Only one week between insomnia, this time back-end after getting to sleep normally and sleeping for about two hours. At first I did lay there hoping to fade out while listening to the CD that led me to sleep, but after that played out, I got up and sitting up listened to one of my mix CDs, not even hoping for sleep.

And I started drinking. After the CD, I switched on the TV to watch live LPGA coverage (day 3, Portland) and continued drinking and started to fade during that, and some time after that I put on a Tokyo Jihen concert DVD and definitely faded out shortly.

I slept through most of the DVD, fading in a few times, but afterwards felt fine and rested. Go fig. Even with the drinking I don't feel fucked up like other times. I got enough sleep, albeit it was 2 in the afternoon when I got up.

Geeking out:
I got up during one of the Tokyo Jihen concert's closers. I've had this DVD since 2012 when Tokyo Jihen broke up, and I never knew what this particular song was. It wasn't in their catalog that I knew of.

Then recently, late last year and earlier this year, Shiina Ringo released a bunch of discs to celebrate 15 years since her debut in the business. She released a compilation CD of songs over the years in which she collaborated with other artists; she released a live compilation CD; a live DVD of a post-Tokyo Jihen show which may or may not hint at a new direction for her; and finally a "self-cover" album.

The self-cover album is her versions of songs that she wrote for other people. They're covers because the other people are the original artists. It's like when Carole King co-wrote "(You Make Me Feel Like) A Natural Woman" for Aretha Franklin, the original artist. When Carole King recorded it later, that's what's being called a self-cover in this case.

On one hand, I wonder if she informed those artists that she was going to do this, kinda as a courtesy warning because her versions were going to blow theirs out of the water. Even on paper, anyone would know that because it's Shiina Ringo essentially recording her own songs, even if written for other people.

On the other hand, the original songs are all in the past and her release of her versions are not going to affect sales of the originals in any way (only the integrity). Maybe even boost them. And indeed, in my opinion, her versions for most part blow the originals out of the water. And indeed, I know this because I hunted down the originals online to hear what they were like (more scrupulous people would have bought them, boosting their sales).

Anyway, the song towards the end of Tokyo Jihen's final concert was one of those songs she wrote for someone else (Chiaki Kuriyama, better known in the West as an actress who played Gogo in "Kill Bill, vol. 2") and was like a hibernating Easter egg for me, since I didn't find out what it was until two years later.
/geeking out

The injury to my hand is not nearly as bad as I feared. Nothing broken, no need for a doctor. Basically a bruised pinky that I'm keeping taped for stability until it heals. Should immediately be able to go to the gym, just lay off anything that requires that hand. I suspect I can ride in a day or two as well.

I had a slow-speed crash on my bike today. I was on my way home in not-so-great shape. The hell heat of summer may be over, but it's still pretty hot.

Anyway, the primary cause of the crash was Taipei's poorly maintained roads being a hazard for cyclists. I'll take part credit for being impulsive and not being careful enough. What I remember is hitting an uneven piece of concrete in the drainage lane and going over into a line of motor scooters parked on the curb

The first thing I did is what I usually do when I go down, which is get me and my bike out of traffic. I had knocked over a motor scooter in the fall, which actually created a space to pull my bike onto the sidewalk. I indicated to the motor scooter drivers who witnessed the fall that I was OK. Then proceeded to put upright the motor scooter that I had knocked over.

So the order of events was going over crashing into a parked motor scooter, indicating I was OK, pulling my bike out of traffic, uprighting the motor scooter and then looking at my hand which absorbed the impact of the fall. 

My pinky at the second joint was pointing almost 90 degrees in a direction it wasn't supposed to bend. There was a fleeting thought of "wrong", then a fleeting thought of "doctor", and then a non-thought action of grabbing the pinky and sickeningly yoinking it back into place where it belonged.

The sensation was gross, but it didn't hurt at all, not until later.

This all took place in a fraction of a second. I didn't notice whether anyone was still looking at me, but if anyone was, it probably looked like a badass, manly display of noticing a body part not being in the right position and dispassionately yanking it into the right position. It would've looked disgusting.

And it was grotesque looking at a part of my own body, albeit minor, in a disfigured position. I continued home in a slight state of shock. It was a minor incident, but I knew that it would take a few hours to learn the full extent of the damage or whether I'd need to see a doctor.

I also knew that I'd probably have to deal with an onset of depression that often accompanies these things. Even minor, it forces me to look at various things resulting from the impact of the fall. Even if minor, there's always the possibility of something major.

And what if it turned out I did need to see a doctor or get X-rays? I don't have the structures or support in my life to routinely pursue that. I've chosen a solitary lifestyle, which means I face any downturn alone. No one's going to turn up and say, "OK, let's get you to a doctor".

