Shaved Meats, Piled High: December 2021
Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?
A year ago this month, I resolved to walk five miles a day. Some context: My life, pre-pandemic, generally yielded 3-4 miles of daily walking without any conscious effort. I walked my daughter to school, I walked to a coffee shop to work, I did errands. Once the pandemic hit, I had to make a concerted effort to walk 3.5 miles a day, rising early and heading out before the virtual school day began.
But I like the idea of what I call push goals, things that require a little conscious effort. I decided I wanted to average 5 miles a day. Spoiler alert: I did it. As of Dec. 1, 2021, I have average 5.5 miles a day walking, 12,000-plus steps. These are “real” steps, for the most part, measured by my phone, which means the incidental steps of my life are seldom measured. These are big steps, often as much as 35-39 inches, on the relatively flat terrain of South Baltimore. Three of those miles are usually taken at dawn; I pick up the balance with errands, the occasional sunset walk. I take photographs, usually (but not always) of the Domino Sugars sign, then post them to Twitter. It is, in a sense, a writing exercise, a creative prompt that starts the day. Take photos. Select photo. Crop photo. (But almost never filter.) Say something -- a line of poetry, a joke, a literary illusion. Then Tweet.
To average 5.5 miles a day over a year, you do not need to walk 5.5 miles every day. Looking back over my stats, I fell short of 5 miles at least 20-30 times. But some days – especially when I have therapy, which I do on the phone in an isolated ball field area near my house – I walk a lot more, as much as 9 or 10 miles. Inevitably, there were factors outside my control, such as weather and travel days, but not as many as one might think. In the extreme heat of summer, I channeled my grandfather, one of the original mall walkers, and trotted around the eerily desolate Marley Station, which has the advantage of proximity to Ann’s Dari-Crème and one of the few Arby’s in the metropolitan area, whose mozzarella sticks I love. What about winters? The cold never bothered me anyway, but rain did. I hate walking in the rain.
In that same year, I finished a novella for a collection of stories that William Morrow will publish on Jan. 4, Seasonal Work. I also have been working on a novel, one that feels more challenging than any I have written to date, but I think each one feels that way -- and should. While I was amassing my miles – almost enough to make it to Salt Lake City from Baltimore – I also was amassing words. I have about 75,000 now, close to completion, but I’m still circling them, going over them, making sure they’re the right words in the right order. The book takes place over about a year, starting in the fall of 2019 and ending in early 2021. It is, inevitably, a book where the pandemic features, but it’s not about the pandemic. It’s about redemption – what it is, who gets it, who deserves it. (The last two are not always the same.)
Oh, I also continue to put on nice clothes every day and my pandemic nesting project has been my closet, which I've gussied up with new carpet, new blinds, and a new vanity that was delayed by supply chain issues for only four months. I may never leave.
Anyway, with a new year looming, why not forgo resolutions and think, instead, about push goals, small things you can do every day that require just a little bit of extra effort.
Read/Reading: What Just Happened, Charles Finch; Oh William!, Elizabeth Strout; Fly Girl, Ann Hood.
Re-Reading: A Dangerous Woman, Mary McGarry Morris
Me, Me, Me: Dream Girl has shown up on several best-of-2021 lists, including The Washington Post and NPR. Meanwhile, Publishers Weekly had a nice review of Seasonal Work, while Library Journal called the collection "delightful" in a starred review. It also is an Indie Next pick for January.
Laura Lippman