Poet Abroad

Beginnings are usually the hardest for me. Once momentum is established, it is much easier to maintain pace. This can be said for nearly every situation or circumstance in my case. Example:

A regular exercise pattern. We’ve all been there. We tell ourselves we should really get out and get more of it, but somehow can’t push ourselves to make that first step. It’s a lot of work. I don’t have time. I don’t feel like it today. We make up so many excuses. Or, at least, I do. A few months ago I took up swimming again. When I was little, I was a fish. We had a pool in our back yard and you couldn’t yank me out of the water no matter what. So, after watching a very cute British film called On A Clear Day, I was inspired to once again take the plunge. I bought a new swim suit, swim cap and prescription goggles, packed a yoga bag filled with my kit and toiletries, and decided to start using the university swimming pool. I figured, since it was free for me as a student, I might as well take advantage of it while I can.

At first, during Michigan’s spring (more like winter) break, I began going to the CCRB (Central Campus Recreation Building). Armed with new resolve and motivation (and convinced that one day I too will swim the English Channel), I went faithfully to the pool each day. My first encounter was a pleasant one: not too crowded and conveniently close to the central campus bus terminal. Several other students and I became accustomed to sharing a lane or two together and became acquainted over the following week or so.

I must say, though, that the most pleasing part of the new experience was definitely the Adonis who frequented the far end of the pool area every day, working on his bod. He picked the same spot each time, doing push ups, sit ups, leg lifts, and just generally showing off the perfectly sculpted brown muscles all over him. I developed a swimming pattern that would optimize my viewing satisfaction: When swimming towards the far end of the pool, I would do the breast stroke, wide a slow. No rush. I wasn’t staring; I was simply swimming towards that end of the pool and he happened to be there. Then, when swimming back to the other end, I’d flip over and work on my floaty, lazy back stroke. I had to make sure I didn’t dip my chin too far down to make it obvious I was trying to ogle the guy.

Suffice it to say, once spring break was over, I was disappointed to learn that class scheduling did not allow me to swim at that particular time of day any more and was therefore forced to leave my Adonis behind. Instead, I commuted to the NCRB (North Campus Recreation Building) after work. A farther distance from the job and longer bus ride. In fact, after the first bus ride, I decided it was easier to just drive to the north end. After all, parking is free after 6pm.

Without Mr. Hottie to look forward to, I had to up my game in the lanes and actually work towards a goal. 70 lengths is a mile. Since I was just starting out, I didn’t want to push too hard in the beginning. Half would be a good first step. Then, I could work my way up. Now that I wasn’t distracted, I could focus on what I should have been doing all along. After that, I made it to a mile within a couple of weeks.

Note: It is generally not a good idea to swim a mile if you haven’t eaten that day and you have low blood sugar. (I learn things the hard way). 

Unfortunately, I haven’t been to the pool in the past two weeks. Finals week came and I was preoccupied with final papers and exams (nailed). Then, my trip to New Hampshire happened (see previous post). I have no excuse for this week, other than I’ve just been lazy and too tired from trying to cover extra shifts at work. But I hope to get back to my English Channel training some time very soon. Very soon.

More examples of hard beginnings to come…

A few months ago, I left Washington, D.C. to move back home to Ann Arbor, Michigan and get ready for the next big event: an MA in literature from the University of New Hampshire. I start my MA at UNH this August. So, this past week I took a little week-long excursion to New England to scout for an apartment and check out my new digs for the next two years.

I’ll be renting a delightful (and suprisingly cheery and bright) basement apartment from an English department professor at UNH. How extremely fortunate for me that her home is less than a mile from campus. An easy bicycle ride to class each day. And, since the town of Durham is so incredibly tiny, the bike will be my primary mode of transportation until the weather gets unbearably cold. Then, I’ll bus it. Penelope (my baby and beast, the 2007 Honda Element) will have an easy go of it for the next couple of years. On the way back from the trip to NH, she hit 30,000 miles in London, Ontario. It may be another four years before she hits her next 30K. I can only hope to keep her young as long as possible.

The trip also included two minor detours: One, a visit to U-Mass at Amherst, where I had possibly the best crêpes this side of the Big Pond. Two, a stop at Harvard to visit a dear friend who is finishing her MFA in dramaturgy. All around, a good academic glance of the northeast. The flowers were out in bloom on Harvard’s campus and colours were just coming into their spectacular prime. I couldn’t resist a picture of my mother under the scholar’s trees. So “her”:

Until August, I’m saving up by working part time at Coldwell Banker real estate as an office admin. And, up until last week, I was also taking a course at the University of Michigan on Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales. You know, just for fun. Like you do. I’m sad the semester is finished, actually. It was one of the best courses I’ve taken. I fell in love with Middle English and Chaucer’s cheeky poetry. I’m also addicted to the UofM and considering adding a summer course with my favourite Michigan prof to keep me tuned in and ready for the fall. We’ll see if finances permit. Go Blue!