Anyway, I think there's no major damage or anything broken or requiring medical attention. Where the joint got bent has bruised and I wasn't able to use my right hand for much of anything for several hours, but I've stabilized it by taping to my ring finger. Whatever hurts will just heal on its own in its own time. 

A small detail. Black outs. I experience black outs from alcohol quite often. Even though every night I manage to get my teeth brushed, my dishes done and tucked into bed no problem, I often wake up the next morning having no recollection of any details.

There are mornings that I look at whatever bottle I'd been working on and think that alcohol was a quite reasonable explanation for the memory loss. Rarely, though, is it the case that I realize I will most likely finish off a bottle within a 24-hour period.

That happened for the first time, I think. 26, 27 hours OK. Some overlap between one day's buying a bottle and the next. But finishing off a bottle bought yesterday requiring buying a bottle today hasn't happened before.

Needless to say, today was pretty fucked. I got a reasonable amount of sleep, no insomnia, but morning sitting fell short, as did supplemental sitting. Then I cancelled going to the gym, which is not a problem as maybe I'm going too often. And the rest of the evening was nothing exceptional.

It started with Robin Williams dying and me saying I wasn't severely depressed and I didn't even consider myself depressed. Then I said saying those things were problematic, basically retracting those things, but positing mindfulness training as the control on any depression possibly affecting me.

Since then, depression has poofed up and loomed. Mindfulness training staring it down was a joke to the depression. "You think you can stare me down? Stare down this", and waves and clouds formed around me and it did take an effort to get things back in perspective.

And things aren't totally back in perspective. Things are still a bit of a mess, but that's what the wrong view on reality is. It's a mess. It can be a mess.

I do believe in the teachings, I do believe in the method of cutting through perceived reality to get to what is often called "ultimate" reality. My support is the teachings themselves. No support comes in human, perceived reality form.

I didn't go to the gym for a week. I did go for a couple of rides. I went to the gym today and felt pretty good. I completed a 5k last week at a decent 7:46 pace. Today I just went for 30 minutes at a slower pace without hint of injury.

It's still hot in Taipei, but the hell hot of summer seems to have broken. That's good for riding. I rode over 300 miles in July, but it was hard. I'm thinking summer months are not riding months. I didn't ride in August until this past week and I'll be lucky if I can get over 100 miles this month.

Hell hot over and just being hot now is kinda the equivalent of the hottest days of summer in New Jersey. I can live with it. Again, as long as rain isn't forecast, I'll ride.

It's convenient, isn't it? I'm philosophically suicidal. If I just succumbed to depression, suicide is a logical outcome. But I say any depression I have is tempered by mindfulness and I wouldn't commit suicide just out of depression. But I'm mindfully philosophically suicidal, which still allows for suicide.

It's problematic. Problematic maybe for you, bitches, not for me.

So much for that one-off insomnia. Front-end this time. Of course no one yet knows the source of chronic insomnia, but it's like a switch that doesn't turn off.

Normally when going to sleep, there is something like a switch in the brain that tells the body to stand down and go to sleep. In chronic insomniacs, that switch just doesn't flip. In back-end insomnia, the switch flips but then comes on again after a certain amount of time.

You lie there and sleep just doesn't come, the switch just doesn't flip.

As long as I couldn't sleep, I turned on the LPGA Canadian Open final round live and watched So Yeon Ryu win, beating Na Yeon Choi. I love both players, either of them winning is awesome to me. So Yeon Ryu has a charm and a smile that lights up a room. Na Yeon Choi is just the coolest ever.

Korea resonance.

Once again just about two weeks between insomnia. Back-end insomnia the night before yesterday, and as sleep was normal last night, it might again have been a one-off.

There were mornings in the interim when I questioned whether I was having back-end insomnia, but no, now I'm clear that it's something obvious. After a certain amount of hours of sleep (three this time), waking up and that's it. No going back to sleep.

Mornings of multiple wakings and fading in and out, I won't consider insomnia. At least for now. They're a bummer, but not really that disruptive, relatively speaking.

For the record, several days prior, sleep had been deep and long. No intermittent waking up and 8 hours plus and prying myself out of bed. I am anticipating none of that for the next few days. Rather full nights sleep but catching up on feeling rested.

So I wrote that I'm not suffering from severe depression like Robin Williams and that I don't even consider myself depressed. After I wrote that, I was out and about and realized how problematic those statements are. They're not untrue, but they're definitely not true. Part of me even thought those statements ridiculous.

Looking at the totality of my life (which only I can do) and my life philosophy (what I express), I'm OK with the idea of the possibility that I have severe depression.

