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One of my general Mrissish rules is, "Listen to the body." This is often useful: I can manage to improve my mood by noticing that I need a cup of water, or to be more productive having lots of veggies at noon and remembering to throw in some small protein source with that. And so on. As with the rest of life, paying attention can be remarkably effective.
But -- as with paying attention elsewhere in life -- occasionally it is a pain in the butt. For awhile, riding 5-6 miles on the bike several times a week was enough. Now I'm noticing that I get fidgety at night unless it's 9-10. This doesn't mean that I have more energy to stay up later -- it just means that the last few hours I'm awake are less pleasant. The solution to this is obvious, and I'm doing it. But it takes more time, and I have the feeling that by the time 9-10 miles at this uphill setting takes the same amount of time 5-6 miles used to, it won't be enough, either. Ideally there will not be an infinite upwards-spiral of more bike with the threat of fidgets hanging over my head. We'll deal with that as it comes, I guess.
In the meantime, it's meant a shift in routine. Five or six miles was often doable before the dog woke up; nine or ten will almost always come after the dog wakes up (with her staring at me from the couch and sighing disgustedly -- this is not one of the good monkey games), and reading through all ten miles turns out to be no longer comfortable on my back even with the recumbent seat, so I've been watching bits of Veronica Mars Season 1. For every problem a solution, and it's nice when extra Weevil counts as a solution to something.
I am not going to finish writing this book today. I am not going to finish writing this book this week. This is not to remind you folks but to remind myself: the book is allowed to run away with me a bit, but not indefinitely. So.
But -- as with paying attention elsewhere in life -- occasionally it is a pain in the butt. For awhile, riding 5-6 miles on the bike several times a week was enough. Now I'm noticing that I get fidgety at night unless it's 9-10. This doesn't mean that I have more energy to stay up later -- it just means that the last few hours I'm awake are less pleasant. The solution to this is obvious, and I'm doing it. But it takes more time, and I have the feeling that by the time 9-10 miles at this uphill setting takes the same amount of time 5-6 miles used to, it won't be enough, either. Ideally there will not be an infinite upwards-spiral of more bike with the threat of fidgets hanging over my head. We'll deal with that as it comes, I guess.
In the meantime, it's meant a shift in routine. Five or six miles was often doable before the dog woke up; nine or ten will almost always come after the dog wakes up (with her staring at me from the couch and sighing disgustedly -- this is not one of the good monkey games), and reading through all ten miles turns out to be no longer comfortable on my back even with the recumbent seat, so I've been watching bits of Veronica Mars Season 1. For every problem a solution, and it's nice when extra Weevil counts as a solution to something.
I am not going to finish writing this book today. I am not going to finish writing this book this week. This is not to remind you folks but to remind myself: the book is allowed to run away with me a bit, but not indefinitely. So.
