Discipline

Morning weigh-in: 166.5#, 9% BF

 

I've been futzing around with the gas mileage on my car: The new car does the MPG calculation in real time based on fuel consumption and speed, and there's an LED that shows your current (instantaneous) as well as average MPG. I've been trying to adjust my driving to keep that gas mileage as high as possible, and I'm finding that I have a lot of bad habits I need to break. It's tough too, retraining yourself and constantly thinking about it, watching that gas meter -- in town it's a losing battle, but I've done pretty well on rural stuff, and have been taking the highway to work lately since that's best of all, even if the interstate is a boring and depressing way to travel.

 

I had to drop off drycleaning last night on the way to the gym, and had to hit a cash machine before that, and I was running late so of course there was an idiot in front of me. Tradesman's van, ladders on top, looked like he was realizing that he might not make it under the low clearance, then decided to go anyway -- this was all while I was driving by the bank, so there was no pressure behind him to make him go forward yet.

 

Well, he overshoots the telling machine, gets out of the van to do his transactions, which take forever, hmmm, looks like he's having a little bit of trouble... He gets back in the van and pulls forward, and the ladders catch on the slightly lower exit clearance. I'm honking away, the ladders are making an infernal racket scraping on the stucco roof and each other, and the guy stops, then pulls forward, hesitates again, and then pulls all the way out, knocking the ladders off the van. Then he parks.

 

I park too (the guy behind me had already backed out and left), and go to the ATM while the van dude starts fooling with his ladders, and I find that the guy actually left his card in the machine. I call over to him and hand him his card while he runs off a string of obscenities -- I notice alcohol on his breath, though he doesn't look drunk or wobbly or anything. I finished my business and got out of there while he was still messing with his broken ladders.

 

Drycleaning, then the gym for the standard workout including legs. Pretty good workout, weights were high but not record-breaking (except quad extension), and I felt strong throughout. Grabbed some Taco Hell for dinner, then went out food shopping, picked up ingredients for that tomato and bean stew.

 

Got home and busted out the crock pot again, as well as the food processor for the first time. (Verdict: it's good, but I can tell that practice makes perfect.) Got everything prepared, cleaned up the kitchen and hit the sack around midnight.

 

I've been dreaming a lot more lately, or at least, remembering them more, mostly disjointed stuff, bits and pieces are all I bring back. Last night I dreamed of cycling though, something I don't remember ever doing before. I was on the road bike, in Southside Bethlehem (only it was a dream-Bethlehem, like the surreal Easton of my dreams), heading sort of west and looking for "Broad Street," which I thought I'd overshot -- I was in a rougher neighborhood, sort of like a cross between Allentown and the Easton's abandoned train station -- but then I found it, and ran into a group of other riders. We were cruising along, fooling around on roads that reminded me of Bike New York, jumping curbs etc... last thing before waking up, I was hanging at the Bethlehem Bike Co-Op, changing a tire.

 

Tonight is yoga, then that stew for dinner.