coolwhippings

On Sunday, November 6th I'm running the New York City marathon.  It will be exciting, inspirational, and grueling.  Most of my heart, mind, and body are ready and really fucking pumped.  I'm also paranoid and nervous.  One week to go and sidewalk curbs look like dark-alley menaces that are waiting to knock me down, break my ankle, and steal my aspirations.  Stairs now seem like gangs of indoor sidewalk curbs just quietly hanging around my house waiting to fuck me up and pitch me face forward.  The plot forming against me by the bathtub chills my blood.

Sounds pleasurable, no?  No. Not very.

So what's all this nervous energy doing here at coolwhippings, the interweb home of Pearl, Charlie's, and my pleasure?  Let me 'splain.

About two months ago at an excessively food and wine fueled dinner on the closing night of the Toronto Film Fest I was invited to join an eclectic group of people for their monthly Art House film nights.  Since the newest guest gets to choose the film of the first evening they attend, I was in.  In mid-November I was in, that is.  I explained my marathon aspirations and that, until 06/11/11 has come and gone in NYC, I would be living an austere existence.  Lots of sleep, little to no booze, near daily training runs, endless cups of water and tea every day, and a diet devoid of indulgence.  As I explained the self-imposed sentence looming for the next few months it didn't illicit a lot of enthusiastic responses.  Least of all in me.  It all sounded really dull and more than a little self-righteous.

Here's the thing, the austerity I described on that night of wine and cheese and risotto and wine has shaped the most unexpectedly pleasurable couple of months in recent memory.

I won't say I've never felt better, but I definitely haven't felt this good for years.

I've lost about 19 Kilograms (40 and change in American weight), I have vitality of a Mexican jumping bean on meth, I sleep like whatever it is that gets nine hours of uninterrupted sleep each night, and I smile at the world in general all the bloody time.  That last one could get me a court date if I overdo it, but that falls under 'acceptable risk' in my eyes.  The point being, I have found a new version of excess and pleasure in what I generally regarded as the 'end of fun'.  It feels so good to live this way.  Healthy and balanced and aware.  I'm doing yoga on a regular basis for Jeebus's Sake!

I'm addicted to feelin' this fine.

And with that last statement, things centre themselves in the frame.  I've not become used to austerity, I've invented a new version of excess.