. He knows about these people and the war I am in with an industry that wants to destroy me, which I am going to raze to the ground to erect something better in its place. The stairs are part of my job. I will have a heart attack and not be able to endure this strain if I am not in the proper physical condition. The stairs are part of the writing, the creating, the being able to go forward. Can you imagine that level of devotion? To write. To take these people on.
I did 200 push-ups that day, and then on Sunday I did another 100 and ran the Monument five times. As I mentioned, I texted my little mentee about her college situation while doing so--actually need to touch base with her when she's home from school this afternoon before I jump on the radio--and also had an extended conversation about publishing with a friend of mine. That's a good sign--that I can go up and down while partaking of a passionate conversation. The things people in there hear coming out of me. I wonder what they think. I also walked three miles on Sunday.
I'm drinking more black tea, as well as the hibiscus and lots of green tea. Several cartons of peppermint tea--my replacement stock--came in the mail. There is much tea in my routine. Different teas for different things. Green tea is just excellent overall. Hibiscus is for my blood pressure. So is peppermint tea, but not to the same degree, but it helps with muscle recovery and stiffness. Black tea is simply good for the soul.
If a pill is ever invented and you can take it and get the physical benefits of exercise, you should still do the exercise anyway because it does something to the mind and helps mind and body align in shared purpose.
Very few people out today in Boston as I ran 3000 stairs at Government Center. Did 100 push-ups. I have the hockey hair again. I noted I was quite the representative of the region. Boston Bruins beanie, Boston Symphony Orchestra sweatshirt, Boston College sweatpants. I don't know if it's the weather or the result of improved conditioning because of time spent in the Monument--or both--but I had a very easy go of it. Not even a twinge out of breath. A gray, blustery day. Leaves blow away as if in flight, but from what? The transition to autumn has been precipitous this year. I sweat through my sweatshirt, conscious of the warmth my body creates. I feel alive, twined with and aflame in my work. Stay focused. Fight the battles. Be regimented. Make the art. Remain strong. Win the war. As the song says: "Blood in my eyes, my vision is clear."