Monday is a long day with a one day turnaround on a job from the boss that should normally take a lot longer. I blow off all other responsibilities and get it done to a sufficient degree. I get home and need stress relief. After 6 weeks of good lifting it's time for a week of strategic deconditioning (in HST terminology) so lifting is out of the question. But I know that when emotions and stress overcome me there is only one thing to do: Go to the river!
I take off running for the Los Angeles river. I reach the river and run along it for quite a while. I then turn around and retrace my steps towards home. But this is still not enough so I take a detour and make a lap or so around a local park. I finish up the run at 9 miles. If I recall correctly this is the longest run I've had since the old half marathon days in the early 90's.
On Tuesday night we have an ice hockey game. Early in the first period I rush the puck from neutral ice, past a couple defenders, and in behind the opposing team's net. I see that the goalie doesn't quite have his leg against the post so I poke the puck towards the net and it caroms off the back of the goalie's leg and into the net for a goal. We continue to score other goals throughout the game, but my goal stands for the longest time as the game winner. But a later breakdown in defense on our part results in our goalie losing his shutout and my goal not being the game winner. But we still win.
Wednesday is a frustrating day at work as newbies think that they know better than 30 years of industry standard practice. When I've had enough I know there is one thing to do: go to the river. So I jump on the mountain bicycle and have a windy, sunny ride along the Los Angeles river, around the aquarium, and back home. But I'm still frustrated so I blow off the resourcescout meeting and do things to alleviate stress and frustration.
Thursday is another frustrating day at Northrop Grumman. I leave just after 4pm to take the motorcycle in for a tuneup. I'm on my way home and I've just changed lanes from the fast lane to the next fastest lane when I see that another car is going to come from the other side into this same lane. I squeeze back towards the fast lane (but stay in my lane) and watch as the driver of the offending car sees me at the last minute and tugs hard on the wheel to go back into his original lane. There is no reason to be mad anymore because: 1) There was at least a foot between me and the car, and 2) I just don't care anymore.
Taking the motorcycle in for the tuneup involves putting the bicycle in the back of the truck, driving to the motorcycle dealer and dropping the truck off, riding home on the bicycle (a 35 minute ride), jumping on the motorcycle and riding it to the dealer, doing the paperwork, and driving the truck home. This standard process goes off without a hitch even though it takes about two hours to complete.
The salesman who sold me the motorcycle (one of the first onshore last year) is there and we chat about the bike. I finally relent and say, "It is fantastic. Well, there is the front end shimmy above 100 mph in wide sweeping corners."
He nods with a knowing look and says, "A steering damper would fix that. Or some guys are playing with the length of the forks to cure that without the weight of the damper."
"I'll probably just live with it for a while. It's only once or twice a week that I get it." And then I drive off for a relaxing evening.
I have a nice long conversation with Person T_B about hepatitis C, human rights, the size of people's hearts, and other things.