It's been a good two days. Monday, waking up in Chicago, eating dinner for breakfast, hopping on the bus, the train, the bus back to my room, reading the paper over lunch, getting out of class early, finding books in the library, meeting outside to throw. The lights on the quad give just enough brightness that if we stay close together and don't throw too hard we can see. We get in a rhythm quickly, catch and release, catch and release, catch and release. There are rarely pauses for correction or missed discs. I am working on my backhand form, he's working on his I/Os. Nicely spaced, maybe 15 yards we toss. It's almost hypnotizing when we're not talking or people watching and we hear the campus carillon toll. 6:45 - one hour. He asks if I have time to stay, I do, so we do. Back and forth. 2 hours. My shoulder is starting to get tired and I resign myself to being the first to quit but once I get up the courage to mention it we just move closer, work on short backhands - popping them up, lots of spin, gentle touch, right into the midriff. We count - almost a throw a second - and keep going. Three hours. Three hours. We pause, aware that the sixty-degree weather is holding, the night can't get darker, our work no more pressing, and momentarily fear falling into the hole of inertia. Could we stay all night to throw? It feels possible, it feels like the right thing. But we hold still longer, decide it's time for dinner, pack up the disc and leave the dark field.
Tuesday, more hectic - three classes, overlapping, a quiz and then no lunch. Distraction, then work, then distraction. I leave the office, leave my room, bike to the gym. Lifelines. I feel like it's some kind of right-wing Christian group everytime I see the name - I keep waiting for someone to try to save me from hell. In the back corner, behind the gymnastics, the games, the boxing, the climbing gym awaits. I wish I had a partner to go with but I don't - always ending up a third wheel to my professor and the enigmatic grad student I've never seen elsewhere. I warm up, stretch, wander around the cave, hand and foot against the wall, trying to go the length without falling off. The wall is shorter than last week but the holds more challenging - my finger slip, grip, slip as I try to stay on. I am stronger this week - I knew I would be after last Wednesday's soreness - I can hold myself on now even with a foot sliding off, regain it and keep going. This is new. This is good. I go back to pink-and-green - two weeks ago I could stand up and reach one hold, nothing more. Frustrating. Half an hour of trying to reach and failing. This week I am eager, ready. We try again and I'm still stuck but with more options. We try different feet, different hands, one foot, one hand, staggered feet, together feet, pushing sideways, up and finally I reach the third hold, pull up my foot, match my hands and grip as hard as I can. Fall off. Get back on, fall off. Repeat. Finally I can reach up and then one more foot up and I'm over the overhang onto, amazingly, a nice reclining wall. Up and up, until I can't reach. The holds are too far apart. My professor looks, unsure - this isn't something I can get out of by matching an extra time or being creative with my toes - we add the wall - I can wrap my arm and push for balance. Get the hold, step up. Don't stop moving, my sister taught me, but I don't know where to go, fall off. Start again - to wrap the corner, match hands, try to reach for the end. Too short. An inch! I need just an inch! Creative feet finally come through. I don't know how long it took - maybe an hour. Probably an hour. One climb. The two guys of uncertain (to me) ethnicity have gone through practically every other wall. Five minutes off and I'm back to trying to reach the lemur. Still get stuck when I have to switch my grips - harder now, with tired fingers, knotted forearms, strangely popping shoulders (I worry about this) - I already made progress warming up and don't do better now but do manage to at least match my previous effort. A ladder at the end. Twice up, twice falling off because my forearms just can't hold - they would if I just kept moving but I still don't trust myself enough on the wall to step all the way up, let go and reach. But I am stronger this week, and more successful. Andy tells me to rest longer between routes, Scott says he'll see me next week. I wonder when it's time to buy my own shoes.