Severe depression doesn't necessarily mean being always down, and includes meaning profoundly down. Robin Williams appeared to be up a lot in public, and I don't think he was hiding anything, but his depression was profound. It wasn't about being up or down, but the "depression", whatever it is, was a kind that was very deeply ingrained.

"Whatever it is". It's not necessarily depression, which implies down. Maybe it's more of some life trauma that affects a person's life but doesn't manifest all the time. The trauma could've been an early event that tainted one's ability to see the world any other way.

If you believe in reincarnation and karma, it can be something that had "carried over". That explanation would be, conveniently, for people who could absolutely not identify something in this life that would qualify as the trauma.

If this is in any way accurate, who knows what it was for Robin Williams? For me, parts may be karmic, but just in this lifetime it's very easy to point to my upbringing as a source of "lifetime trauma". Along with whatever karma, my childhood experience developed into a worldview whose bottom line was I didn't want to be here.

It affected everything. I evolved and developed and learned, but fundamentally that worldview or personal view affected everything. A lot of rolling with the punches went along with remembering I don't even want to be here. Even to not living a normative life or getting married or raising a family goes back to that. 

I attribute my ability to say I'm not depressed to mindfulness practice. It also contributes to my appreciating being here (non-depressed perspective), all the while not wanting to be here (ground state).

I think in some ways, mindfulness practice can erase a lot of psychological considerations. I admit I considered myself a head case for many years. Mindfulness practice is training to not get caught up in psychology and the games the mind can play with oneself.

It trains you to constantly watch and gauge yourself and catch yourself when something doesn't make sense. With the added teachings of wisdom and compassion, you try to assess things unselfishly and if other people are involved, with their viewpoint in mind.

So for me, a lot of psychologically based reactions have gotten thrown out the window because I realize they're not based on wisdom and ultimately not what I want for myself or others.

Like being angry at my parents. I still get angry at them (psychology), but I don't react to it and I just watch my own anger (mindfulness). I know that reacting based on anger is not going to bring results I want. I don't care how angry I am or have been at them, I don't want them to suffer now because of something I say. Making them suffer is not going to contribute to my happiness.

Same with depression; how I can say I'm not depressed and then realize that's a problematic thing to say? The feeling can come up, but then instead of "getting depressed", getting caught up in it, I watch it and point my finger at it and identify it as depression, and the depression gets a little embarrassed and slinks back a bit knowing I caught it.

Mindfulness practice also works against habitual behavior which also has a psychological basis. I watch family members acting out of habit, caught up in habitual behavior, and I apply that to myself, too. I watch what I do and if it's something I'm having a doubt about, like buying something for example, I'll ask myself if I'm just buying it out of habit or not. Unfortunately, that's just scratching the surface. Habitual behavior I'm caught up in goes so deep I probably can't even recognize I'm stuck within it.

The rhetorical question in my mind is how did Robin Williams know it was time? Not to be naive, I'm not thinking it was a rational decision. Although it's possible, I imagine a larger consensus would agree that a lot of emotions, what we often refer to as "demons", were likely involved in his room and in his head that night.

But also not to be naïve, given his history and struggles with depression and substance abuse, it's possible that he has tried to commit suicide numerous times before. What went on that night earlier this week, was quite possibly not the first time a similar scenario played out, and might not even have meant to be a definitive, decisive event. 

Some reports say he was found unconscious, but then couldn't be revived, in which case it was a matter that he wasn't found in time. But whether he was found dead or unconscious, his reported M.O. doesn't suggest a definitive commitment to the act, but was perhaps allowing for an aura of the possibility of surviving. He didn't go out like Kurt Cobain. Goddammit, do I have to draw a picture?

Anyway, my particular launch point is the rhetorical question how did he know it was time to go? He lived with depression and substance dependency all his life. He survived for decades. He was public about it and what he was going through. Why couldn't he get through another bad night as he had presumably many times before?

It's a selfish rhetorical question. I'm only asking it for myself. How will I know when it's time to go? What did he know that I don't but hope to? It's a ridiculous rhetorical question, like I'm looking up to him for inspiration. I'm not.

I've always assumed I'm going to commit suicide. It's a given. My definition of suicide has even morphed to where it didn't matter how I died, I'd still consider it a suicide because of the way I view my existence.

But the ideal is that my death would be my decision and as such executed. But when? What I said about Robin Williams perhaps having an "aura of the possibility of surviving" is a projection. As is the speculation that due to the nature of his condition, he has tried many times before.

Both of those are more my reality and experience. Suicide has always been with me. I've never in my life said I would never commit suicide, and conversely I've always said I would. Granted, mostly to myself, ergo the lack of attention and the virtual isolation in which I currently live.

Of course, a difference between Robin Williams and me is that I'm not suffering from severe depression. As far as I'm concerned I'm not even depressed. And as much as I abuse alcohol, well that's another discussion.

