Before I left my former school in Canada, I moved from the third floor to the first floor. I did this for two reasons: 1. All of my student leadership activities were on the first floor, and; 2. I hated running up and down flights of stairs just to get from my classroom to the office to the gym and back again.
Then I moved to Jakarta. My school is in a high-rise building. There are something like seven floors of parking before you even get to my school. Once inside, my school has LG (lower ground), G (ground), and UG (upper ground) floors. Then, floors one through eight. Here’s a little math for you: take 400 students; divide by two elevators; multiply by eleven floors…and you get a great number of stairs that must be negotiated every day. It’s easier, and harder, to run the stairs than it is to wait for an elevator. Plus, it’s a good workout. I guess I can eat a little more at dinner tomorrow.
The photo, above, was taken on the sixth floor looking down to the Ground Floor. I guess that makes it nine floors down that you’re seeing. Weirdly abstract.
I’ve been a good boy lately. I’ve been eating right. I’ve been exercising. I’ve been watching my calories, both consumed and expended. But last night I indulged. I haven’t had pizza in quite a while, but we ordered Ricardo’s last night. I ordered my own special: ground beef, ham, and pepperoni. Maybe the least healthy food I’ve eaten in quite some time.
But it was so good. I think it tasted better because I hadn’t had pizza in such a long time. Either way, it was good.
I don’t know what this means to you, but lately the lowly, and often loathed, bathroom scale has been my friend.
In the past, I’ve avoided it. Snubbed my nose at it. I didn’t want to hear what it had to say (or read, I guess). But lately?
Lately, it’s been friendly.
I’m not talking about zombies, although I do love them a lot.
I’m talking about those things that grow on you, those things that take on a life of their own. Those things that you have and wear and keep for a long time and when it comes time to retire them you’re not sure if you want to get rid of them or bronze them.
It’s pretty stupid, really. They are just things, after all. It is a solid reminder of the consumption-driven lives most of us lead. It is a symptom of a society that is becoming enamored of things and not people, of virtual relationships rather than actual relationships. It’s the purse you can’t part with, the iPod that finally charged one last time, the VCR that still plays but not well. In my case, it’s a pair of ASICS Fortitudes that have almost given up the ghost. They hug me in just the right way. They support me. They…
…are inanimate. And they will have to go soon.
This is a dragon boat. I’ve taken the photo from the front end of the boat. If you’ve not seen a dragon boat race, look it up. They’re quite amazing.