In Search of Balance and My Lost Waistline

Monday I emailed the administrator of my class that I needed time to take care of some personal business, but that I hoped to rejoin the class when they start the 3rd module in November. She was nice and sympathetic but couldn't promise anything. They have a long waiting list.

The truth is I couldn't force myself to do it any more. The late hours 3 nights a week followed by getting up early for work everyday left me jet-lagged; all I accomplished on the weekends was to catch up on sleep. And I'd developed a phobia to the projects we had to present to the class. I told myself many times to just concentrate on doing my best and to enjoy learning all this cool stuff, but to show my poor work to a large group of artists and graphic designers proved too daunting. When I couldn't make any progress on a project this weekend, I decided to face the truth and give up my seat to someone who could devote more to it.

Thinking of the terrific friends I'd made and miss, I could cry.

Step 1 to find a new equilibrium is to concentrate on the basics; eat well, sleep well, and exercise. About two years ago I had a nice start on wash-board abs; now I'm wearing pants 2 inches larger and some days those are snug. Monday I rode my bicycle again around Fiesta Island and along the San Diego River to where it joins the Pacific Ocean. Tonight I threw my Rollerblades in the car and drove to the same area.

For me, rollerblading is a meditation and best done alone. Friends have suggested it as a fun activity to do together, but I've never encouraged it. I don't want to cause someone to feel bad if my long legs get me going pretty fast, nor do I like to stop and rest: I'm built for endurance. And I don't want to embarrass myself by falling flat on my face when crossing rough pavement, due to my high center of gravity.

Tonight I explored the wide, paved path along the east side of Mission Bay. It's a beautiful, slightly winding path with the shore and beaches on one side and playgrounds and picnic areas on the other. Lots of other folks were out enjoying the evening as well.

As I went along I loved watching how they interacted with each other. One older gentleman put his arm protectively around his wife as I passed. A teenage boy watched the activity on the sidewalk as two younger girls got a drink from the fountain behind him. He seemed all relaxed and at ease but those 2 girls were totally protected: what a good older brother.

And I love the racial diversity that makes it necessary to print ballots in 129 different languages in San Diego. I saw Latin, Asian, Indian, African-American, white, and combinations I couldn't identify; all beautiful.

The only person I had a problem with was a middle-aged white guy, also on Rollerblades; obviously out trying to re-claim his lost youth from some mid-life crises. Give it up dude, I thought. But then I thought again and realized I'm probably the same age, if not older.

Skate on, my brother!