Four-day fitness

Monday 3/2/26

Took the trash out at 3:40. Set the bag down, did twenty push-ups in hallway. Then, down the stairs to the street. Cold is back. Checked the temperature. 12 degrees. Did ten more push-ups downstairs by the mailboxes. Then ten more back upstairs. Drank some no-fat milk and hibiscus tea for my heart. Took my daily swig of virgin olive oil. Right from the bottle. I don't live in a proper home. That will be later if I ever do and my body isn't found here. Trying to make sure everything I undertake, no matter what it is, has value to it regarding my overall objectives.

Some fitness accounting.

On Thursday, I ran 6000 stairs at City Hall and did 100 push-ups. Friday I ran 3000 stairs at City Hall and walked three miles and did 100 push-ups. Saturday I ran 5000 stairs at City Hall and walked four miles and did 100 push-ups. Yesterday I ran 6000 stairs at City Hall and walked ten miles and did 100 push-ups. That's an average of 5000 stairs a day over four days, which is decent. Yesterday marked 3514 days, or 502 weeks, without a drink.

I had a plan. The weather was warming up. I thought, "Okay, gut your way through 6000 stairs this morning at City Hall, then step back on Monday and Tuesday, be ready to spring into action when the Monument reopens Wednesday with the warm weather that is coming."

I do my thing at City Hall, I come back and shower, opt for a lighter jacket, this sort of half-trench coat, get out into the hall, look out the window...and discover it's snowing again! Hard! Just like that in the interval!

And down went my plans. Or maybe not. Will have to see.

Swapped the light coat for a heavier one, and walked most of those ten miles in the snow before it tapered off. None of it stuck save to provide a white layer on top of the dirty mounds that were already there.

If I had to guess, the Monument will be closed Wednesday-Friday, but reopen on the weekend, when it's supposed to be near sixty degrees, because you can't fudge things in the "We have a lot of snow inside of the obelisk!" sense when it's that warm.

But my Monument guesses are often wrong. For instance, I thought it'd almost certainly be open on Saturday and it wasn't.

I was thinking yesterday how I take very little Advil. It isn't as if I do what I do and then think, "Wow, am I sore," and reach for the stuff. I can be sore. I was yesterday. But whatever soreness there was is completely gone when I wake up in the morning. Just washes away.

There aren't many people out at six, seven, even eight o'clock in the morning in Boston on the weekend. I think on the above days at the stairs I arrived at various times within that window. No earlier than six, no later than eight.

I'll usually only encounter a few people--maybe a dozen over the course of an hour--if I turn up at, say, seven on a Sunday. Yesterday, an attractive woman, say, about thirty-years-old, saw me running up the stairs, which meant that we went past each other as I was coming down.

I'm actually very friendly when engaged in these situations (and others). Despite what I know about the world and most people now in it. And, of course, with everything I am going through. Everything that is, in my life.

Anyway, she said, "That's a great workout," and I gave a little laugh between the deep breaths I was taking. It occurred to me that you wouldn't say this to someone you thought was older than you. It's the remark one makes to a contemporary. Or younger.

I mention this because I have to battle the clock. Given how it's been for so long, given all that I'm up against. And all I'm trying to do. I have everything against me--it's millions of things--and next to nothing working for me, and certainly no one working on my behalf or in my corner. Time matters here. I have to live for a long time. I probably have no shot anyway. For anything, let alone what I'm trying to do, which is impact this world to the good more than anyone ever has. Help move humanity towards something better. Drag it if necessary.

This isn't vanity. I've not so much as held a woman's hand in eleven years. I am completely alone. I write, I create, I work, I run stairs. Sometimes, I go to museums, the symphony, hockey games, films, the ballet. But even all that ties in to the larger things, the same as taking out the trash this morning kind of did. I have to break it down this way. And everything is a possible contributor for me with what I do and who I am.

A last note about this woman: I knew she was going to say something before she did. People give off energy. There are energy bonds. We're familiar with people who give off attitude; that's a form of energy, too. Some people have welcoming and friendly energy. Fewer people than in times past. But you still sometimes encounter it. Though I can see a day coming when you don't because it's been wiped from out of us.

Christmas decorations remains everywhere. Wreaths on doors. Wreaths hanging from lampposts at Government Center near the Bill Russell statue. Christmas decor in the windows of stores, restaurants.

Outdoor Christmas decorations are put up when it's cold, but they aren't removed until it's warm again. Isn't that strange? Because this winter has been more winter-y, the signs of the holiday have persisted into March.

There are these large chains in North Square that box off the center portion of the square. In November, they're wrapped in fabricated green boughs and vines with ribbons. These remain. They'll perhaps be removed by this coming weekend, with those aforementioned vernal temps.