The Disc

For the last few weeks I’ve been playing Ultimate Frisbee, here in Madison. I have some observations.

I am not good at this game. I am out of shape. I found myself huffing around the field, chasing down the disc, wondering, ‘What are you doing?’ Only experience can answer this question, as long as I don’t quit. What am I doing? I’m getting better at it. I’m getting in shape.

The first weeks, like any new hobby/activity/adventure, I learned much. I learned basic tactics and terms. I learned about the zone defense and I learned the dire repercussions of not playing the zone defense correctly. I learned that when you get steamrolled you should call a foul (in my defense, I was confused and dazed). I learned that a novice should seek out opposing novices and stick to them. I learned that if I play three straight points I’m done for the night. I have begun to learn a forehand throw. I learned to STAND UP before I throw the disc. I am learning patience. I have learned that during the normal course of events in daily life, I never, ever, sprint. The guys who play have been accommodating in the extreme, explaining a great many things to me and helping me with my throws.

Even this bit of exercise a few times a week seems to have an effect on my mood. Endorphins, I’m told. The other two positive effects are that when I’m exhausted I sleep more consistently (through the night, more or less) and it makes me hungry enough to eat…

I Must Be More British

This week I was ill from Sunday through Wednesday. At first I thought it might have been some indeterminately aged salmon I found in the fridge, but as the days crawled by I realized it may have been some bug I caught, or just internalizing and reacting (badly) to stress. I have no particular schedule right now as far as eating or sleeping. I’m able, with effort, to focus at work, but have been ingesting massive quantities of coffee, Red Bull, and chocolate covered coffee beans. I get home and am exhausted. If this continues for a few more weeks I may see a professional, but really, probably not. (Some of you may be aware of my proclivity to put of health related visits)

OK. I’m depressed, I get it. I hit the majority of the DSMIV criteria, most notably mood, lack of appetite and disturbed sleep patterns. My concentration and memory are shot all to hell. It is only with the most intense effort that I agree to and meet people socially. Please note: this is not a call for help, I just want to get this out there in case family and friends are wondering things like, ‘Why isn’t 3XHAR too talkative?’ or ‘Geez, 3XHAR sure snapped on me for no reason,’ or ‘If I have to repeat myself to him again, I shall club him.’

Since I haven’t posted in a while and since I need to try to use my memory and since I have to occupy my time doing something, anything really: Here is the Stein Night recap from last Wednesday’s Stein Night:

The Ed Conundrum; Short People Should Be Dated; WRTIV: This Time A Man Is The Destination; Why Must The Men Move The Boulder Two Feet?; Why My Happy Hour Beer Ain’t Workin’?; The Dancing Giese And 3XHAR Settle Up; Salmon And The Level Of Un-Needed Detail; Analysis: Arbitrary And Chosen Criteria; The Addition And Immediate Subsequent Removal Of Rookie Number III; Positive Reinforcement At Work; Brokeback Mountain And A Brief Review Of Ang Lee’s Other Fine Films; A Brief Discussion Of Weekend Plans, Or A Lack Of Them; Jim’s Home Brewed Birthday Cervezas; Crazy Legs; Ripples From Chicago; Orgy Class; Punch Drunk Love; Explaining The Stein Web; Monsters In The Basement; Deal Breakers; Comparative Analysis: The Equality Of Arthur’s Table And The Table Of The Stein; Good Things From Russia; Break Dance Fighting: Very Possibly Not A Martial Art; Tito And The Shamrock!; The Third Meeting Of Dr. Black; 3XHAR: Independent Voter?; Old Highlights, But Still Smashing!; Where Did The Libertarian Vice Presidential Candidate Sleep?; The Victory, Transcendence And Glory Of The Red Bull; I Am Not OK With The Touching; Wingmen And Work Wingwomen; How India Learned To Love The Atomic Bomb; Social Signal Significance of The Hair; Migraines Suck; Pauly’s Hairstyle Explained; Tricksie Waitresses; The Imzadi Gambit; That One Strand Of Hair Loose, Wild And Sassy, Two Loose Strands, Not So Much; Trying To Figure Some People Out And Failing And Then Maybe Not; 3XHAR Maligned!; Take My Mug, Please!; The Cardinal; The Habit Of Foul Language; Why I Don’t Care About Immigration, But Should; Stream Of Consciousness Conversations; Freaky Ninja Bathroom Trip; Hondo’s Rocky Gut; Deadbeat Renters; The Plane Scenarios; What Time Must You Rise?.

Not bad. It is late and I am tired.

And just to be clear, again, this is not a cry for help. I have no intention of doing anything radically more stupid than usual. I just wanted to note it so people know what is going on, and why I don't call or write or even speak sometimes. I don't want to offend. It is difficult to put myself in drive and I am weary. Once it’s been duly noted I would then like to stoically ignore it. I would like to behave, at least publicly, in a more or less dignified and slightly British fashion.

Better days will come, not because they must, but because they will be made.