Sunday, June 6, 2010

Just where does the energy come from?

This weekend has been a strange one. It's hardly the last weekend that I'll have with a Saturday night gig, but it was the first. And, because of the gig (and the great-unknown that was my opportunity to nap), I chose not to work out. Well, I walked the dogs with the kid attached to my chest (see picture, right), plus my "everyday regimen" or situps & pushups, but that was it. It was threatening to rain all day, but I actually thought it would have been a good day to bike. With me needing to stay up until weird hours of the morning, though, the physical activity was minimal. I did not get a chance to nap.

I went to the gig, and rock, it did. The thing about gigs is that they're actually a workout in themselves. I mean, there's the unloading & setup, there's the actual playing. Despite the fact that I'm always drinking a beer, performing takes energy. Those of you who have seen me play know that I'm not somebody who "just sits there". I physically can't play if I'm not moving, and moving a lot. Performing always makes me work up a sweat.

Anyway, the gig isn't the point of this entry (again, many of you may be asking, "there's a point?" . . . screw y'all, I'm getting to it), it's how the rest of the weekend played out.

The horrible case of the missing CJ

I truly feel bad about this one, and it should probably be put on the "parent blog", but more of you read this blog & I think you'll enjoy the story.

I pull in a little after two AM, unlock the front door, & the dogs go crazy (as they're wont to do). I go upstairs to take a look at the sleeping situation. Duffy was asleep, the three dogs were lying down, and CJ was asleep in the bed.

Seeing as he was out cold, I went to put him in his crib. But, as I was still a bit amped up from the gig, I decided to head to watch TV downstairs, rather than wake up my wife.

Well, just as I'm walking down the stairs, I hear a very worried gasp from the wife. Somehow, she had managed to sleep through me walking into the house, the dogs going absolutely crazy, me picking up the kid & delivering him into the crib. Yet, something woke her randomly after all of that & she was convinced that the kid had crawled off the bed or something.

So I finally managed to convince myself to go to bed around 3AM, though I was likely awake until 4. There is no greater high for me than playing in front of a crowd, and getting off of that high takes time. So I only had an hour or two of sleep before CJ started crying.

I got out of bed, threw a bottle in the bottle warmer, changed the kid, and fed him. It didn't take long for him to fall back asleep (maybe I should stop spiking his formula with Ambien?), and I managed another hour or two of sleep.

Right after 7AM, the dogs started wrestling. Well, Hobbes was trying to lick my face / get my attention because he wanted a walk. Snickelfritz was on the floor wondering why I hate him as I won't get out of bed to throw a ball. Cosmo was busy leaping-at and landing-on Hobbes from varying angles of the bed. Somehow, the rib & the kid slept through all of this.

So I walked the dogs around the park a few times.

When I got back in, Duffy had to head out, so I got daddy-duty. CJ & I played. I fed him (at one point, he somehow grabbed a hold of the spoon I was using to feed him & flung sweet potatoes & peas all over the place . . . even had to clean some off of the ceiling), we played some more. He's teething & very fussy . . . but, considering the cute factor that "hold me all of the time" mood isn't the worst thing in the world.

Eventually, he finally went down for a bit of a nap, & I tried to follow the fabled "sleep when baby sleeps" advice. I really did try, but the end of The Evil Dead was on, and I love that movie. I finally managed to close my eyes about 25 minutes after CJ fell asleep, and two minutes later, he was up again.

Then I got hit by a cleaning bug. I should state, up front, that I'm pretty goshdarn messy. I actually have a grand-plan to keep everything orderly & organized, but if I don't have the time to actually do things right, I avoid cleaning. Well, my basement (and there is no complaint to me ever calling it "my basement") was bordering on dangerous to navigate. So, I cleaned it -- started at the desk, then worked my way through the rest of the area -- throwing out what I didn't need, ensuring that anything I did need was in a proper place, and then dusting & mopping (a few years ago, I replaced the indoor/outdoor carpet with rollout "garage flooring" so that any cleanup would be as simple as a pail & a mop). It took several hours. I felt better.

The saga of the baby raccoon

Right at the beginning of my run, I got startled as something moved quickly as I ran past a wooded area. I jumped to avoid whatever it was, stopped, & saw a wounded baby raccoon acting incredibly erratically.

I stopped my run & called 9-1-1.

While I waited for the police to arrive, the owner of the house across the street from where I was standing came out . . . he told me that he'd wait for the cops & that I should get my run on. So I did.

Now, the trail that I run allows me to view the woods that I passed for about a third of the track. I saw the cops arrive as I finished up my first lap. Once I could no longer see what was going on, I heard a gunshot. Cops were still there after my next lap, but they were gone by the time I completed my fourth lap around the park.

I ran four miles in heat & humidity. I was hoping for between seven & ten miles (no real reason for such a goal), but with the early detour (see sidebar, right), the heat, and the realization that the grass was likely mostly dry, I packed things in and went home to mow the lawn.

So, for those keeping track at home: little sleep, hardcore basement cleaning, four mile run, and now I'm mowing the lawn. I really had to question what was up with me. All I can think is, being active leads to your body wanting to be even more active.

Today, I'm at work, and I haven't a clue where my weekend went . . . skipped my morning workout because, well, I just wanted more sleep, but I'm going to plan to finish the lawn (the sun went down as I finished up slaughtering about 2/3 of the damn grass that insists on growing back). I'll see about morning runs and/or bike rides for the rest of the week, but won't be biking into work, just in case "that call" comes in.


Allison said...

What? Are the cops allowed to shoot animals?

John said...

Allison - my writing is probably failing me, but this animal was a public menace. It was walking on three legs, snarling at anything that came close to it, lashing out at anything that moved. If a dog had gotten loose, it would have attacked. Considering it was acting like I'd imagine a rabid raccoon acting, it had to be done.