As much as I abuse alcohol, alcohol doesn't abuse me! Bam. No other discussion!

You can put me in a therapist's chair for however long you want and we could banter about various and sundry subjects and I would get a clean bill of mental health. Until the suicide thing is mentioned, at which point I would be immediately diagnosed as depressed and prescribed medication. I didn't even need to mention it if my mental health was just being assessed.

For me, there just comes times in my life where the totality of things converge pointing to an attempt. That's how I know when, and so far I've always failed. So if I failed, was I wrong about when? And if I was wrong, should I not even have tried? I don't know, I don't give a fuck, that's not my rhetorical question.

Maybe Robin Williams' death was an accident. Maybe it was an act of personal expression and he thought perhaps he'd pull through in the morning. There are, I gather, many details in his M.O. that could have allowed him to survive. As with me there are always numerous built-in details that allow me to fail. And maybe I'm waiting for an accident that will allow me to succeed.

Nevertheless, there is no doubt in my mind even if there were an aura of a possibility of survival, he didn't mind dying. He took into consideration the pain he would cause to his family and millions of fans and admirers, but in the end, I don't think he minded.

I'm sad for me that he's gone, not for him.

Hm, the night before yesterday I had a bout of total insomnia exactly two weeks after the last one. Two weeks ago I mentioned almost two weeks without reportable insomnia. Yesterday's also might be a one-off as last night I was able to get to sleep and nothing remarkable about the morning.

I think I want to be looking more closely at the fucked-upness that entails after even one night of total insomnia for a chronic insomniac. One night's loss of sleep for a non-insomniac might not mean much. You deal for a short bit and then you recover. For a chronic insomniac, the effects of even one night can last more than a week.

By "chronic insomnia", I mean insomnia that isn't attributable to psychological reasons, the worst of which has been most recently treated by psychiatrists with CBT, cognitive behavioral therapy.

When I turned on the TV news today, there was a news scroll item at the bottom of the screen that I thought read "Robin Williams found..." before it scrolled to another item. Of course, the obvious word to fill in was "dead", and that idea was shocking.

So I waited for the scrolls to cycle around again, and indeed it was news of Robin Williams' death and indeed it was shocking. Mind you, "The Crazy Ones", Robin Williams' return to the small screen is currently airing in Taiwan. It makes his passing that much more unbelievable.

Then the rest of the scroll sank in, "Robin Williams found dead in apparent suicide". I'm not sure what to make of my reaction, which was, "well, of course". His battles with internal demons is well-known. It made sense and was even comforting that if he had to go, that he went true to himself.

Don't get me wrong, I'm sad. I've teared up. My thought was "this is the first day in a world without Robin Williams". That's how much of an impact on the world I felt he had. The world is a different place now. I felt it after 9/11, many people feel it after a loved one dies.

With Robin Williams, it was personal on a massive scale. Why? For me because he made me laugh. Every single time. Not only that gift he gave of making us laugh, but the kind of person he was. I wasn't like a die-hard fan that followed everything he did; a lot of things he did I ignored, a bunch of movies I didn't see. But whenever I paid attention, mostly not in acting roles but him as a person, there was never any indication that he wasn't genuine.

And because he was genuine and honest, we knew about his problems. He wasn't a celebrity train wreck that we can laugh at. He was really struggling with demons and he talked about them and he still made us laugh.

The shocking news that Robin Williams was found dead and the realization that even though he's a celebrity and has little to do with our daily lives, we as a culture for most part loved the man. He made us laugh from the gut. Laughter that was not only because of being clever, but primal laughter from not only from crazy talent but no doubt a reflection of his honesty to himself and his humanity.

An episode of "The Crazy Ones" aired soon after the news broke and I watched it. Robin Williams recently instagrammed a photo of him and his daughter when she was a child. I noticed that photo was on the set of "The Crazy Ones" in his office.

Total insomnia last night. Not bad, almost two weeks without reportable insomnia. Sleep hasn't always been great; there have been frequent incidents of fragile sleeplessness on both front or back-end, but not rising to insomnia. Even though that kind of sleep meant not getting a good rest and fatigue usually in the evening.

Last night, already exhausted and nodding off all night, I put on a CD with the timer set, as usual, extended the time as I continued to remain awake, and when the entire CD played, that's when it's officially insomnia. So then I put on one of my yearly mix CDs, which at least makes sleeplessness enjoyable as those songs include songs I love and never get sick of.

I might have been able to fall asleep during that CD and slept the rest of the way, making it only front-end insomnia. Except for the dream.

Upon reviewing the tracks later, I found that I did fall asleep for 2 tracks, but I remember the tracks that were playing when I went into the dream, so I was in a twilight state at that time.

