For starters, please view these pictures of me. Please imagine for the next sentences leading up to the pictures that I am an Italian with a really bad handle of the English language. Okay, go: I am, how do you say, trying to train for a triathlon. But I am, how do you say, an amateur with no real gear. So I am, how do you say, a hodgepodge of a number of different outfits to create this look. I am, how do you say, ridiculous looking, no?
You like-ah what you see-ah?
I'm pretty proud of myself for that outfit, though. The plan was to bike to campus 4 miles away for a brick workout, where I would immediately get off my bike and run a couple miles on the track. Then I would go to the pool and swim 40 laps and immediately jump back on my bike and ride home. That way I could practice the brick workout, or the training needed for my body to understand the transition between activities in a real triathlon. Its called a brick workout because your legs feel like bricks (lead, tired, deadwood, etc) when transitioning from the bike to running.
I needed to get to campus with all the gear for the entire workout. Look closer. Everything I need I'm wearing or holding. In my pockets I have a headband for running, goggles and a cap for swimming, an energy treat, 2 dollars for a drink if necessary, my id, and the keys to my lock. I'm wearing a helmet for biking and glasses for biking and running. Plus, I have a gatorade with me. Everything I need is on me.
I biked to school and did a track work out, then biked home. I jogged 3 miles at a 7 minute mile pace, then ran quarter miles at 80 seconds apiece, in between jogged quarter mile laps. I didn't swim because the pool was closed. Le suck. The bike home made me realize 2 things. One, you can haul ass on a bike. I biked down college and was passing cars because they had to stop for other cars and what not. I was not doing anything too dangerous, just biking really really fast. Off of college I hit Claremont and made a right. For some reason, the couple times that I've made this turn no cars have been around. I took off. Since the bike home is downhill, just barely, I only picked up momentum. At one point I must have been going 25 to 30 miles an hour. No joke. Le speed.
And 2, I can get in shape by running every day (I'm up to 188 days at 4.49 miles everyday), but to be a real athlete you need more than one sport. I forgot how much I enjoyed biking and I went out of my way to take the long way home. Le fun.
I came home, gave a crackhead my unused 2 bucks, got scolded by my neighbor for doing so, and went upstairs and showered. Traci and I decided to go out to eat and we went to this little restaurant that I passed a couple times on the way to Berkeley called the Seed of Life. I love my wife so much for being willing to try (and like) the same things that I do.
This place is a new restaurant open in the evenings that only served organic vegan food. Before you call me a dirty hippy, I must tell you that this was some of the best food I've had in my life.
To me, the litmus test of good vegetarian food isn't on taste alone, but whether or not a non-vegetarian could forget about meat for a meal. In this case, I think the answer would be yes. Traci bought a sweet potato with rice wrapped in Kale wrap that was fantastic. I ordered a very tasty portabello mushroom burger. Also great. The food was fresh and prepared with thoughtfulness. Both orders came with salad that had flower petals in it. What a touch.
Before we ate, I had to walk to an ATM. And I had this old debate with myself that has been going on inside of me since as long as I can remember. I thought about the randomness of the situation. Us being in Berkeley, happening upon a small restaraunt, that is exactly what we were looking for, that was open at 930 PM when we finally got out the door, that is the perfect answer for the solution of the moment. How did all that happen? It seemed that there were so many variables and choices in the world that for things to work out exactly at any given moment is impressive. More importantly, the daunting question to me is how do you make sense of all of this and how to you decipher whats best when our actual choices feel like such an insignificant portion of the equation?
To be honest, that used to frighten the hell out of me and is why I stayed inside so much. I was deathly afraid of the outdoors because of the random nature of it all. On a hypocritical note, I was also very uncomfortable in non-random environments that were faked and forced, like Disneyland or the Grove in LA. I think that what that meant to me is that this thought process of staying indoors was more an issue of depression than an actual philosophical argument. Then again, maybe not.
I realized as I was going to the ATM, that the goal shouldn't be to somehow tame the beast of randomness or figure everything out or read every book, or see every sight, but at very fucking least, you better try your ass off to do it all. I'm a wreck when it comes to book lists. Mine is pages long and it always feels inadequate. I always feel like I'm missing some important text or there is some piece I still need to read. This overwhelming amount of choice led me to not choose at all. Which just exasperbates the situation to being with and is FALSE. But just because this isn't true, doesn't mean I should stop reading or stop trying. Every day I should be trying to fill up my day with as much as I can. Because its a helluva big world out there and there's plenty to see and do. I'll never get to it all. Its impossible. but I should be trying.
I have a friend named Paul who seems to espouse this philosophy without ever saying it outloud. He recently received is phD in literature. I will talk about him a lot is my guess. I rarely see him. He is always doing something. Up until recently, I saw him once every 6 months because he was so busy. He doesn't lie, but he told me he was going to be in SF at least 3 times this summer. He hasn't made it up once yet because he is so busy doing things. There are tradeoffs and pluses and minuses to everything, so I understand. Especially when he tells me he is going ot the democratic national convention. As long as I have known him, he has never once skipped a beat. Its always been quick in, quick out, but always moving. Thats impressive and inspiring. In some strange way, kind of what I think life is all about.
Now do I need to say something metaphoric about the restaraunt being called the Seed of Life to wrap up this story? Or did you figure it out on your own?
As I was walking back to the restaraunt, I was floating. FLOATING. I don't have it all figured out. What I do have is a wonderful partner to share this life with and an outlook that I think will last me until I'm 150 years old. There is no price that I can put on this and nothing that I would change about the situation at all.
I went back inside and enjoyed the rest of the evening.
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