Two weeks to get in shape for The Journey. I may have set six month, three month, one month deadlines for launching a plan to become super-healthy before I travel. Okay, so they didn’t work out. Think what I can do in two weeks however.
Fourteen days. Six visits to gym for abs class and at least half an hour on the machines. Ten morning walks, one to 1 ½ hours each. A heart transplant…
Find a primary care physician who will give me a recommendation so I can get in to see a UNM gastroenterologist before I leave—Not Going to Happen. That’s okay, I’ve mostly fixed stomach issues myself. But I may not be able to sample the milk vodka in Mongolia. Unless it’s at lunch with the sheep’s eyes on a bed of kale sprinkled ever so lightly with candied rutabaga.
Actually at least half the countries through which I’m traveling have better healthcare systems than the U.S. so I can probably get in to see a doctor in Norway or Sweden or Latvia, China or South Korea much quicker than here. And, actually, ALL of the countries I’m traveling through, with the possible exception of Russia, have less gun violence than the U.S. so my odds of needing a doctor to stem bleeding and related symptoms are less anyway.
What else for health. Does a haircut count? And be sure and take my most comfy, though rather ugly, sneakers. In an hour or so I am off to REI to find a super light and soft and blanket-like big fat hoodie for airlines and Mongolia. I refuse to wear the one that says Washington DC for one single more trip; we’ve been together eight years or so. Enough.
Morning walk was, as always, amazing. Down along the river in the thick bosque brush on leisurely Sunday mornings. Perfect. Met a gorgeous dog whose bird-watching companion said he found her several years ago as a tiny puppy, almost dead, tied to a tree in the bosque. A happy Sunday morning story, much more inspiring than any sermon I was ever subjected to as an already-disbelieving child.