In Shanghai I got up every weekday morning no later than 6:30 am. I rode my bike to work (5 minutes away), stopped on the way to grab a baozi shu tzai or two (steamed dumpling stuffed with greens) from a street stall and was at work at 7:00. I taught "Science" to middle school students all day, and then did planning. I planned all kinds of creative projects - my grade 8's made gigantic cells from all kinds of materials that covered the bulletin boards down the hall and cartooned meiosis, the grade 7's made delta's with sand and water, the grade 6's made somewhat proportionally accurate 3 dimensional topographic maps of real mountains out of salto - and then I brought my marking home (some days).
Some evenings before bed I would cycle all around the french concession or southeast of Hongqiao Lu toward Ikea, the stadium and the very Chinese area of hidden alleys and backstreet markets. The streets would be virtually deserted. I'd return home late to collapse into a deep sleep. I slept 7 or 7.5 hours a night, practiced Ashtanga yoga at a studio three times a week, and made multiple mixed CD's for my frequent runs around the Hongqiao neighbourhood. I could ascend into a head stand without bending my knees, scorpion in a shoulder stand and at a staff BBQ had a cartwheel race down the length of the soccer field with my soul-buddy collapsing in a pile of laughter at the end.
She and I would get into crazy wrestling and jumping on the bed matches in the early morning hours of the morning after a night out in Shangahi. These weekends were another story. I often hit the clubs with the other teaching staff, drank too much, and eventually climbed in the back of a taxi bound for Songyuan Lu where my roomy apartment and firm Chinese mattress awaited. That got old after a while. During the day, I explored the city by bicycle. I loved the clothing markets. I would find some unique items there, sometimes from European designers. I was just small enough to fit some of the cool stuff. Eating a diet predominantly of rice, greens and tofu, I probably looked skinny, but I felt great. Sometimes I cooked, but mostly I ate on Songyuan Lu at my local "diner" for about a $1.50. On the same street I'd have my hair dried and straightened for the same amount. I'd get massages from a young blind masseuse who intuitively knew what areas to work on.
That was five years ago. It was not the only time I have felt fit, healthy and energetic, but it is the one I keep remembering wistfully. Often I hear myself saying "what is wrong with me"? I have energetic days, "this is it!" days. Like today. Sitting in my office on the 3rd floor at Cap. U looking out at beautiful view of the water and the city after four hours of teaching I felt vital. Passing a cyclist cresting the summit of the hill at Lion's Bay, I thought "I could do that!" But then, a day or two later, I am tired again.
Why can't I lose this baby weight? Why can't I stick to eating well? Why can't I make exercise a regular part of my life? I guess the answer is obvious.
Still I wondered if it was more than sleep deprivation and the energy output required to maintain my life. Low iron? Vitamin deficiencies? Getting older? Ambivalence? Today was reassuring. Paul spent the night with Halle (who has been sleeping terribly this past week or more), bottle fed her, and I slept in our little hobbit hovel downstairs (where he has been sleeping this terrible week). I shut my eyes sometime shortly after 10, opened them at 6:15, remembered nothing in between, got up, pumped milk, got ready (all without even going upstairs), hit Zeph for a coffee, breakfast and lunch to go and was heading south on Hwy 99 by seven. With no children to cart around and take care of and at a job I enjoy I had a great day. I stopped at Park Royal on the way home, bought myself some new cloths in Aritzia (pants that fit because this time the weight is lingering and I might as well wear something I like) and now it's 9:30 and I haven't yawned once.
There's nothing wrong with me. I don't even think I would have been able to do all this that more energetically in my twenties. I will be an energetic person again. I will. Someday. One day I won't have to sleep in until 9 (or 10:30) to feel that way.
My story is over, but I have to say something for the record and in fairness to my better half. He is sleeping downstairs to get some rest (he's still a night owl though) and the trade off is he gets up with the kids (or I switch with him even earlier - 6am - oh the guilt) and I get a couple hours all to my self.
Zzzzzzzzz
great story... i was picturing myself there. sounds wonderful!
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