My Name Is Asher, And I Am A Nerd

I realize this may not come as a shock to some of you out there in cyberspace. You may have noticed my tendency to obsess about obscure minutiae, predilection for multisyllabic words, and the fact that I have chosen to study organ, as opposed to some instrument with greater portability and public appeal (though, come on, what would creepy movies be without organ music, guys?). You may have already diagnosed me appropriately.

I, meanwhile, really just sorta figured it out. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’ve known I was fairly geeky for ages. But here’s the thing: my math instructor, Dr. H., sent out a message to the class when went something like, “Hey, since it’s Spring Break and you’re probably really missing math right now, I have kindly made the homework for the next class segment available. Awesome, amirite?” (Okay, so that’s not precisely how it went, but, you know.)

…And my first thought was, “Awesome! Now I can get ahead on my math studies!”


Now, to be fair, I was already planning on doing a bunch of extra math stuff over the break, because I want to make sure I'm seriously on top of all the material. I need my to maintain my GPA (currently, a 3.96). I guess I am learning the art of goal-directed behavior, now that I have a couple of goals and some sense of how to accomplish them.

Also, this is one weird math class — we've skipped from matrices to set theory, logic, and probability; next we'll wade into the Exciting World of Statistics (so I can learn how to better manipulate data to serve my nefarious plans … MWAHAHAHAHAHA!!!). So it's not like the material builds upon itsef; by the time our final (which is cumulative) rolls around, I won't have Gaussed a Jordan since … well, a while ago. February? January? I don't want to forget how. Not yet.

I just can't say I ever expected to turn out to be one of those "Heck yeah! Math homework on Spring Break!" people (conversely, I have also had no delusions of spending Spring Break on a sunny beach somewhere with 50,000 of my drunkest, most sunburned friends — though, at the moment, fair weather and open waters sound great, the crowd-of-rabidly-drunk-undergrads-factor just isn't my scene).

So, there you go. Apparently, I am a nerd. So now I am going to go own my nerdiness.

In bicycular news:

No riding today. I'm feeling a bit better, and optimistic that I will, indeed, recover without the need for prednisone (though I am still going to try to see our doc and find out if we can get something going in terms of better managing the ol' asthma).

That said, I didn't sleep well at all last night (one last, wicked, semi-continuous coughing fit that went on for eeeeeeevar), so I am not being terribly productive today. Likewise, it is chilly enough out that I suspect my lungs would go straight to Threat Level: Magenta! and completely close shop, and probably pull down one of those metal shop-door-covers one sees in iffy neighborhoods around the world (though I've never seen one in Louisville, oddly enough) for good measure.

Instead, I have been doing flexibility and mild core strength stuff (OMG, you guys, I'm cross-training!). You know, cheating on the bike. It turns out that when you need to get the schmutz out of your bronchial tubes, doing the plank for thirty seconds is a good start.

It's not like aerobic exercise, wherein, if you have bronchitis, you're sucking wind, hawking up furballs, and dying the whole time (true story: about 45 minutes after taking Mucinex, a decongestant, and two hits off the ol' inhaler, I felt about 6,000 times better; it's amazing what a little oxygen will do for a person: this has nothing to do with aerobic exercise, though). I don't know if it's positional, or what, but the plank seems to get the gunk flowing skyward.

You get up, give a good cough, and … erm, go find a tissue, or the nearest handy drainpipe. Works like a charm.

You're welcome for that image, by the way.

We'll see if I can, to any degree, stick with some sort of program for the whole core-strength thing. I'm sort of awful in that I actually enjoy all those exercises (plank, push-ups, crunches, etc.) and will do them 'til my eyes bleed in a class, but the rest of the time I tend to forget to do them.

I am really good at forgetting things, but I've decided I'm tired of losing the rather awesome core strength that I built up through an entire childhood of gymnastics, horseback riding, skiing, and dance. I also realize that, while I will always be more flexible than the average bear simply by dint of genetic endowment, like everyone else, if I don't use my flexiblity, I will lose it. I have lost some, but nothing I can’t regain. The idea is to regain and maintain it. I’m hoping that this will help me remember to work on my core and on stretching.

Unfortunately, my fabulous fitness ball has disappeared, presumably to actually do its intended job (physical therapy), so I’ll have to see about laying hands (and feet, and ankles, and…) on another one. Theoretically, we have about 137 of the things lying around somewhere.

Anyway, I plan to harness my natural desire to show off to inspire myself to regain such fitness as I have lost. I shall put it to good use at Burning Man, where people appreciate that sort of thing.

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About asher

Me in a nutshell: Blissfully married, ballet-and-bicyle-obsessed gay intersexed boy. Half-baked dancer. Mediocre gravel racer. Learning to live with bipolar disorder. Indiana University Southeast psychology senior (go Grenadiers!). Proto-foodie, but lazy about it. Cat owner ... or, should I say, cat own-ee? ... dog lover. Equestrian.

Posted on 2013/03/25, in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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