There's a bit of insignificant precursor before it became The Dream. A portion that looked like a gas filling station before dawn. A portion there where I was wondering if my music was playing too loud and disturbing my non-dream neighbors here, being concerned because it looked in the dream like I was blasting the music.

Then I was in a suburban house, an offshoot or morph of the gas station, during daytime in a sparsely furnished den or family room. I was making a round of the room when I ran into some spider webs. There was a large pillow on the floor so I dropped down on it to wipe off the webs.

When I got up, I realized the pillow was quite dirty and I had all these specks in front of my face and thought I might need to jump into the shower. But I soon realized a bunch of the specks were baby spiders and looking closely at the pillow, it was covered with baby spiders.

That's when things quickly escalated and the spiders started growing in number until they were a seething swarm of frenzied spiders of all different sorts carpeting the floor. Then there were other people who I don't know, but it felt like we were renting the house together.

Someone got the idea to burn the furniture that the spiders were on and a fire was started and I yelled at them to do it outside, especially when I noticed a bunch of car tires on the pyre that was quickly becoming an inferno.

I stepped out of the room just as another housemate was arriving wondering what was going on and I encouraged him to tell the others to put the fire out and to take the fire extinguisher with him. I was pro-put out the fire, but in retrospect I realize the ONLY solution to the problem was to burn down the house. Burn it. Burn it down.

When I stepped back into the room, the fire had been extinguished but the spider problem remained. They weren't crawling over us, but they were still a seething mass and any object that had been on the floor were now riding on top of the mass as if on waves.

The spiders were aware of us, and when someone poked a stick at the mass, they reacted. There were so many it was impossible to move anything without killing them. The dream ended with me asking one of the housemates, "You know I'm afraid of spiders, right?", and him almost sarcastically answering, "Yes, I know. If there's anything I know about you, it's that".

Upon waking, my thought was, "I'll take the insomnia".

So I lay awake for several more hours, first listening to another mix CD and then a lecture on Tibetan Buddhism by Robert Thurman. Then same as last time, instead of getting up close to 9 o'clock, I tried to drift into twilight sleep and see if I could investigate dreams in that state.

At one point, I do remember in a dream thinking that I was in a dream, so that was successful from a lucid dream perspective, but the nature of the dreams became totally bizarre and hostile. It was almost as if my unconscious was testing me after realizing I was in my own dream.

I don't remember them clearly enough to relate, but enough impressions to recall that scene after scene, I found myself amidst hostile people, trying to maintain calm. Actually, as I just wrote "amidst hostile people", I remembered that is a projected experience in the Tibetan-described bardo death experience.

Not suggesting it's objective, as my subconscious could be projecting what I'd read in the Tibetan Book of the Dead. I do know that in the dream I never reminded myself that this was all projections from my own mind of reality, as the book suggests training towards.

Since last Tuesday's bout of total insomnia, which turns out was a one-off, sleep has been good. Full nights sleep; although the effects of that one-off insomnia episode may have had continuing effects of fatigue during waking hours.

Then last night's sleep was interrupted by a nasty bout of back-end insomnia. Went to sleep alright but then woke up and couldn't get back to sleep.

Although interesting was that at 9 o'clock, when I should have gotten up and proceeded with sitting, I continued to try to get some sleep. I couldn't quite get to sleep, but I would fade into a twilight sleep where I could dream, and the dreams were totally bizarre. My brothers figured into many of them although that's all I can remember about them.

It made me think that back-end insomnia may be an opportunity to explore that more – trying to get into that shallow dream state where I'm experiencing dreams but slightly aware that I'm not fully asleep and trying to turn it into a lucid dream.

I've been working out at the gym regularly, so it's not about physical fatigue. I should be sufficiently tired to get to sleep. But not.

Redefining a "total insomnia" night, it's not necessarily not being able to get to sleep at all, but also includes a night of both front-end and back-end insomnia. Last night I consider total insomnia.

It was more than the scare I had a couple nights ago. It manifested ultimately in a long period of time laying in bed listening to music, having turned off the sleep timer. I did eventually fall asleep, but at what point I have no idea.

Then after 6 o'clock, after two and a half, three maybe hours of sleep, I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep at all and listened to CDs in their entirety. Back-end insomnia. Both of them equal total insomnia.

Since this is the first night of insomnia for this bout, if it turns out to be a bout, I was alright after getting up. Actually I didn't do what I've said I should've done, which is once 9 o'clock comes around, get up and do morning sitting.

At 9, I still lay on my bed seeing if sleep would come and for two hours, every twenty minutes or so I would wake up from a dream, having fallen into a shallow sleep.

