So Long to Lazy Sundays
My ideal Sunday starts before the sun’s up. I’m well-rested, caffeinated and eager to turn on my mp3 player as I head out the door before dawn for my long run. If I’m lucky, it’ll be chilly enough that I can see my breath. I’ll return two, sometimes even three hours later, with the Sunday papers in my sweaty arms. As a new pot of tea brews, I’ll get back into my pajamas and stretch. This sounds gross, I know, but it really helps the chafe marks heal before I hit the shower. I’ll eat a well-earned breakfast with lots of bread (my dietary weakness) and start in on the San Diego Union-Tribune and The Los Angeles Times while soaking in the early morning sun beaming through the solarium.
Throughout the day I’ll read -- newspapers, magazines, books and blogs. Mid-afternoon, I’ll do my best Food Network TV chef imitation and whip up a nice meal that we eat at the dining room table. Together. I’m only a little embarrassed to say that sometimes -- not often, mind you -- I’ll still be in my flannel PJs or ratty old Boston University shorts and T-shirt. That is if something hasn’t compelled me to bathe, like a matinee movie or trip to the beach or park. The bank ATM or nearby mailbox don’t count. Sometimes the Von’s supermarket across the street, when I need some fresh rolls or French bread, doesn’t warrant a clean-up either (but I do change into real clothes).
A little e-mail and evening TV round things out, and by Monday morning I’m ready for another hectic work week, and maybe desperately in need of a shower.
Sigh. I won’t be able to experience the same open-ended Sundays until next summer. The holidays now eat into most of my Me Time. No surprise here. Last week, I flew to San Francisco for work. Today, after my two-hour run, I went shopping in La Jolla soon as stores opened, came home and read a newspaper section here and there while finishing weekend chores, laying out the last of the Christmas displays and readying for the final night of the Scripps Dance Centre’s children’s holiday gala. Next week looks like more of the same, with baking wedged in between a busy social calendar. Soon as the mad rush of celebrations end, the Rockin’ ‘n’ Runnin’ marathon training program begins with its group long runs on Saturdays. That means some responsibilities will automatically spill into Sunday, and I won't be able to eat as much as I like without a long run. The work travel will ramp up too, creating even more time crunches.
But I hesitate to complain because I know I am quite fortunate to still have my health and my wits and my job and my family and friends. And I still have shorter recovery runs that I can do later now if I want to sleep in. And Sundays can still be shower-optional. Just don’t tell anyone at Von’s.
Throughout the day I’ll read -- newspapers, magazines, books and blogs. Mid-afternoon, I’ll do my best Food Network TV chef imitation and whip up a nice meal that we eat at the dining room table. Together. I’m only a little embarrassed to say that sometimes -- not often, mind you -- I’ll still be in my flannel PJs or ratty old Boston University shorts and T-shirt. That is if something hasn’t compelled me to bathe, like a matinee movie or trip to the beach or park. The bank ATM or nearby mailbox don’t count. Sometimes the Von’s supermarket across the street, when I need some fresh rolls or French bread, doesn’t warrant a clean-up either (but I do change into real clothes).
A little e-mail and evening TV round things out, and by Monday morning I’m ready for another hectic work week, and maybe desperately in need of a shower.
Sigh. I won’t be able to experience the same open-ended Sundays until next summer. The holidays now eat into most of my Me Time. No surprise here. Last week, I flew to San Francisco for work. Today, after my two-hour run, I went shopping in La Jolla soon as stores opened, came home and read a newspaper section here and there while finishing weekend chores, laying out the last of the Christmas displays and readying for the final night of the Scripps Dance Centre’s children’s holiday gala. Next week looks like more of the same, with baking wedged in between a busy social calendar. Soon as the mad rush of celebrations end, the Rockin’ ‘n’ Runnin’ marathon training program begins with its group long runs on Saturdays. That means some responsibilities will automatically spill into Sunday, and I won't be able to eat as much as I like without a long run. The work travel will ramp up too, creating even more time crunches.
But I hesitate to complain because I know I am quite fortunate to still have my health and my wits and my job and my family and friends. And I still have shorter recovery runs that I can do later now if I want to sleep in. And Sundays can still be shower-optional. Just don’t tell anyone at Von’s.
