Today was the first day I’ve slept in in a really long time. It felt good. I got up and did a very vigorous home practice, recorded some videos to send to my mom in California because she wants to learn some yoga, then went paddleboarding with a friend. As we were out on the water she said, “My god, your legs are ripped. And I didn’t even recognize you when you walked up to me today.” On the phone this morning, my mom was marveling at how calm I’ve sounded recently. Trust me, this is a feat. I think I’ve pretty much always been naturally calibrated to “high stress,” and years of schooling in highly competitive environments in addition to 15-plus years of publishing have really cemented that into me. I certainly was doing the training for me and me alone (I don’t see how anyone could make it through training if it was for anyone else other than herself), but I’d by lying if I said it didn’t still feel good to hear that stuff. Progress can seem so nominal–and even undetectable–when you’re living in your own head and body every day, so it is nice to get that reinforcement from others that, yes, progress is being made.
Anyway, my friend A. and I spent a couple of hours paddleboarding on the Charles today. It was hard going, but still great to get out. I came home and crashed for a couple of hours after that and am now gearing up to pick C. up from South Station for her second stay this weekend, on her way back from New York to Maine.