Tasting: a chocolate-orange protein bar that tasted like cough syrup
Feeling: very sore legs, a slightly phlegmy throat
Hearing: a truck make those awful crashy noises it makes when it goes around a tight bumpy road, my own voice being sort of half-there
Smelling: mushrooms and red onions sautéeing, melted frozen berry juice
Seeing: a clear sky, gross splatters on the sidewalk
I was supposed to go to my first Olympic weightlifting training session, but I was only one of two (out of the required six) needed to run a training. So, I just used the opportunity to get back to the workout that my trainer back in Maryland gave me. Or at least, most of it. There’s a lot of stuff that either isn’t there, or is in a location unknown to me. And a lot to get used to, like kilograms. But one thing that remains the same is sore my quads are going to be tomorrow.
Then I was off to my two classes in a row, then off to the shop to buy some tape because that’s a useful thing to have on hand, and a protein bar to snack on because my classes were during lunch and I’m also after those #gains. I wanted to try one I hadn’t before, and made the mistake of getting one so gross that I couldn’t eat the whole thing. The texture was fantastic, like a chewy, fluffy cake. But as you saw in the sensory blurb up top, it tasted like medicine. It was made in Cork though, so I guess I feel good about supporting local business.
I went up to the music building for Jazz ensemble, and made the mistake (?) again of grabbing the first practice room I saw when entering, which was indeed right in the entrance. That led to some slightly awkward and uncomfortable practicing, partly because I didn’t really have anything from class to practice and partly because I could see people pausing outside the fogged glass and possibly looking in.
Jazz was a little awkward too. The teacher remembers that I mentioned that I trained in classical piano (and now has me pinned as The Classical Musician which is a role I do not play) but can hardly remember my name. Well, anyone’s really. And I think he severely underestimates my jazz knowledge. I did learn some stuff though, so it wasn’t bad.
I cooked myself dinner that night: a grilled cheese with mushrooms and onion, and for dessert I made the leftover chocolate challah into French toast. Even though there were many things I could multitask in that time, I tried to make a point of cooking meditatively and being present in making the food. I did, however, have my phone nearby so I could take pictures of the finished product.