Trim Tram Donovan

The State of the Swim

Masters Swim Class rages on through the dreaded duldrums of late Winter. Jerry continues to pace by all the pool lanes giving notes while we try to accomplish the goals put on a moist piece of paper that sticks to an orange caution cone that sits on the deep end of the water.

We're given workouts that range from very easy to very hard. We're asked to bob in the water 10 times and exhaling all the CO2 from our lungs. We're allowed to come back up only when it's all gone, "When you think you've hit the end of your breath, pause for a second and come up. That will make sure that you have it all out," Jerry instructs us. We're given a plastic cup and told to fill it up with water a third of the way, do the backstroke and hold the cup on the forehead. Balance, as you might expect, is the key to this exercise.

I'm still having problems in certain spots. I've been suggested to rotate my body more so that my core brings my arm around rather than moving my arm. He's also suggested bringing my head more into the water along with my hands during the 'pull' of the stroke. I need to build endurance still. I get winded in a 50 meter workout and it's hard to stay completely relaxed.

There are times when I want to walk away but I keep telling myself that the more I swim, the easier it gets. Even if it's a bad workout, I have to keep swimming.

Jerry tells me that I'm not alone with my issues. He tells me that even guys in other lanes have the type of issues that I have. I know it's supposed to be a comforting thing to say but it only makes me feel more alone in the water for some reason.

The Coldest Day of the Year

I'm not going out on a limb to say that today may be the coldest day of the year. Schools in Wisconsin are closed and business are telling everyone to stay at home. Wind Chill warnings flood into my email box from local weather stations. Television Weather people say that exposed skin in this climate could get frostbite if left out for ten minutes.

Even if there's enough weather talk to make Chicken Little run in circles, my swim class marches on--without closing or easing up. About two weeks ago, my lane was charged with the duty of swimming 20 laps while holding tennis balls. It seems like some kind of hazing but I guess it has some functional value. It became increasingly frustrated and tried to walk out. To my dismay, I was stopped by the trainer who claimed I was improving. I told him that I would be back for the next class but, instead, skipped it.

This past Monday, I returned to swim. To my surprise, I had improved. By this point, temperatures had started plummeting into our current sub-zero temps. Though it was getting worse outside, I was getting better. I delightfully walked to my car after the end of class and my hair was frozen.

Wednesday was successful as well. I got through the whole workout and only got stronger as the class continued.

Today has to be the coldest day of the year but I can't really tell.

Somebody Died

My house has never been this quiet. Ian got burnt out on watching television and told me that he didn't want to watch it (believe it!). He's been playing quietly by himself. Time to time, he'll ask for fruit snacks. There's ice everywhere outside and it's not fit to leave the house. Now I have no excuse.

The Christmas decorations are still up and I need to take them down. There's something depressing about it all. The celebration is over and it's self-admitted too. Unlike the typical parties where you clean up plastic cups and lay on the couch, post-christmas activities force you to take these happy items and put them in a box. It's like I was telling them, "Thank you but we won't need you until next Christmas. Thanks." Wrap them up. Box them away.

Even worse: I was doing it by myself. It was so miserable that I stopped when I spotted a Rubik's Cube and tried to solve it. I realized my denial of obligation and went back to work packing Christmas decorations.

Needles were flying everywhere from the formerly fresh greenery. I carried the tree and the evergreens to the curb. I threw them on top of the ice covered snow piles so The City of Fitchburg can pick it up.

My house has never been this quiet. Ian wants to sit and talk. I let him. After a while, he lets me finish my post holiday duties. 

I talk to somebody who says that packing holiday decorations is like "Somebody died." It's true. You're taking these happy things and tucking them away. Thanks.

Best Laid Plans:New Years Eve::Great Menus:Recipe for Disaster

I actually just shook my bottle. Like I was in disbelief that my beer bottle was empty. Shake shake shake. What? OK. I should have a full bottle to recount these things. I switched over from a darker winter ale to a lighter traditional lager.

I'll take a sip.

J.P. told me to have the New Year's Eve party that led to disaster. At her command, I put a small affair together that went from being seemingly "OK" to, in my summary, a fucking disaster.

At the last minute, I put a menu together of food that tried to include the three very important groups of eaters:

1. People Who Like Good Food

2. Those Who Can Only Eat Gluten Free Food

3. Those Who are Allergic to Shellfish

I appreciate all those characteristics and built the menu to fill every tummy for all three groups.

And why shouldn't I have this party? Jeni and Franny went to Atlanta and I'm left with Ian T. "Curly" Donovan! We're bachelors, for Christ's sake!

I put together a genius menu of pre-planning. I let Spanish cuisine inspire me without forgetting that I wanted to be able to mingle with my friends. I would leave one dish and the ending of another dish so that people would see that I actually am doing work on this. I expected about twelve and it wasn't hard to make it easy on myself!

1. Italian Wedding Soup (prepared and simmering)

2. Shrimp & Roasted Red Pepper Quesadillas

3. Roasted Red Meatballs

4. Bruschetta and Toasted Gluten-Free Bread (or so I thought)

5. Cooked Shrimp with Cocktail Sauce

6. Mussels in White Wine Sauce

The only final touch (raise my left eyebrow) is a nice fire! Down side: My wood burning fireplace takes a long time to light. Put the big logs down and my usual scuttle of wood scraps in hopes that it will help light faster. I open the flue. Or so I thought. I walked away to "dress up" (read: plaid shirt and corduroys) and "clean up" (read: wash my face and make sure my hair isn't too fucked up). And I get out to the living room where Ian's watch Spongebob very, very closely and smoke has filled the living room.

I immediately understood that instead of opening the flue, I closed it and dealt with everything else. "IAN, GET OUT OF THIS ROOM. WATCH THIS IN OUR BEDROOM." He moved very quickly and kept asking why even if there was a cloud of smoke that filled the room. I shut our bedroom door. Ran to the the flue and opened it. I shut the fireplace doors and opened all the doors and windows available to me. Hoping the stream of wind would take it away, I stood there for about thirty seconds. In my opinion, it was moving slowly. Flying downstairs, I noticed the fan was tucked away. I picked it up and ran it up and pointed it to the window and put it on high. I stood there and supervised the dismal of all smoke.

After the smoke cleared, I sprayed Febreeze.

I had about thirty more minutes before my "party start" time.

As it all came together, it was a delight. I put the mussels out and announced it. The only things that disturbed the night were Ian's love for chocolate as well as Buster (the dog) feeling the need to prove that he is mentally incompetent to be with humans.

I was impressed when Breanne asked me, "Is that really Gluten Free Bread? It looks too good!" I impressed even the one who prepares food for those who suffer from Gluten allergies! Aren't I great? I went to the Gluten Free Bakery to find this bread! Ha ha!

As midnight came and went, we toasted the New Year 2009. It's like toasting a child. "Here's to the potential of what may be." About 1:00AM, many left. J.P. stayed and helped clean.

When she was done, she told me that she had to leave. Though I told her to stay and hang for a while, it was time for home. She had to get downtown and it was late. 

Something told me that I should stay up a little bit later. I proceeded to drink a few more and sealed the 'getting hammered' deal. Pffffoooot!

I got a text message from Breanne that the bread must have NOT been rice bread because her boyfriend was crapping all day long. She blamed the smell on me.

What is a successful party? I'm not sure if that was it.

Believe it or not, my bottle's almost empty. Hair of the dog. Works every time.