The Visible Woman...June 30, 2003

The club is really a mystical thing to me. Something I dreamed that almost meets my expectations. Exceeds them in some ways. But has the capacity to disappoint me, just as I can disappoint myself.

Physical activity always was part of my dream life. (I used to actively daydream about it, too, to the point of writing down 'a perfect day.' In actual dreams, I'm often paralyzed...crawling at best when I'd wish to run.) Because of the way you feel after working out I wanted to do it often. And I also wanted to capture and hold the way you feel when you get stronger, more flexible, lighter.

I've also always dreamed about a place where you could play tennis on really nice courts and have a drink or some food with your pals when you were done.

My club almost does it for me. Except that I can't find a partner for a semi-regular game. And I haven't learned to play Bridge. And the food is good but not always great. And they don't have my absolutely favorite aerobic machines nor do they always keep the machines they have that I like best in good repair. And there are the pesky kids, too.

Still, it's almost perfect. Today I did some time on the bike and then put on some clean shorts and a shirt and socks and my tennis shoes and did a two hour tennis clinic. Then I did some ab work and a few more miutes of biking. I felt good in that "I'm tired but I drank enough water and I'll feel great after a shower" way.

Still. I need to find a regular buddy for a real tennis match here and there. I need to sit around on the patio and have cocktails. I need to learn to play Bridge.

Monday, June 30, 2003

A Journal from Austin, Texas. A Project of LBFFP Stealth Publishing.
food	reading	writing	time	exercise	health and mood

the club	the club The club is really a mystical thing to me. Something I dreamed that almost meets my expectations. Exceeds them in some ways. But has the capacity to disappoint me, just as I can disappoint myself. Physical activity always was part of my dream life. (I used to actively daydream about it, too, to the point of writing down 'a perfect day.' In actual dreams, I'm often paralyzed...crawling at best when I'd wish to run.) Because of the way you feel after working out I wanted to do it often. And I also wanted to capture and hold the way you feel when you get stronger, more flexible, lighter. I've also always dreamed about a place where you could play tennis on really nice courts and have a drink or some food with your pals when you were done. My club almost does it for me. Except that I can't find a partner for a semi-regular game. And I haven't learned to play Bridge. And the food is good but not always great. And they don't have my absolutely favorite aerobic machines nor do they always keep the machines they have that I like best in good repair. And there are the pesky kids, too. Still, it's almost perfect. Today I did some time on the bike and then put on some clean shorts and a shirt and socks and my tennis shoes and did a two hour tennis clinic. Then I did some ab work and a few more miutes of biking. I felt good in that "I'm tired but I drank enough water and I'll feel great after a shower" way. Still. I need to find a regular buddy for a real tennis match here and there. I need to sit around on the patio and have cocktails. I need to learn to play Bridge.
JUST TYPING I dreamed it. And it was Bridge and Tennis. Now I must live it.
		Food Diary. Couple of small bowls of spinach and other greens with green onions, garlic chips, cheese and dressing. Three slices of turkey bacon. (That's a funny thing, isn't it? Turkey bacon?) a small amount of cheese and one or two chips a few more chips chips, salsa, some wine cup of Fonda San Miguel corn soup Fish with tomato, caper, olive sauce and a little black beans and rice More wine A few bites of caramel crepes and ice cream espresso
		Time flies.... Two hours on the tennis court...what a luxury, what a waste.

		Reading. Courting Danger by Alice Marble (and another writer) is not literary genius but it's certainly interesting to someone interested in tennis and WWII.
		Set aside an hour and worked on my self-help book. No, it's not called Finding Time to Write. Got interrupted a few times. Perhaps a self-help book on how not to be interrupted?
		Exercise Thirty minutes on the bike, Two hour tennis clinic. Some ab work. Fifteen minutes on the bike.
	.	Feel OK but a little adrift. 122/72 64