Mountain Goat Gym Rat

In in an attempt to get into mountain-goat shape for the big hike to Machu Picchu, Todd and I have joined a gym. Being in a small suburban town means that we had few choices, so Gold's Gym it was. Unlike Suzimusi, who found the Gold's in her neck of the woods to be rather unfortunate, Todd and I have been pretty happy. One thing that I've enjoyed is the fact that it's not such a meatmarket as the 24-Hour Fitness in Oakland I used to go to. Walking into that place was crazy. You could just feel the eyes on you; everyone was watching everyone else, even at a ridiculous hour of the morning. And I'm not even hot, especially in my baggy t-shirt and scowl. Sometimes, I felt like making an announcement: "You know what, people? When the sun it not up yet, do not hit on me or even try to make conversation. I am not your friend. And no, I will not meet you in the steam room." Of course, making this announcement would have required talking to people, and why would I do that? It's much healthier to just fume in silence.

I also really enjoy the idea of the gym. I'm finding it easier to get out of bed in the morning knowing that I'm getting up to go to a well-lit, warm room to run on a treadmill instead of the cold darkness outside. When it was warmer out, I could handle the darkness of the early morning. I felt hardcore and like I was a member of some kind of secret club of slightly crazy yet respectable people. Then it got cold and I realized that I'm not really hardcore. I'm medium-core at best, and dark+cold+6 AM = get on the treadmill.

Perhaps the best part of the gym, though, is the people-watching. I realize that I missed it during my gym hiatus. You can always count on there being somebody doing something entertaining, like the guy who practically does jazz hands as he walks on the treadmill, looking as though he might break into song at any moment. I love that. Or the aerobics instructor who shows up in caked-on makeup, and who I think may have been smoking in the parking lot. Don't take classes from her! One strange thing I've noticed however, is how nearly everybody there is white. I suppose this is one of the hazards of suburbia or of not living in a place like Oakland anymore. I would consider this a downside of the gym, but I really realize that it's a downside of the whole town. That's sad.

Musings on Winter

The weather man says that El Nino is responsible for this year's mild start to winter. But I (and a bunch of others, I'm sure) can't help but wonder about how much is due to global warming. In the name of Al Gore, make it stop! Anyway, this has meant that this former California resident hasn't had to contend with winter as it is traditionally defined in New England. Until recently, that is, now that it has actually become cold enough to freeze stuff. And it has even snowed a (tiny) bit. I managed to scoop up a little to make a snowball to throw at Todd. This made me happy, and I may have even skipped a little. I know that this is nothing, and I may not be skipping when it snows for real and the trudging begins, but still. I'm happily clad in my down parka, and all I can do is hope that the geese don't peck my eyes out in revenge when they return from their winter homes. I've seen The Birds. I know what can happen.

Maybe my lovely parka has something to do with a funny incident that happened the other night when I left the office to go home. It had been very chilly in the morning -- it might have been the morning that the snot in my nose froze a little, but maybe that was another morning -- and I hadn't been out of the office all day. The temperature had risen by the evening, and when I left, I thought to myself how much warmer it was than it had been that morning. I estimated the temperature to be somewhere in the mid-thirties. And then I thought: When did the thirties become warm?

The fact that this is "warm" means that I am very pale. Paler than I have been since I was born. But even then I might have had more color, because at least then I would have been pink. My permanent watch tan that has resulted from years of all-season running outside in T-shirts is nearly gone. When I left the house to go running this Sunday, Google Weather told me that it was 12 degrees with a windchill of zero. And you know what? I was cold (and, yes, I was wearing something more appropriate than a T-shirt). But I ran those 6 miles anyway because I like to pretend to be hardcore. And also, if I didn't keep running, I would have died of exposure. Or at least I would have been uncomfortable until one of the other runners I saw called for help. I think they actually might have been hardcore.

I should get some more sweaters.

Fun at the Office, Part 2

Housekeepers are overrated: Apparently what people really need is a chimpanzee.

Having free time at work obviously gives me a chance to do some important reading.

Fun at the Office

It has been blissfully slow at work the last couple of weeks, which means that my co-workers and I have been finding creative ways to entertain ourselves all day long. Most notably: YouTube. Collectively, we are finding that you really can waste hours on YouTube. Of course we already knew this, but still.

This is how it works: Somebody finds something on YouTube that's funny, and then calls everyone into one of our offices. The door is shut, and we watch something completely inappropriate for work and laugh hysterically. "Dick in a Box" is the fave. It has become something of a theme song, really, and we spend time singing it with each other and dancing around. It's like summer camp!

When things pick up again, it's really going to cut into our YouTube watching time. I'm not sure how we'll survive.

The Next Postcard

There are basically 2 ways to get to Machu Picchu in the Peruvian Andes: The easy way and the hard way. In the easy way, you take a train from Cusco to Aguas Calientes, the town nearest to the ruins. Then there is a short hike (of several hours) to the ruins themselves, where you likely emerge alert and recently showered. In the hard way, you get dropped off by a bus on the Inca Trail, the "traditional" way to access the ruins. You then hike in the Andes for 4 days, setting up camp along the way and pooping in the forest. Thus, when you reach the ruins on day 4, you do not emerge recently showered. In both the easy and hard cases, you are required by law to go with a tour group and guide (or if you're rich, a private guide), and there is a limit to the number of hikers per year who may access the ruins. This is an attempt to minimize the environmental impact of the tourism, which, for a while, was apparently getting pretty bad.

So why am I writing about all of this? Last week, Todd and I booked tickets to Peru for July, courtesy of our credit card airline miles. We will go for 10 days, but the main point of this trip is to see Machu Picchu. And we're going to do it the hard way, which we are hoping is also the more rewarding way. I think hiking the Inca Trail is on those "1000 things to do before you die" lists. Which is really convenient, given that this hike may kill us. Carrying large packs uphill at high altitudes? It sounds like a death wish to me. On day 2 of the hike, there is something called "Dead Woman's Pass." I think it was really nice of somebody to name this pass after me, even though I haven't even gone there yet. Thanks folks!

My previous hiking experience has been fairly tame. It has consisted of Kjerste and I doing day hikes near sea level that ended with hot showers, pizza, drinks, and feelings of deep accomplishment. We are proud urban hikers. Hiking the Inca Trail is going to be a bit of a stretch for me, and I'm sure it will end up being one of the best things I ever did, blah blah blah. Right now, of course, I'm thinking of how rusty my Spanish is and how physically difficult the hike will be.

Thus, booking this trip has led me to some good New Year's resolutions. I had been having difficulty thinking of any, but now that I know I'll be hiking in the Andes, I think getting into mountain goat shape is an important goal. Also, I'll make a point of learning useful Spanish phrases, such as:

"Please do not pick my pocket. There is only lip balm in there."

"Why is there no hot water in this shower?"

"I do not eat dead animals of any kind. Please take the Alpaca away."

"What is that crawling across the wall?"

I'm sure I'll think of even more as time passes.

As a bonus, I understand that you can get coca tea and chew coca leaves as you please in Peru. In fact, the tour outfits all seem to provide coca tea, since it supposedly helps you adjust to the altitude. I'll bet it helps with all kinds of things, except for getting back through US customs.

It looks like this is going to be a very interesting year.