Adam Brown came over yesterday (geez, I feel like I'm always a day behind on posting). He stopped by to drop off a check for Regionals, and stayed long enough to chat. Somehow we landed on the topic of pushups, comparing regular pushups, and from-the-knees pushups.

From the knees? Adam asked. Pffft! They're easy!

Kris and I looked at each other, in that all knowing look that we have when someone asks, "How hard can it be?"

I laughed then, and said, sure, how about 200 girlie pushups?

Sure, why not, he answered, and dropped down to start them.

He made it to 40 before stopping.

Not so easy, eh?

There is something pretty magical about being able to go outside into the backyard in the middle of November, harvest some vegetables, come back in and fix most of a meal with them.

On the way to class yesterday, I commented to Kris that, if I had enough money, I would buy up a large part of downtown Gary and organize groups of neighbors to help each other, in sort of a barter system. Sure, the people there may not have a lot, or be well educated, but everyone can learn a skill and everyone can do something to give to the next person (even if it's just raking leaves to continue a compost bin). Most people just need help figuring out what to do.

Kris looked at me briefly, then looked back to the road, and was quiet for a while. Eventually, he asked me, "When did you become such an idealist?"

Uh...

Me?

An idealist?

Most definitely not. More like the biggest cynic Kris knows, more of a pessimist than an optimist, that glass is always half empty, if not more than.

But, really, think about it. Dad and I drove down one of the main Gary thoroughfares, which had empty lots, abandoned buildings and very few operating businesses. Given the cold weather, I wasn't surprised I didn't see a lot of people standing around, either. Each of the buildings was an opportunity, the vacant lots a chance for advancement. The only thing missing is knowledge and motivation. Start a program where people can learn a trade, help each other, have something to do, build something new, and have a better life.

Of course, that's where my argument died.

Kris quietly commented, "Sure, you can run something like that, but, really, the people who are going to be able to help themselves, well, are probably already helping themselves."

Yeah, most likely yes.

On my journey home from Velocity today, Kris dropped me off at the local train station for me to ride the commuter train back down south. I much prefer leaving my car at the station and riding up with Kris (only to take the train back down and hopping in my car), to sloughing up in my car through the crappy traffic (made particularly bad this morning by an accident that blocked all the lanes but the carpool lane and backed traffic up no less than 6 miles of stopped traffic) and drive back. Besides lost time in driving (can't be (text) blogging if I'm driving), with my car, the train fare is less expensive than the gas used. Ideally I'd have a light enough pack that I could walk home, a 45 minute walk from the station, without collapsing under the weight of my pack. I'm not there yet.

But I (completely) digress.

As I was going to validate my ticket at the train station, I noticed a woman standing close to the ticket vending machine. When I set my bag down to fish out my ticket, she grabbed her bag, which was a good four feet from me and well outside of my personal space and, since my personal space is larger than most people's personal space, I assumed outside of her space.

I was wrong.

As she reached down to move her bag, I noticed she had a large can of Coors Light in her hand. Not the 12 oz cans, not the 16oz cans, the giant 24oz can, and she was swigging from the can. Swigging while trying to engage the other commuter sitting on the far side of the bench, trying hard to read and not encourage this woman.

As I fished out my ticket from my bag and went to validate the ticket, I kept watching the woman. I have no idea if she noticed my watching, I can't say I care, though I'm sure she heard my camera click as I took a picture of her. Alas, not of the giant can she was drinking from.

Coors Light. At 9:45 in the morning.

In the morning.

Of course, the Coors might explain why, when our train arrived, the woman bolted from the platform. I assumed because she realized she was standing on the southbound side and her train, which was going north, was arriving on the other side of the platform. The other side, which requires a giant staircase down, dash under and another giant staircase up to be on.

No idea if she made her train, which was arriving from the opposite direction just as ours was.

A beer. Before 10 in the morning.

Might be for the carbs?

Today's workout was 15 minutes of intense "how many can you do" exercises. In paricular, we had:

5 minutes of squats
4 minutes of box jumps
3 minutes of split squat jumps (lunge jumps)
2 minutes of kettle ball swings
1 minute of jumping rope

We had a minute or so rest between each of the exercises, which isn't really enough time to recover. I didn't manage nearly as many as I was hoping to make in the various exercises, not by a lot. I did manage 150 squats in the five minutes, which was the fewest number in our group. I barely eked out those 150 squats, determined to finish that many because it was 3 rounds of 50.

Both Kris and I had problems walking out of Velocity, our legs were so exhausted. I think I will be deliciously sore tomorrow.