Coffee, blog, run


Food and Coding at NorthEnd Coffee shop, Banani, Dhaka by Kausar Alam is licensed under CC-CC0 1.0

Well, the semester has finally ended, and I have the entire summer off. I would like to laze around the house and relax all summer. I will relax, but I have also set some goals for myself. I will begin each day with coffee, a blog post, and a morning run.

I’m very self-disciplined when I need to be and when I want to be. I have decided to be very self-disciplined once again. I will wake up to a morning cup of coffee to get me started. For me, coffee is a stimulant, not a crutch. The aroma and that first sip get my creative juices flowing. Coffee also prepares my body for my morning run because it’s a diuretic. I’ll spare you the details. Of course, I must be incredibly careful not to drink too much or I’ll have to make an unscheduled pit stop and it’s not always easy finding a restroom while on the run. Especially in the morning when most public places are closed.

The blog post should be easy to write since the first thing I do after I prepare my coffee is turn on the computer. I just have to ensure that I don’t check my email or Facebook first. These distractions can wait until after I write my blog post while I drink my coffee. As I sit alone by my computer with my coffee mug writing my blog post right now, I feel great satisfaction because I’m doing something I enjoy so much. Well, not the drinking coffee part, but the writing and using my computer. Computers have really made it easier for me to write. But that’s a post for another day.

After the coffee and the blog comes the run. Running is the one constant throughout my life. Running takes up only a small portion of my day, but my entire day must revolve around the run if I want to get a good run in. In the 1980s I use to run a lot of miles because I wanted to improve my race times so I could get a running scholarship, but that never materialized. Mainly because I developed allergies and/or I over-trained and burned out too soon. But I kept running anyway. I always managed to run three to six miles several days per week. The last couple of years, I consistently ran four and a half miles at least four times per week.

Then, something took over my running. I’m not sure what it was. For a few years, I tried to increase my mileage, but I was unsuccessful. I would always develop new aches and pains that prevented me from running more than four and a half miles. Then, my son Alex started running track. I went to every track meet possible. When I saw the track meets last year, I felt inspired to run again. Suddenly, I started running more miles. Not necessarily faster, but certainly more miles. In fact, with each track meet that I saw, I was inspired by not only by my son, who turned out to be an exceptionally good 400-meter runner, but also by the other runners who struggled just to finish with determination. Slowly, I increased my mileage until I reached nine miles or so.

Well, I’ve completed the coffee and the blog part of my daily morning routine. Now it’s off to my run!

DDR

Snow dibs


The view of my car from my front porch.

I woke up early this morning to shovel my sidewalks and dig out my car so I could get to UIC on time. This was the third time I had shoveled in twenty-four hours, and I actually enjoyed shoveling! Since I don’t like to run in the snow because I’m afraid to twist my weak ankles yet again, shoveling snow is my alternate form of exercise on snowy days. I like to brag that I’m cross-training. I love shoveling snow about as much as I hate mowing the lawn. But those are responsibilities of a homeowner. So, I enjoyed shoveling out my car and then returning home after school and parking in the very same place.

In many Chicago neighborhoods, people shovel out their parking spots and then place old chairs or other unwanted furniture that is worthless (just in case it gets stolen or thrown away by the City of Chicago) to reserve their parking spots. This is a time-honored Chicago tradition that I remember from the 1960s. This causes more arguments than even the White Sox vs. the Cubs debate that is so quintessential Chicago. In fact, people have been shot for freshly shoveled parking spaces.

Chicago Sun-Times, February 20, 2010

I have always shoveled out my parking space, but I have never placed junk on the street to reserve my space. I usually shovel my car out and when I come back, I park in the same space that I shoveled if I’m fortunate enough that it’s still available. If it’s not, I shovel out a new spot and park there. One year, I ended up shoveling my whole block one parking space at a time and everyone on the block seemed incredibly happy with the arrangement. In fact, my neighbors showed their appreciation by not shooting me.

When I came home today, I parked right in front of my house in the very same parking spot that I had shoveled out this morning. I was surprised by my good luck to be able to park in the same place, so I just had to take a picture. Behold! I took this picture from the comfort of my front porch!

DDR

Coffee


Dr. D.’s favorite household appliance.

I never used to drink coffee until I discovered its magical powers of keeping me awake after sleep-depriving nights and its ability to make me look pensive and meditative while reading in the coffee shop. While I do enjoy the coffee that baristas offer, I always prefer to drink my own home-brewed concoction. I don’t know why, but my coffee tastes better to me than even the most expensive gourmet coffee at any coffee shop.

I love to lounge around the house in the morning sipping at my coffee while I read my e-mail before I go out for my morning run. I used to have a Mr. Coffee with a timer that my mother-in-law gave me for my birthday, but then she died, I got divorced, and my Mr. Coffee stopped working.

So, I decided to splurge on a new coffee maker. I bought a Cuisinart Grind and Brew coffee maker in 2003 and enjoyed its coffee until about three months ago. It had a timer, so I was able to set it up the night before and literally wake up and smell the coffee. About two years ago, my beloved Cuisinart stopped functioning like new and I tried to fix it–following in my father’s footsteps–but I was lucky to put it back together again without improving its performance. The only thing I got out of the experience was a headache, minor cuts on my fingertips, and a very lame blog entry. But I continued using the coffee maker until about two months ago when I could no longer disassemble the grinder to wash it. I tried everything to pry it out, but it was more stubborn than me.