So life travels on non-stop and I am alternatively in the driver's seat or belted securely in the back, snoring happily. I haven't learned yet how to support my students but still prioritize myself - I don't work at home but I can't work in the office (they just show up!) because I'm terrible at spitting out the word "no". The funny thing is that because of this they apparently think I'm the "nice" TA but looking at our general paper-grade trends I think that while we're fairly equal graders I'm probably the most demanding of the three (ah... a Chicago education in action). At least it stopped raining finally: the dismal, relentless sky is still grey but not dripping at least. We are in the midst of a California winter and I am still waiting for the seventy-degree, sunny relief. But joy is in sight - a whole week (!) for thanksgiving, an office party lunch tomorrow, breakfast plans this weekend - I hate to bring it up but we'll (that's royal, by the way) probably be away from this reality for most of that time. It all depends on which way the wind keeps blowing.
Last night was grading-pain - up until 3 (yes, this is my fault because of Fallout...) and THEN somehow one of the papers gets lost when we hand them back. This is the problem with the free-for-all return. So I have to re-grade (I have the score, but not the comments) and, even more painfully, deflate the authorial ego of this student who, in our email conversation, proclaims that he doesn't need to worry about this paper since he got 100% on the last one. I'm pretty sure I gave him a C. So there's a bit of incongruity there... I haven't the energy to deal with this today - tomorrow on the train! In better news I wasted time this afternoon, trying to avoid taking a nap so I could go to bed early tonight, and then suckered an office-mate into watching the Illini dominate at hockey tonight. Very fun. Only $5 and popcorn for a dollar and the most cheerfully negative fans I've seen at any sporting event. We show our support by heckling the opposing team at every opportunity. Goalies who are scored on are ruthlessly taunted with "It's all your fault! It's all your fault! It's all your fault!" And if the opposing team manages to score they're rebuffed with "You still suck!". I've never seen an audience so united in a codified heckling scheme. Really, it was impressive. I would have joined in, but a family with two cute girls under 10 were sitting right in front of me and somehow it didn't feel right. Anyway. My wet socks from sloshing through the rain are off and my feet are finally warmed up enough to collapse into some long-overdue shuteye. Tomorrow morning is the train, and Chicago.
I am behind, in all aspects of life. Here's the rundown. (More merriment next week, I promise) 1) Presentation on Monday was not a failure. Hooray! Now I must simply churn out an interesting and significant paper based on the facts I discussed. 2) Skipped Gilmore Girls, Vernonica Mars, and House (and yes, 2 of those are on at the same time) to go climbing with my Homer prof. No, I don't think I'll get a better grade as a result, although I might get an advisor out of this deal. Did some things going up, did some things going over. Not very successful in either case (lots of falling off) and I've been sore ever since but damn it's a good time. I figure it'll be a nice complement to ultimate.. and I can pretend that now I don't have to lift weights AND I ride my bike round trip (maybe 5 miles?) so I can also pretend it counts for cardio. More and more reasons to love this. 3) 67 degrees yesterday and not raining or windy. I went nuts. Threw with an unsuspecting grad student for almost an hour after my morning class.. then met up with a co-ed woman (yes, that makes sense) for another 40 minutes of delight. Everything was topped off by lunch and a nap. Life is good. Except I'm now more behind on work. 4) Today - high of 70, perfect weather. And miserably I am stuck in my office trying to grade about 85 papers on Thucydides. I should be outside working on my backhand, stretching out my forearms, trying in vain one last time for a tan (ah, the beauty of skin cancer) but I am stuck with only a large window that's sealed shut and this patiently glowing screen. If I'm lucky Angelo will call and I'll have a nice 20 minute reprieve on the quad. If only I'd done more work already this week! (see #1-3) 5) Will hopefully find my whimsy (and grammatically complete sentences) this weekend in Chicago. Plan to return to full writing glory (note to self: find something glorious to write about) Monday after an epic weekend of Bears football and a morning drive to class. Why am I writing rather like Bridget Jones? Must stop craving doughnuts...
Things are busy. I have meant to post for 2 days and haven't managed to yet and my impending lecture (yes, I am panicking) tomorrow means that this will be short and insufficient. Just to put it out there - I've been thinking about the merits of linking taxation to cost-of-living (somehow) and the ways in which the US military is facing similar difficulties in manpower, strategy, and defence to the Roman military from about 250AD on. Basically the old-school system fell apart with the advent of mobile, irrational raiding. And other things. Just something to chew on.
