El diablo susurro en mi oído,
no eres lo suficientemente fuerte
para resistir la tormenta.
Yo le susurré al oído,
“YO SOY LA TORMENTA”
—Azara Garcia de los Salmones Marcano, Ultra runner extraordinaire.
Translation:
The devil whispered in my ear,
you are not strong enough
to resist the storm.
I whispered in his ear,
“I AM THE STORM”
The backyard smells lovely this morning. Smells and feels like Ambleside, my favourite getaway in the UK.
I fell in love with Ambleside because it smells and feels like the Shimla we grew up in. Slightly chilly, wet and fresh.
I haven’t visited either place in a while. Must correct this.
One guy in a complicated, high-tech face mask.
One guy wearing two(!) face masks, one over the other.
Everyone else going about without a care in the world.
Source, via this isn’t happiness
Everything about this photo is … ❤️
The strength in her left arm. Her erect posture, and core strength; no sinking hips.
The heels on her shoes. The wicker basket. The way she’s balancing the basket with her knee. And so how her right heel is so slightly lifted to help bend the knee.
The baby, unbothered by her state but keeping an eye on something. Sharing the carrier bag with the produce, nonchalance.
The clean, but not western supermarket clean, produce on display. Pedestrians all around.
The birthmark, or otherwise, on her right forearm. The angle of bend in the right arm. The strength, and maybe stress, in her shoulders.
The handsome guy with the dark red suitcase. He’s either checking her out, or the produce. His suitcase!
The guy, dressed like my dad in photos of his 20s & 30s, carrying a wire mesh bag.
The white shoes of the woman in the background, sharply in contrast with her well tanned legs.
So much more… but I keep returning to the first thing I see every time… the strength in that arm, those shoulders and her core.
Asceticism was a virtue in life and business, he believed. “People live more on what they do not eat,” he once said.
—From The Guardian, in ‘The Aldi effect’
Got this in the mail today.
I have mixed feelings.
My first thought was, ‘Can I afford it?’ Checked the website. It’s £79 to confirm my spot. That’s 2x what the London marathon entry costs. I’d take the London marathon over this any day, even without the price difference. But I don’t have a spot in the London marathon; I have a spot in this. Also, I’ve run the London marathon twice but never ridden this event. R has ridden this twice and used to suggest that I will enjoy it.
Checking the registration price was not to decide if I should pay the entry fee. I had already made that decision. I’ll pay. The price check was to see how big the hole would be.
The entry fee isn’t the big expense for this ride. Maintaining and fuelling the bike and the body through the wear and tear of training will cost a lot more. Maybe I can go all indie and start experimenting with home-made food on rides. I fully plan to employ R as my free bike mechanic—given her training and access to tools in her job. The event is in August, so I can delay starting training till after the Paris marathon in April. That delay will help since then I don’t need a lot of winter riding gear. My one cycling jacket and one long tights should suffice for the few cold rides I’ll suffer.
Writing this down has helped calm the anxiety a bit. It’s doable. It’ll be a stretch on the money, time and energy, but it’s doable.
Breathe.
It’s sunny and still. It’s beautiful.
Todo.txt for Android became the first1 app to cross the 1% supporter mark. All voluntary, no promotions.
Weight is down.
Good music in the background all morning.
Back up to 3 pull-ups.
Doing ‘new’ work—challenging, sometimes frustrating, but always rewarding and teaching.
I’m loving my bald head.
Today’s a good day.
I am strongly in the remain camp when it comes to Brexit. Even though I don’t use social media, my well-known position on this topic means that I live in a sort of IRL filter bubble—I don’t know many people who are strongly pro-Brexit. I know a few soft Brexit supporters, I know a few agnostics and waverers, and I know a lot of remainers. I don’t know many strongly pro-Brexit supporters.
I have followed Brian’s blog for nearly a decade now. I discovered him as a regular commentator on another cyclist’s blog. He used to mostly blog about his cycle rides. Brian recently posted his views on Brexit. He is a strong supporter of Brexit; he hints at his reasons in the post.
It is illuminating for me to read the view of the other side—not what the Leave leaders spout, but what the leave supporters on the ground believe.
Brian’s post: Brexit, The Exit.
Please note: I will not comment or debate on viability or correctness of his views. They are his views and he is entitled to them, just as I am to mine. If anyone reading this post wants to debate with him, please be courteous.
Remember the horn effect: just because his views are different from ours in one small sphere of life, doesn’t make him different or bad in any other aspect.
For views similar more aligned to mine, here’s some light reading to ease the heart: Former European colony declares independence
What I want is a fuck buddy.
What I need is a cry buddy.
Score hit 1600 on one page. Up.
Another proposal rejected, apparently withouta second read, by a team marketing solution for second reads. Down.
Spoke to ma pa for nearly 90 minutes. Up.
Had a short, 5-minute angry rant midway. Down.
Rested all day and stretched twice. Up.
Legs are still stiff and hurting, with 10 miles on the training plan tomorrow. Down.
Played and snuggled with boy. Up.
Lying alone on the sofa thinking bad thoughts, when I should be asleep. Down.
