new balance

The end of a project brings a mixed bag of reactions, and I don't even know yet what that mixture will be, but I can already feel it happening. To go into great detail here would be unwise, imprudent, unhealthy, and possibly self-destructive, but in general terms I think I can process it better if I write something.

The symptoms so far are not unlike any other loss. Relief, good riddance, a gaping vacuum in my day, looking around occasionally for the usual obsessive-compulsive need to throw myself into the fray. Like in high school at the end of basketball season, after being immersed in conditioning, practice, preparation, and games since October, so now what do I do?

I do other things, obviously, and it's nice to have a minute to tie up some other loose ends. Like moving Zelda out of her apartment in Cuyahogaville the other day, when her furniture was packed all snug in the truck, and we secured the bed frame on top of the mattress with ropes, finally tying up that last loose end to the corner of the truck bed. Kind of like that.

But different. I've had recurring dreams of last-minute lists of items to double-check and forgotten page-proofs that turn up after the fact, then I wake up relieved that they were dream page-proofs and dream lists, baut not completely believing that either. Getting dressed over the weekend I was actually looking forward to doing some things that need to be done - notes, correspondence, house repairs, car maintenance, family time - with the caveat that now I don't have The Project as an excuse for not doing the hundred other things that I didn't have time for before.

Then there's everyday practice. During the peak intensity of The Project, I managed to keep a relatively healthy routine going; not the balanced life I would recommend but not a downward spiral either. I was eating a reasonable diet, except for the Skyline Chilidogs on late nights at the office, and exercising at least a little bit every day. My workouts have been baseline maintenance, just enough to keep me going, get enough sleep, and function unimpaired, but I haven't done the kind of workouts that builds strength or endurance.

Alcohol consumption has gone up, and I've become a familiar face to the friendly Vietnamese clerk at the State Store. I will probably cut back a little and undoubtedly feel better now that there's less need to self-medicate.

It will be a different rhythm, and it will be a welcome change. I can tell that it won't happen all by itself, and I won't magically pick up totally wholesome habits; ironically, it will take work to find the new rhythm, and the things I've been neglecting haven't fallen into place by themselves, huh. I remember when I was a T.A. in graduate school, one of my students, an actor, did his final project by placing a running shoe and a taiji shoe on opposite sides of a yin-yang symbol to signify the change in his personal fitness routine. The brand of running shoe was, of course, New Balance.