Eating: a larabar and two Starbursts at 4
Listening: the live webcast of Federer v. Murray
Drinking: long late steeps of the Laobanzhang
Between the last post and my 4 pm call, I didn't really get much done with the drafting, although it was more than I've done in the last week, so I guess that's something. I spent some time looking at wood-burning camping stoves on the internet and reading about winter camping in general. I have this mental image of making matcha from melted snow among the tall still subalpine firs (I think they are firs) of British Columbia, and using twigs from said firs as fuel, and it's a nice image, but my job is undoubtedly more important. Back from the call, I sat right down and hammered out the drafting, and sent it to JS. It's not perfect, but I think it's pretty close to working, and it's good to move the ball forward a bit.
I was getting pretty sleepy on the phone, maybe thanks to the Starburst. I need to think about office snacks. I haven't yet found anything that makes me not hungry but not asleep.
The tail end of the Laobanzhang is so good. It is so sweet and round. I had completely forgotten how good this stuff is. And last I checked I have a lifetime supply of it (the 2006 anyway).
Federer, of course, started fucking up as soon as I turned on the webcast. Not that I can control that.
Showing posts with label focus. Show all posts
Showing posts with label focus. Show all posts
Monday, September 8, 2008
Entry the first
Reading (on train): Control of Nature
Reading (last night): The 'way of the icecube' passage in Nothing Special
Eating: cereal for breakfast, a larabar at 11, a Chop't East Hampton Cobb at the desk for lunch
Just back from the gym, where I did 30' at 3.2mph, on a 15 incline, and 150# pulldowns, 2 2 2 2. The long hard road to being able to do a pullup begins. I am following the one hundred pushups program, on the easiest setting, for pulldowns, with the hope that I will be able to crank up the pulldown amount and/or lose weight to the point where the two numbers converge and pullups will happen. I actually found the pulldowns pretty easy, although I wouldn't have wanted to do more than two in a set. The walking was ok, although I started to feel desperate / caged by the end - an email telling me that JS had called did not help there, as I have been totally procrastinating a minor drafting task for her for four days. I still haven't called her back. My legs did not hurt much despite doing a watered-down version of Mark Twight's "easy" workout on Saturday (60 air squats, run 800m, 60 air squats) and running 2 miles with The Wife and La Monstrita on Sunday. I was hurting yesterday but I feel fine now.
I was not so focused this morning. The drafting is not happening and I need to get cracking on the Chinese legal research too. Instead I read about the Dunblane massacre and its perpetrator.
I meditated last night for 16 minutes and will be going up to 17 tonight. I kind of lost my nerve with about a minute to go, cracked my wrist and checked the time, and I'm not sure what triggered the 'spasm' (as Joko, following Benoit, calls it) but I wasn't able to stay with it and having a learning experience. I think it might have been thinking (competitive thoughts) about JB.
I also had this bizarre dream the night before last - I had to meet someone at an inn, which was in Queens. I took a cab over the bridge (from Manhattan) and descended into a kind of sprawling rural slum, with dirt roads and huge overhanging banyan trees, the sort of landscape you'd expect to see in Burma or Cambodia. The road was swarming with streetwalkers, hundreds of them, all clearly Southeast Asian. We got to the inn, which was a little two-and-a-half story farmstead next to the road, and I walked past some more hookers who were sitting around the courtyard and started climbing an exterior ladder to the attic / loft. As I got to the top, I looked down and realized that I had climbed past the two people I was to meet, two Buddhist monks, who were sitting on a porch on the second floor. They noticed me at the same time, and gassho'd, and I gassho'd back, feeling incredibly relieved and open.
Reading (last night): The 'way of the icecube' passage in Nothing Special
Eating: cereal for breakfast, a larabar at 11, a Chop't East Hampton Cobb at the desk for lunch
Just back from the gym, where I did 30' at 3.2mph, on a 15 incline, and 150# pulldowns, 2 2 2 2. The long hard road to being able to do a pullup begins. I am following the one hundred pushups program, on the easiest setting, for pulldowns, with the hope that I will be able to crank up the pulldown amount and/or lose weight to the point where the two numbers converge and pullups will happen. I actually found the pulldowns pretty easy, although I wouldn't have wanted to do more than two in a set. The walking was ok, although I started to feel desperate / caged by the end - an email telling me that JS had called did not help there, as I have been totally procrastinating a minor drafting task for her for four days. I still haven't called her back. My legs did not hurt much despite doing a watered-down version of Mark Twight's "easy" workout on Saturday (60 air squats, run 800m, 60 air squats) and running 2 miles with The Wife and La Monstrita on Sunday. I was hurting yesterday but I feel fine now.
I was not so focused this morning. The drafting is not happening and I need to get cracking on the Chinese legal research too. Instead I read about the Dunblane massacre and its perpetrator.
I meditated last night for 16 minutes and will be going up to 17 tonight. I kind of lost my nerve with about a minute to go, cracked my wrist and checked the time, and I'm not sure what triggered the 'spasm' (as Joko, following Benoit, calls it) but I wasn't able to stay with it and having a learning experience. I think it might have been thinking (competitive thoughts) about JB.
I also had this bizarre dream the night before last - I had to meet someone at an inn, which was in Queens. I took a cab over the bridge (from Manhattan) and descended into a kind of sprawling rural slum, with dirt roads and huge overhanging banyan trees, the sort of landscape you'd expect to see in Burma or Cambodia. The road was swarming with streetwalkers, hundreds of them, all clearly Southeast Asian. We got to the inn, which was a little two-and-a-half story farmstead next to the road, and I walked past some more hookers who were sitting around the courtyard and started climbing an exterior ladder to the attic / loft. As I got to the top, I looked down and realized that I had climbed past the two people I was to meet, two Buddhist monks, who were sitting on a porch on the second floor. They noticed me at the same time, and gassho'd, and I gassho'd back, feeling incredibly relieved and open.
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