Finally, I decided to buy another coffee maker. This was my chance to try a new brand, but I loved my Cuisinart so much that I decided to buy the exact same model again. I bought it in 2003 for $125 plus sales tax. So, I expected to pay much more in 2008. Surprisingly, that model was still about the same price at most stores, but I like shopping online and I noticed that amazon.com sold it for $119, with no sales tax and no shipping charges.

Then, I noticed that they also sold a refurbished version of the same model. I was incredibly surprised to discover that a refurbished coffee maker cost more than a new one: $144! Obviously, I bought a new one. I received it at my door within three business days! I happened to be home at the time and the UPS guy put the package directly in my own hands! I was glad I bought the new model because Cuisinart had improved its performance ever so slightly, but enough to make a notable difference that was apparent from the first cup of coffee. In fact, I burned myself with the very first sip. I didn’t realized the my old coffee maker was no longer making very hot coffee. Wow! Hopefully, I’ll get at least five years out of this one.

DDR

Work


Dr. D. running for the Beatrice Corporate Marathon Team.

I’ve often heard that “work” is a four-letter word. No wonder I try to avoid it at all costs. But wait, “word” is also a four-letter word! Hm. And so is “four!”

The more I think about work, the less I like it. I’ve worked all my adult life despite never having a job that I really loved, or at least liked even a little bit. I mean, I can work extremely hard as long as what I do isn’t classified as “work.” If I have to do physical or intellectual labor for someone else, and hopefully, for a salary, I’m unhappy and resentful.

I can work out all day just for the fun of it because I’m doing it just for me. Years ago, when I ran marathons, I used to run more than one-hundred-mile weeks just because I loved running marathons and I wanted to run my fastest marathon possible.

One of my pet peeves of having a job is having a boss who bosses me around. But worse than me being ordered about by someone on a power trip who loves to exert his or her authority just to show everyone who’s the boss, is having me in charge and having me order people around.

When I worked at the peanut butter factory, I did repetitive, monotonous manual labor. My first job was stacking sixty cases of peanut butter on wooden pallets. Each case weighed about forty pounds. I learned how to save a step here, an arm movement there. When you work eight hours doing manual labor, every motion adds up. That was the only way to conserve my energy so I wouldn’t wear myself out. Sometimes when the assembly line broke down, I got to rest awhile. Eventually, I brought a paperback with me so I could read during my breaks and whenever the line was down. Well, my bosses couldn’t stand to see me sitting there doing nothing, so they would always find something for me to do like sweep the floor, stack pallets up, etc. Well, no matter how many things I was supposed to do during that downtime, I always figured out a way to do everything more efficiently. No matter. I still always had time to sit and read. My boss finally gave up on finding more tasks for me.

My mother used to get mad at me because I didn’t aspire to get promoted or take better paying positions such as mechanic. My mother coached me as to what to say whenever I was approached to advance on the job. The boss would usually ask if I could do a certain task and I was supposed to answer, “No, but I can learn!” Every time I was asked, I would say, “No, I don’t know how.” “Would you like to learn?” “No.” And that would be the end of my climbing the company ladder.

Somehow, my mother would always find out about my new job offer and yell at me for not accepting the promotion. She would call me lazy and unambitious. Back then I was really into kung fu, so on my days off I would work out all day. I want to build up my endurance and stamina. In fact, at work I could work tirelessly for hours. Then, one day, against my wishes–due to a shortage of manpower–I was promoted to assistant foreman on one of the peanut butter production lines. Suddenly, I found myself having to boss my fellow employees around. And they didn’t like it! They liked me well enough as a coworker but hated me as their boss. One likely reason was because I was younger than them. I was caught in the middle. My boss would give me orders to get certain things done, and I had to make the workers work. Well, absolutely no one obeyed any of my commands. So, silently, I started doing all the work that had to be done. And everyone just watched me. I didn’t complain. I just kept working, minding my own business. I didn’t know what else to do. At least, I wouldn’t get in trouble for not working. Eventually, everyone started working alongside me. I was shocked! When we were done, the foreman showed up and congratulated us on a job well-done. After that, I never bossed anyone around, but everyone did their job before I even had to tell them. Go figure!

DDR

UIC Chess Club


My high school chess set

Well, last night I played chess again at the UIC Chess Club. It was my first time in about thirty years playing at a chess club. Yes, I was a bit rusty. And no, my moves didn’t suddenly come back to me. But I’m glad I went. I need some sort of intellectual stimulus to exercise my mind. I mean I go running to exercise my body, so I want my mind to be healthy, too. I enjoyed playing chess last night. I was easily the oldest one in the room. But I got along well with everyone there. I plan to play chess every Tuesday from now on. But I’m promising myself not to get too involved with chess so that it becomes an obsession. That’s why I haven’t played chess for years. I’m afraid to become addicted to it–again!

DDR