I'm not sure if those two hours were restful, but I ended going on a 35 mile ride and was fine, except for the heat. It was really, really hot again and by the end of the ride I was really struggling. When I got home I focused on getting my core temperature down, and accomplishing that, I was fine. The effects of insomnia are cumulative, though, so that's no surprise.

Had a front-end insomnia scare last night with difficulty getting to sleep, but then I was able to; and then a back-end insomnia scare with multiple awakenings. Ultimately, I'm declaring it was an acceptable sleep. Less than six hours, which is not great, but the ultimate symptoms of insomnia weren't present.

The weather forecast today indicated it wasn't supposed to rain. There's a typhoon that's not going to hit Taiwan, but will brush by it and I think it's affecting the atmosphere and hopefully disrupting the weather patterns of the past two months.

Anyway, I went out for a ride aiming to complete the 36-mile ride I tried on Thursday. And yes, heat was probably the main factor in failing. Today was a more reasonable Taipei summer heat and I completed it without issue.

Today was forecast to not rain, and even though the rain is supposed to return tomorrow and for the forecast future, I decided to go out on my bike just to see how it felt. I figured with going to the gym, my fitness should be pretty good and I contemplated doing two small climbs to end up in Shenkeng and stopping for stinky tofu and then either a third climb to come home for a 30 mile ride, or take the riverside bikeways home for a 40 mile ride.

Instead, I decided to do my default 32 mile bikeway ride with a 4 mile extension, which is all flat. This default ride is the one I do to check my fitness after long periods of time off bike. When I committed to start riding again at the end of last year, that's all I did for a while. It did feel good being back on my bike, but very quickly I knew I wasn't up for anything. I wasn't going 30 miles, much less with the extension. Those hills were out of the question. I settled for cutting the ride short to a 20 miler and getting home intact.

It did occur to me that even with regular workouts at the gym, none of that compares with the real thing; going out and doing something that can be considered sport. But in retrospect, I think what might have beat me down was the midday heat. It was hot and I knew it. I don't think my GPS has a temperature sensor, but the Garmin ride data includes temperature, which might come from internet sources(?), and the average temperature for the ride is 95 degrees! Significantly hotter than anything I've ridden in in recent memory. Anyway, I'll go back to my policy of riding any day the weather permits, even if it's just one day in a two week period.

I mentioned before that on high school track, my coach noted that I ran the 110m hurdles faster than the 100m sprint. At the time I actually did realize a reason for that. It was desperation. When trained for the 110m hurdles, I was taught that between each hurdle were three steps plus the landing step (or take off step depending how you look at it). So feet hit the ground four times between each hurdle. This was not easy for me. It required a vast stretch in stride to accomplish. And this is going to sound ridiculous if it even makes any sense, but the only way I could complete the race was by hearing the rhythm of that famous piece in "Carmen" in my steps. Doing hurdles for me was "bum-badum-dum/bum-badum-dum/bum-badum-dum...". And in desperation to keep that rhythm, I had to push myself which in the end decreased my time. True story.

Sleep went back to normal exactly one week ago. Every night since has been considered "good". I'm recording this as data to see if insomnia comes and goes in spells and bouts. A good night includes waking up multiple times before my goal (9 a.m. alarm) but being able to fall back to sleep. I also mention as significant that evening fatigue regularly set in, sometimes requiring short naps.

It's now July. The last ride I went on was on April 28. It pretty much rained ALL OF MAY. And then surprisingly it rained ALL OF JUNE. It's raining today.

I could probably count on one hand the number of days that were forecast not to rain and didn't rain. Not enough to establish a pattern of riding. I think I mentioned it's not worth it to get out on a one non-rainy day when thunderstorms are forecast for the next five days.

And that's why I joined World Gym on May 19. I was expecting, with my luck, that I would sign up for the gym, a two-year commitment, and then the sun would come right out. Not so.

The gym has been great. Relatively speaking; my calves are still giving me problems. I'm careful to avoid a major pull, but whenever I try to push them, they get to that point where if I keep going, it will pull and I have to ease off.

Only a few times have I managed slow 30 minute jogs, 3 miles/10 min. miles, before coming close to injury. Then I would try breaking it up and jogging 3 single miles separately, each at about 12 min. miles and just trying not to injure the calf. In fear of making the cow mad.

(Why do they call it PMS? Because "mad cow disease" was already taken)

Otherwise, I fulfill cardio on the elliptical, and do a 30-min. workout where my heartrate gets to where it does when I'm running, which is above 160 bpm. Basically go as hard as I can at any given point while gauging how much more I have to go.

I also do weights and I'm recalling all the way back to high school track how to use the machines. I haven't been in a weight room since then, and I'm surprised I still remember the basics. We didn't do weights often, only when it was raining too hard to run outside, and I don't remember really liking it. I think I would have preferred to go home rather than do weights.