I refound invulnerability tonight. It's been a long time since I've braved cold successfully but after this weekend and this evening suddenly I feel less fragile and more willing to take a risk (we'll see where this ends up...). Dinner called from the store - after a long day at the office and nothing but butter and old eggs in the fridge I was in desperate need of something quick and tasty and good and cheap - rotisserie chicken fresh from the deli. My new favorite no-fuss dinner. One pecker good for two dinners - some potatoes or bread and green beans and your balanced meal is all ready. But to get there -from the office with my fleece and jacket and hat and helmet and blinky and I was ready to go except for gloves. The love-hate relationship between the weather and my fingers has been in force these days with below freezing temps when I leave in the morning and highs of 50 midday. I hardly know what to do. So today I just had my liners - blue as pale as their real cold-protection. So I rode with my thumbs wrapped around the handlebars and my fingers in a fist, braced on top in case of bumps, ready for a quick swerve from a car, coiled to spring out and brake if necessary, but mostly trying to not get cold. It's hard to pick out apples when you can't feel anything. And I made it. Granted, it's not far, but I made it in and even had my gloves off by the time I got to the apples. Coming home was harder - I suppose since the temperature dropped a few degrees while I sashayed up and down aisles - but I survived and even set my lock without fumbling (this is a milestone for me, even if you don't see it). So I'm ready. I managed a weekend of ultimate without handwarmers where the morning temps were in the 30s, I conquered the evening cycle to the store and became happily provisioned. I may not have eckhart to throw in front of all winter this year but I do have my own office, my own invitation to be bothered, my disc on the bookshelf as I look out the window at the open space ripe for throwing, right on my quad.
I took my weekend today (I get a day a week, roughly) - couldn't concentrate on reading any more this afternoon after three days of solid book-learning broken by class and food and not much else. Funny thing, taking my weekend so shortly after my last one and knowing I won't get another for 10 days but so life goes. Back to normal next Tuesday. I can hardly wait. The worst thing was missing pickup tonight - indoor from now on, in the Armory - not quite full Henry Crown size I think, but it's hard to judge. We play in the middle of an indoor track that's more circular than what I think of as normal but with all eight cones and one white disc the location isn't so important. And I do find it fun to try to avoid the long-jump sand pits when we're warming up. Ultimate is going to be interesting from now on - I've never played so late before (10:30-12) consistently, especially after shifting to my earliest school-schedule ever (up by 7:30 every day) although I make a pact with Angelo to leave at 11:30. We'll see what happens on "practice" nights though... which brings me to point number two: a possible split of genders from the coed team for the college season - we're short on eligible women but the interest is there and with some recruiting they'd have a decent group at the least. Enough to go to regionals, certainly and probably do fairly well there even. But for me the most exciting thing isn't practicing with women again (which does certainly have its advantages) but having a coach for the first time ever. And from the first day he had advice for me, useful: work on touch. I find this piece rather amusing since the past year or more I've worked on adding more power to my throwing in spin to cut through wind better, travel farther, and fly more accurately. I don't feel like I'm there yet - wind still gives me trouble - but Zill says "softer" so I must obey. I do overthrow people more than I'd like, although I chalk it up to either laziness or tiredness on the part of the cutter I know if I just put on a little more float (while keeping control) that number would decrease if not disappear. Wishful thinking, but I'll try. There's precious little immune to practice. So I did, last weekend at Fallout with my beloved Supersnatch who, like a rebellious teenager, is growing up so quickly that even only a few years distant I feel utterly disconnected. Pickup more often in Chicago, I guess. But it was a fun weekend - playing in a leadership role again, touching the disc multiple times on every point, giving advice on the line, holding a cup together, watching girls improve dramatically over the course of a day or a game or even a point. I tried to lay out my throws gently, swing upwind for yards but also make everything easily catchable. Mostly I succeeded. A few short throws too floaty, a few breaks too excited but overall a good ratio. Ultimate becomes fun again, I become useful on the field. This sense of purpose, confidence, excitement - this is what I love about playing and something I lose when I don't feel like I can contribute well. So here's to the next 11 months before Regionals - time to work on touch, to get in shape, to dream of Sarasota.
