Yesterday we went to the nearby Six Flags, I suspect because the people here are constantly on edge lest overworked young engineering students decide to do the Evil Deed. Or it could be the happier possibility: that people just like having fun. Actually, now that I think about it, that was probably the case. It was deathly hot, which was initially not very fun, though after a while one gets used to these things. Or not. I've always had a thing for roller coasters, and the ones at Six Drapeaux did not disappoint. Pictures were taken, of me and Nicky, in various states of disgrace, for different reasons, which I've decided are not important enough to warrant elaboration. Anyway, fun, fun, fun, and all that. Blew $3 on a basketball game I didn't win. (You got one chance to make a shot, and the prize was a basketball, which should have tipped me off that it wasn't going to be as easy as I thought.) Food was had. And then we returned. It wasn't all that remarkable, I suppose, aside from the occasional sightings of people I knew by sight. The Lord knows there aren't very many of those. There is, naturally, less dignity in being caught staring than finding yourself stared at, and there is some debate in academic circles as to which is the more discomfiting; but at the end of the day, what does it matter? I'm a chronicler: not a memoirist.
So today I went on a run, after almost two years, and it wasn't too bad. Obviously I'm a little rusty, but I managed 2.5 miles of running and walking. I seem to recall my doc saying something like, "LISTEN TO THY BODY," when asked whether I could or couldn't run, so I asked my body today, and the answer was a... What do you know? It was a resounding yes! But on a serious note, she was quite certain that my thing was not caused by running to begin with, and there was nothing wrong with running, if it didn't hurt. Which I'm happy to report, it didn't. She did, however, say that swimming was highly recommended, and I was willing to give that a try, however reluctantly, before I discovered how gosh-awfully filthy the locker room here was. You can have the nicest pool in the world, but if the locker room looks like the CDC might have to be called in to scope the place out before it can be declared safe for human use, then no thank you. There was nothing overtly disgusting about it that I can remember, but it just struck me as unclean. Subliminally, I suppose - in kind of an orange gas-lighting kind of way. Naked old men waiting their turn in front of misty shower stalls, turning slowly to fix you with a cold dead stare. The locker room at the club in India didn't subliminally gross me out to this extent, and the pool there was GREEN at least two days a week. I honestly don't know why I looked forward to swimming there each summer.
I actually think I feel a lot better after running today. Both physically and spiritually. The air seems to have a peculiar pleasant smell when you're running that you're somehow not aware of when you're walking, and the heat doesn't annoy you as much. Some of my best memories from undergrad involve running around the expansive campus, and life would be a burden indeed, if I were forced to live out my one life in a little bubble. Not that I'm trying to defy the doctor's orders in a sudden crazed burst of YOLO or anything. I will go back to silently cursing swimming in my bedroom or staring blankly at the television screen on the stationary cycle, if I feel that running is in fact, exacerbating my condition. But until then: YDOLO.
And on a COMPLETELY unrelated note, I like watching JUSTICE caught on camera from time to time on YouTube and elsewhere. It reminds me that justice is alive and well in this world, after the existence of organized crime groups like FIITJEE disposed me to believe otherwise. I just remembered a story my mom told me about my maternal grandmother when they lived in New Delhi (for reasons that I've forgotten, but they must have been good to compel them to move to New Delhi). It was the middle of the day. The kids were at school, and my grandfather was at work, so my grandmother was home alone. She saw some men (or a man) harassing a young woman from up in her balcony, and poured boiling water from the kettle on them (or him). I don't know any more details, but this is a great example of an occasion on which it could have been said of the world that justice was alive and kicking in it. My grandmother seems to have been quite amazing in her youth. Pity her son's a good-for-nothing neurotic.
So today I went on a run, after almost two years, and it wasn't too bad. Obviously I'm a little rusty, but I managed 2.5 miles of running and walking. I seem to recall my doc saying something like, "LISTEN TO THY BODY," when asked whether I could or couldn't run, so I asked my body today, and the answer was a... What do you know? It was a resounding yes! But on a serious note, she was quite certain that my thing was not caused by running to begin with, and there was nothing wrong with running, if it didn't hurt. Which I'm happy to report, it didn't. She did, however, say that swimming was highly recommended, and I was willing to give that a try, however reluctantly, before I discovered how gosh-awfully filthy the locker room here was. You can have the nicest pool in the world, but if the locker room looks like the CDC might have to be called in to scope the place out before it can be declared safe for human use, then no thank you. There was nothing overtly disgusting about it that I can remember, but it just struck me as unclean. Subliminally, I suppose - in kind of an orange gas-lighting kind of way. Naked old men waiting their turn in front of misty shower stalls, turning slowly to fix you with a cold dead stare. The locker room at the club in India didn't subliminally gross me out to this extent, and the pool there was GREEN at least two days a week. I honestly don't know why I looked forward to swimming there each summer.
I actually think I feel a lot better after running today. Both physically and spiritually. The air seems to have a peculiar pleasant smell when you're running that you're somehow not aware of when you're walking, and the heat doesn't annoy you as much. Some of my best memories from undergrad involve running around the expansive campus, and life would be a burden indeed, if I were forced to live out my one life in a little bubble. Not that I'm trying to defy the doctor's orders in a sudden crazed burst of YOLO or anything. I will go back to silently cursing swimming in my bedroom or staring blankly at the television screen on the stationary cycle, if I feel that running is in fact, exacerbating my condition. But until then: YDOLO.
And on a COMPLETELY unrelated note, I like watching JUSTICE caught on camera from time to time on YouTube and elsewhere. It reminds me that justice is alive and well in this world, after the existence of organized crime groups like FIITJEE disposed me to believe otherwise. I just remembered a story my mom told me about my maternal grandmother when they lived in New Delhi (for reasons that I've forgotten, but they must have been good to compel them to move to New Delhi). It was the middle of the day. The kids were at school, and my grandfather was at work, so my grandmother was home alone. She saw some men (or a man) harassing a young woman from up in her balcony, and poured boiling water from the kettle on them (or him). I don't know any more details, but this is a great example of an occasion on which it could have been said of the world that justice was alive and kicking in it. My grandmother seems to have been quite amazing in her youth. Pity her son's a good-for-nothing neurotic.
2 comments :
Those disgraceful photos will be up, soon. xD
I hope to swim regularly. We shall see if I manage to, this week.
Roomie told me a similar story when she threw 2 buckets of water from the third floor at people blasting music outside an old age home, when they refused to move despite requests, and the police gave up as well.
They never returned. :P
Justice works in unexpected ways. Haha
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