I was a hurdler on high school track, 110 and 400 meter. I think I was sometimes included in 400 meter relays (4x100m), second or third runner (the slow legs), never lead or anchor, but the coach thought it was odd that I could do hurdles faster than outright sprints. Coach Krauthamer droned, "Mr. Li, your 110 hurdles time is faster than your 100 meters". Hurdles it was!

There are also punching bags, and I might get to applying college Tae Kwon Do on them if it's not too embarrassing.

random post: coffee

I'm no longer addicted to caffeine and don't really need it, but I bought a bag of beans yesterday and I think I may have found my proper way to pour a cup of coffee using a filter cone.

I've been experimenting for years trying to come up with a consistently good (to me, that's why I say my proper way) cup of coffee. I've even searched on the web to see how other people do it and either it's super-anal techniques that no normal person in their right mind would pay attention to, or nimrods who post the most obvious, derp-city way to use a filter cone that even a monkey could figure out.

Experiment factors include grind (how long to grind), water temp (how long to let it cool), and how to pour. There's a lot to personal taste, so how long to grind and water temp is an individual preference. I grind for 10-15 seconds, and let water cool for a minute.

The pour, I think, is the key and that's with what I've been experimenting. My way is don't saturate the grind right away. I do a quick, short line pour that just introduces the water to part of the grind and for what that's worth, let it soak in for a few seconds; it's not enough to even start a drip. Then a second line pour with the same intent, not necessarily enough to drip, but just soak whatever grind it hits.

Then after another few seconds of letting that soak and settle, do a circular pulse pour that will likely cover the rest of the grind and instigate the drip if it hasn't already. From then, I add water gradually by pouring along the rims of the grind, never right onto the center of the grind, and each time letting the coffee drip out some (never completely) before adding more water. As the grind is saturated, it will take longer for coffee to drip out and so the water level will rise in the cone, but what I find works is keep the water level down as much as possible at first.

And it should foam naturally this way. I vaguely recall from way back someone recommending something about how much the grinds should foam. That kinda makes sense to me, not knowing the science, because it seems it might have something to do with aerating the grind which might have some beneficial effect on the "extraction".

I note that my way goes against other people's advice that the grind should be saturated immediately. I've tried that and I like the taste of my way better. If I were to get zen philosophical parody about it, my initial, non-saturating line pours are like getting the grind's attention and telling it "you are about to become coffee, breathe and smile", as opposed to just drowning the grind in complete saturation.

Also with my way, at the end of the drip, the grinds shouldn't be deposited high and thin on the filter, as with many coffee makers, but concentrated relatively low, which might make sense for good extraction, but again I don't know the science.

I think the key is hearing how other people do it, try it, experiment with variables and then if you're consistently quoting Harrison Ford saying, "Now that's good coffee!" (Witness), bam.

Yesterday ended up being another disaster of sorts. After watching Michelle Wie triumphantly win the U.S. Open, all during which I was self-medicating the insomnia, I went right to sleep from 6 to noon.

It's odd, I always drink all night right until I go to sleep, and that has little effect on how I am when I get up. But when insomnia is involved, I'm always groggy and fucked up after getting up, no matter how long I've been sleeping. That's why one of my general guidelines is no alcohol during insomnia.

I know that if people were studying my case, they would say it's about the alcohol. Even if I'd been drinking all night before going to sleep, then awoke because of insomnia and continued to drink, they'd say it's the increased amount of alcohol that fucks me up.

And I would say they're wrong. It's not the alcohol per se, but primarily the insomnia with alcohol as a contributing factor. They wouldn't get that and that's why the medical profession is so ineffective regarding this type of insomnia. For instance, if it wasn't an insomnia night but I just happened to wake up a few hours into sleep and decide to chuck back a couple shots and crawl back into bed, I'd be fine when I woke up in the morning. 

In fact, if I'm remembering correctly, I went to sleep at around 1, early for me but I was tired from the weekend, and slept for two hours before waking up at a little after 3 and felt lucid and sober. And it was because of the U.S. Open that I didn't even try to go back to sleep, maybe it could have been a good night's sleep. But then because I was up and doing something, I allowed for drinking.

I already know that going to the gym after insomnia is a bad idea, but I went yesterday and confirmed it. But it was weird because my calf muscle pulled exactly as I stepped in the door. Literally, I took one step in, felt the muscle pull, and stepped back out. I spent the next 15 minutes limping around the area deciding what to do.

I ended up going in with it in mind to lay off the calves, meaning elliptical is OK, no treadmill or stairmaster. But during weights, I realized I was too tired and left after only an hour, my shortest time at the gym.

