लिखा निष्क्रियता

My decision to run today was ill-advised, I decided as I reached my 2^nd mile.  Instead of springing out of bed at 6am, drinking some raw eggs and knocking out 6 or 7 miles, I slumped up at 7:15, stared at the wall for about an hour, and eventually puttered out the door at 9:30 for a surprisingly disheartening display of ineptitude. 

I decided to run to my new apartment—a little more than a mile away—and then loop around a few neighborhoods and run the way home lakeside.  I did my best to keep my breathing slow, since every morning still brings a few gurgles from my lungs.  In theory, this is a smart thing to do; in practice, it just makes you look pathetic.  A slow pace after a 4-month hiatus is understandable, but couple that with congested lungs and you’ll only draw pity from onlookers.  It’s particularly stupid to wear Under Armor during one of these outings; the aggressive advertising imagine defined by unnecessarily cut mannequins only works to make me look worse as I’m repeatedly lapped by power walking old ladies. 

After 36 minutes of pure hell I take a cool down lap, have a little cry, hit the showers, and head into town.  Even though I’ve already had a sandwich at the house, I decide that I’m hungry and head into Rainier Square, uncharted territory for me.  Searching around I realize that few, if any, of the restaurants are independents—this will violate my ‘no chain’ policy that I’ve adopted.  After an internal struggle that ended with the rational that I had already eaten at Dick’s several times, I decide on Bombay Walla Walla, an Indian restaurant with chicken masala on special.  Sold. 

Waddling out of Rainier Square with a gut full or rice and chicken, I decide to change things up and go to the Tully’s on Virginia and 1^st street rather than the one by Pike’s place.  It’s an amazing change to write exactly two blocks east of your normal location.  I can’t decide if it speaks more to the pervasiveness of the company or to the habitual nature of its unemployed customer base. 

Here I sit and work.  This Tully’s is less remarkable than the other one, but the genuine happiness on the part of the baristas makes up for the lack of fireplace.  I’m sure it’s company policy, but they play it so well that they really seem to mean it.  It’s weird, but it makes me want to spend more money.  How about that.