The Child is the Father of the Man

There comes a time in the child of the man that the roles are reversed. From afar I could see the mismanaged emotions of others trying to cope with the aging parent that could no longer function on the level their offspring were accustomed to.  Now it is my turn and the bath by fire is my tub. My father holds many mixed emotions in my psyche and I think that is partly the reason why I lose my patience with him when my own world is turned a degree off its axis.  

My younger sister put it in perspective for me quite succinctly: My father is 2. He wants what he wants when he wants it. A man that was fiercely independent has now become needy and he is loving it and I am falling right in as the enabler as if I was born for the part.  This is not a role I was ready to take on. When my emotional investment is nil I am cool calm and collected. Now that blood is mixed into the family soup I almost feel like I am in over my head. More to come on these thoughts….

Wait til Next Year

As one of my favorite titles from 1982 played in my head: Hot In The City* I never felt more uncomfortable without air conditioning than I did yesterday except for brief reprieves on the 79th street ferry back and forth to New Jersey. Those breezes albeit warm were brisk and a welcome relief to my sweating torso and I wasn’t even walking quickly let alone biking over a 100 miles or running a 26.2 marathon. It was after all the day my friend Tripp Doherty was taking on his 3rd Ironman challenge  starting out with a 2.4 mile swim in the brisk current of the North River more commonly known as the Hudson.  

A very long day was highlighted (when I couldn’t witness my friend competing) with two acquaintances that I now consider my friends. David Blatt and if you don’t know this man you’re missing one of the most generous and easy to be with personalities I have ever met in a long time and Constance Korol or CK as I call her who always is optimistic no matter what life throws her way or in Saturday’s case her dear friend Tripp.  We did a lot of walking on Saturday and both CK and David estimated it to be about 10 miles a far cry from the 140.6 miles logged by Mr. Doherty but nonetheless when you add in the standing on two feet it left this curmudgeon with back spasms and a blistered foot. And whatever I was feeling I knew that I could  multiply it by tenfold as to what my friend in the river and on the road was feeling in the sweltering heat and humidity.  

As I told him as he went by a few hundred yards from the finish it’s all about the love not about the competition. And as the Dodger fans of Brooklyn would say: Wait til Next Year! (Except for 1955) 

Fortune Cookie Philosophy

The last few days I have supplied a website “Share a Learning” with some of my original metaphors. I started writing creating these short similes about 6 years ago and they were my gateway to the writing I do today. I don’t make many entries in my blog Inner Knockings in which contains them but this website has given me the impetus at least in the short run to continue them.

My friend Lori Spiegel gave me a belly laugh yesterday when instead of her usual “Lori Spiegel Likes This” said instead:  “What’s with this fortune cookie philosophy this week?”  I suppose Lori it is and thank you for lampooning me it was a great metaphor you gave me. 

When Blue Skies Turn Black

Meeting love on my two feet gives me the balance to craft my amorous breath in a sustainable bliss even though swept off my feet is the romantic notion dreams are made of like the white knight for her and twinkle of violet in a brown eyed girl.  I can still enjoy the thrill of love while standing up and wide awake because love in dreamscape inevitably has the white cloud turn black under the weight of life on life’s terms. 

Anima vs Animus

A friend suggested that because I was brought up having 4 sisters and no brothers as the reason being why women more than men can identify with me.  There has always been that nurturing side of me that is stereotypically innate in the female of the species and because my formative years were spent in the company of female siblings exclusively I learned to empathize more skillfully than most males that grew up in a more balanced gender setting. This is not without its problems however as I have discovered more of late. Women are much more skilled at multi-tasking and I although am blessed with creative talent, I do not have that complex adroitness that distaffed humans carry like second nature. I am constantly forgetting everything from where my phone, wallet and keys are. Or I leave the house without articles of clothing to change into after exercise and without a conscious plan I tend to drive ad hoc and that has its advantages of spontaneity however it does not carry the fundamental need for practicality. 

This connection to my anima leaves me adrift because often I feel I am in a boat with no oars and without a coxswain to pilot my course. As a man I need to make decisions to let go of people and situations that deprive me of any peace of mind and keep me locked into people pleasing. When I have to make decisions about what to do logically they usually are much easier for me to make than those that face me when flesh and blood are involved.   Running in place never works for me as in most males we need to see and feel we are making progress even if it is sometimes in circles.  

  Nothing is permanent anyway but when we think things are about to change we focus on the future rather than be in the present moment. I have to stay rooted in the now because as I age even though I only have today my life feels ever more fleeting as one thing begins while the other is ending.  I don’t know where I am headed but I do know that my Guardian Angels are all around me and even if I don’t know the destination the journey will be a guided by province. 

A Wry Smile

Today was such a tumultuous one emotionally that I had to make a rather lengthy private entry in my Jacbook II blog, which are for my eyes only. However I can share that a very close friend had a mass said for my paternal Grandfather who up until his death in 1969 was the most influential man in my life.  He gave me many gifts including the gift of conversation and story telling. His wry smile with his lit cigarette in raised hand is one that will live in my memory for the rest of my days. When I heard his name, which is the same as mine, it sent a chill down my spine, as did the week before when my sister’s name was spoken. Her death also in that same year 1969 marked me for life. Losing the two closest people in the world to me scarred me up until this day because I never learned how to channel my sadness and anger at their passing. 

I took to the track this afternoon in an attempt to raise my HR higher so I wouldn’t be so out of breath in one of my other group exercise classes. It seems to be helping as I have been able to raise my HR to 160 and I am now feeling a bit more comfortable in the anaerobic zone.  I did 220-yard intervals with a 110-yard walk for just over 3 miles around the track.  

402 Calories burned and 129-160 range in HR.  

Jack Hard

Tonight in preparation for the next phase of my workout regimen I did 35 minutes of track work including 220/330/440 yard intervals. I did elevated pushups, squat thrusts and dips. 

Kristen handled my initial segment of getting back into shape over the last two and ½ years and now Rocky will take my fitness deep and narrow as I prepare to enter and thrive in the anaerobic zone. At first it seemed daunting especially getting up for a 6 am class now I think I am up and ready for the challenge not many sexagenarians will take on but who is really as insane as I am? Don’t answer that!