The calf hurt for the rest of the day and I couldn't even cover up the limp. But it also occurred to me that I should be bracing my calves. Actually that was inspired by Michelle Wie who was crazy using what I learned from the broadcast as "physio tape", but found online is properly called "kinesio tape".

I might look for the stuff in Taiwan. I'd be surprised if doesn't exist here, but I'm not sure where to find it. But I did pull out a knee brace that I brought from the U.S. which can be used on calves, and if that's effective and if there's a need, I can buy another one for my other leg.

This should be interesting (albeit only to me). Sleep this weekend was good. Saturday was sufficient but too heavy in the end for sitting, but Sunday was also good and I got back to sitting. Still, for the rest of the day I wasn't able to break out of a general lethargy and deliberately cancelled going to the gym, considering it a good day for a break since Saturday was hard on my calves.

Right now, instead of battling what may have become a bout of back-end insomnia, knowing the U.S. Women's Golf Open was airing live, I'm forgoing trying to sleep and watching TV, pulling for Michelle Wie. I won't say much about that. I started watching LPGA golf during my years of torpor. Another inexplicable interest except to note that South Korean women have been doing really well in the field.

I know Michelle Wie is American, but she'll do. She has a lot of support from American fans of all stripes, but I'm sure there's a percentage of people who would prefer to see Stacy Lewis, a "real" American, win. I recognize that Stacy Lewis is currently the world number one and she will probably go down in history as one of the greats, but from hearing her talk, I think she might be unconsciously racist, no evidence of it being overt, I don't think she's aware of it or trying to be, but enough to make me love to see her lose or fail (my loving to see her lose is not begrudging her from being the champion she is). I'm sure none of her peers think she's racist. You have to be looking for it.

I'm still having trouble with my calves trying to build my running back up. After pulling a calf muscle a week after joining the gym, a month later, I'm still struggling to complete 3 miles at any pace without injury. Both calves are problematic, and I've been easing off runs on the treadmill at the first sign of trouble.

I'm not sure what the issue is, since even after not running for so long, calves are still important for cycling, so I don't know why they are this problematic going back to running. It seems I'll need a more gradual slope of improvement to build strength up in those muscles. But seriously, 10-minute miles are depressingly slow.

insomnia diaries

Yea, even for me, that "ignore the effects of insomnia" policy isn't always possible. And I can only have that policy nominally because I can afford to. People who have to function and deal with the world can't even pretend to.

And note to self: going to the gym after a night of insomnia is probably not the smartest thing in the world. In a word, yesterday can be described as being "bad", although I'm not so much into the "good"-"bad" judgy thing. Things just are.

That being said, mindfulness practice does come into play in that I don't see myself as a victim of an affliction. Something "bad" is happening but I just observe it and my reaction and don't make it personal or get emotional about it. At worst, things are just "interesting". i.e., oh this is not good, I think I need to get home asap . . . how interesting.

The effects of insomnia do feel like an illness. There's a definite short circuit in mental capacity; I remember that from that time I was working at the Post and my boss came up to me and told me he called two other people to come in to cover for me and that I should go home. I was like, "why?!". I thought I was functioning fine when it was clear I wasn't. And, mind you, he told me this right after I had come out from the bathroom where I had been hyperventilating.

As for working out, it's stupid because, again, there are mental lapses of grandeur thinking I can do what I clearly can't and run the risk of injury. Aside from that, physical weakness manifests where a perfectly reasonable weight resistance workout ends up in unreasonable soreness, as if I had just started working out.

As for today, last night was a recovery dead-sleep and I got a full night sleep but then had trouble getting up and cancelled morning sitting. I didn't go to the gym and was pretty much zombified and wiped out. Exhaustion came easily.

insomnia diaries

Yesterday I erroneously, optimistically thought I was in the clear regarding this latest bout of insomnia and it was over. I got a solid seven hours of sleep and was mostly fine afterwards with just hints of zombification. Per personal policy, I didn't think or worry about it and went through my day including going to the gym.

Then last night I got smacked by a nasty, back-end insomnia. Slept from 2 to 4, and then from 4 to 7:30 was in a twilight state, fading in and out, getting up occasionally to reset the fan timer or start up music again. At 7:30 I put on one of my mix CDs and listened to the whole thing lying in bed and got out of bed afterwards, as it was close to 9. Considered sitting, but ultimately cancelled.

What I was being optimistic about was that the insomnia from the weekend was a one-off, rather than a spell. One-offs happen and don't have any lasting effect. Spells are prolonged periods and are what fuck chronic insomniacs up.

Per policy, my attitude for the day is to totally ignore any effects. If I get tired and have to crash, it's because I'm tired and have to nap. No harping about being exhausted or zombified. Even gym, but I'll intend to go easy since exertion in a fatigued state probably contributes to injury.