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abendgulesMy back has eased enough that I can run again - or run and walk, 5 mins alternating, which honestly isn't much slower than me running all the time. So I've done 2 runs this week, a long one on Sunday and a lunchtime one yesterday.
Because it's been weeks since I ran at work, I discovered I was towel-less having carefully taken all my sweaties home before my holiday. Even better, I realised it just as I was returning from the run, only lightly sweaty, but too sticky to simply change back into work clothes.
So I became that despised creature, the person who borrows your towel without asking. I offend even myself - except that the alternatives were ickier for me and my coworkers.
My osteo, unsurprisingly, says people should move more: our bodies are made to move and to walk, and everytime he asks if I sit all day I have to say, uncomfortably, 'yes, I do'. (No great surprise: my last osteo said 'most peoples' backs would heal up if they could walk half an hour a day').
When I mentioned this to my mgr, she pointed out an unused height-adjustable desk, bought for someone who has decamped to another office. To my delight, it's a powered height-adjustable desk - very whizzy. We all gasped when the estates guy first pressed the raise and lower buttons - none of us knew it was so cool, or as cool as office furniture can get.
So now I'm standing part of the day to work, and man, does it make you concentrate; it's way harder to doze off and veg when you're standing.
My lower back is still achy, but it's the default achiness, not the ohmygodI'mseizingup achy; my legs are chiming in, in sympathy. We'll see how it progresses after a few weeks.
Summer has reached London, and it arrived just in time for Wimbledon - I thought running Glastonbury and Wimbledon at the same time was simply asking for a weather apocalypse, but apparently not this year.
This week is hot and sunny, and commuters are sprouting sundresses - cute little sundresses that are aired only a couple of days of the year. The fact that so many women have turned out in their cute little sundresses with so little notice shows that sartorial hope survives in the face of experience of English weather.
At least two dresses seen this week I suspected of emerging from my mother's closet, or possibly my own, circa 1982: I haven't worn anything with wide elastic smocking through the bodice since then, and the was just something about the cut of one that said 'early 80s'.
If we've definitely reached '80s vintage' maybe the Apocalypse isn't so far off after all.
The local park is sprouting too - the roses are sprawling. I associate roses with formal carefully maintained gardens, but the parks here are full of them, and they seem to thrive with just a sort of benign neglect of parks staff: spring treatment, autumn cutback, and not much else (well, probably more, but I don't see it). It's very cheering.
For the first time in 4 years, I'm in an office with functional air conditioning - something I took for granted in Canada, but it is by no means standard issue here. I can't put into words how much better it is than the retrofitted glass-walled box I worked in til this spring.
Our new office space was furnished and outfitted for us specially, including working heating and cooling systems, auto-detect lighting (not working very well, at least not over my desk), and TVs, which proved a boon during the tennis.
For some reason, the aerial isn't working this week - good thing it's this week and not last, or there would have been rioting in our office among the tennis fans.
Can you break a digital aerial from overuse? I've no clue, but god knows it was in heavy demand last week.
Because it's been weeks since I ran at work, I discovered I was towel-less having carefully taken all my sweaties home before my holiday. Even better, I realised it just as I was returning from the run, only lightly sweaty, but too sticky to simply change back into work clothes.
So I became that despised creature, the person who borrows your towel without asking. I offend even myself - except that the alternatives were ickier for me and my coworkers.
My osteo, unsurprisingly, says people should move more: our bodies are made to move and to walk, and everytime he asks if I sit all day I have to say, uncomfortably, 'yes, I do'. (No great surprise: my last osteo said 'most peoples' backs would heal up if they could walk half an hour a day').
When I mentioned this to my mgr, she pointed out an unused height-adjustable desk, bought for someone who has decamped to another office. To my delight, it's a powered height-adjustable desk - very whizzy. We all gasped when the estates guy first pressed the raise and lower buttons - none of us knew it was so cool, or as cool as office furniture can get.
So now I'm standing part of the day to work, and man, does it make you concentrate; it's way harder to doze off and veg when you're standing.
My lower back is still achy, but it's the default achiness, not the ohmygodI'mseizingup achy; my legs are chiming in, in sympathy. We'll see how it progresses after a few weeks.
Summer has reached London, and it arrived just in time for Wimbledon - I thought running Glastonbury and Wimbledon at the same time was simply asking for a weather apocalypse, but apparently not this year.
This week is hot and sunny, and commuters are sprouting sundresses - cute little sundresses that are aired only a couple of days of the year. The fact that so many women have turned out in their cute little sundresses with so little notice shows that sartorial hope survives in the face of experience of English weather.
At least two dresses seen this week I suspected of emerging from my mother's closet, or possibly my own, circa 1982: I haven't worn anything with wide elastic smocking through the bodice since then, and the was just something about the cut of one that said 'early 80s'.
If we've definitely reached '80s vintage' maybe the Apocalypse isn't so far off after all.
The local park is sprouting too - the roses are sprawling. I associate roses with formal carefully maintained gardens, but the parks here are full of them, and they seem to thrive with just a sort of benign neglect of parks staff: spring treatment, autumn cutback, and not much else (well, probably more, but I don't see it). It's very cheering.
For the first time in 4 years, I'm in an office with functional air conditioning - something I took for granted in Canada, but it is by no means standard issue here. I can't put into words how much better it is than the retrofitted glass-walled box I worked in til this spring.
Our new office space was furnished and outfitted for us specially, including working heating and cooling systems, auto-detect lighting (not working very well, at least not over my desk), and TVs, which proved a boon during the tennis.
For some reason, the aerial isn't working this week - good thing it's this week and not last, or there would have been rioting in our office among the tennis fans.
Can you break a digital aerial from overuse? I've no clue, but god knows it was in heavy demand last week.
