There are several LASIK eye surgery benefits, which can be easily realized by going in for an experienced eye surgeon. It is necessary that you weigh the pros and cons before going in for an eye surgery. And much to your relief, as far as LASIK eye surgery is concerned, the benefits far outweigh whatever minimal risk is involved. LASIK eye surgery is by far the most preferred procedure when it comes to eye corrective surgery. LASIK eye surgery benefits typically include:
- Clear natural vision - Need for glasses or contact lenses is eliminated - It simply widens the horizon for recreational opportunities - Quality of vision is better than that with glasses or contact lenses - Greater self-confidence - More career opportunities - Enhanced natural appearance – in many cases - No risk of infection or inflammation generally associated with contact lens overuse
To read more about Lasik Eye Surgery, please visit http://www.chinatownconnection.com/lasik-eye-surgery.htm.
Ave Robinson's stories:
There are several LASIK eye surgery benefits, which can be easily realized by going in for an experienced eye surgeon. It is necessary that you weigh the pros and cons before going in for an eye surgery. And much to your relief, as far as LASIK eye surgery is concerned, the benefits far outweigh whatever minimal risk is involved. LASIK eye surgery is by far the most preferred procedure when it comes to eye corrective surgery. LASIK eye surgery benefits typically include:
- Clear natural vision - Need for glasses or contact lenses is eliminated - It simply widens the horizon for recreational opportunities - Quality of vision is better than that with glasses or contact lenses - Greater self-confidence - More career opportunities - Enhanced natural appearance – in many cases - No risk of infection or inflammation generally associated with contact lens overuse
To read more about Lasik Eye Surgery, please visit http://www.chinatownconnection.com/lasik-eye-surgery.htm.
This morning, at 8:30am, I did something that I haven’t done since I was on the rowing team in grad school (many years ago): I went for a run. I’ve never liked running. They made us do it in junior high—three times around the Capitol Hill (Seattle) reservoir was a mile. As soon as I was out of view of the gym teacher, I’d break into a walk. My best time was a ten-minute mile.
Other sports, I liked. Basketball, softball, swimming, soccer. I had a basketball hoop on the side of my carport when I was in grade school. I played on a softball team in the fourth grade and I still play on one. As a kid, I rode my bike everywhere and didn’t even mind the big hills. I went (admittedly, complainingly) on many hikes with my parents. I took ballet when I was very young and again after I graduated from college. I tagged along to Mom’s yoga and tai chi classes; I still take yoga classes frequently. One exception is gymnastics—I could never get the hang of the cartwheel or most anything beyond a somersault. But more than that, I hated running.
When I started rowing at Chapel Hill, I started running. Land practice was two or three times a week. Land practice meant running. The first year I was on the team, all we ever did was run. The next year, the coach introduced some weight lifting, which I liked, but we still kept running. I was never able to run the full route. I’d always walk part of it, though less and less as time went on. But the further I ran, the more my right knee hurt. I decided that if it were still bothering me after the next run, I’d go see the doctor. The very next time I ran, I completed the route without a break. My knee hurt more than it had ever hurt before
I kept my promise to myself and went to see the sports medicine doctor. He diagnosed me with “patella tracking syndrome” aka “runner’s knee.” Basically, my exceptionally mobile kneecap (patella) was rubbing the tissue underneath it and causing inflammation. My tight iliotibial (IT) band, which stretches from the top of the hip to the outside of the knee, was pulling at the kneecap, causing it to torque and also contributing to the pain. The advice was to take heavy-duty anti-inflammatories and start physical therapy. And to ice after every practice. The coach gave me gym workouts to substitute for running and that was the end of my running career.
A few weeks ago, thinking about my upcoming trip to the West Coast, I worried about missing two weeks on the water. I don’t want to lose the fitness gains I’ve amassed and I want to get right back into the boat when I come home. I won’t have access to a gym while I’m away. And walking won’t be sufficient. Push-ups, sit-ups, sure, I can do that stuff and maybe work on some knee-strength building—but the cardiovascular work is what I’m really going to miss.
That’s when I realized the only thing to do was run. Two weeks ago I bought a good quality pair of running shoes. They sat in the box for a week. I wore them around the neighborhood last Sunday. Today, I took a ten-minute run. I interspersed it with a few minutes of walking, but it was more running than walking. I’m not saying it went well or that I enjoyed it. But I will do it while I’m gone.
I’ve been icing for a few weeks already. Every night when I get home from practice, I fix a quick supper then set myself up in front of the tv with ice pads on both knees and a third draped across my right shoulder. I feel like I’m falling apart—but I also feel good. This week, I was much less exhausted than the last two weeks. I am sure I’m making progress. The regatta was nerve wracking, but also enjoyable.
These next two weeks will be a test for me, since running is one of my least favorite things to do. I may not get the run in every day—but hopefully I will. What with the time difference, I’ll be up early and I can fit in ten or fifteen minutes most days. I also hope that time off the water will help my shoulder heal. I think I have a pinched nerve in my neck and it needs serious rest. This down time will be good for me, if I have anything to say about it.
Grateful for: a running break.
PS I have almost finished the Stella story and I will post soon. In the meantime, I’m hoping that Pele will provide the guest post she is considering (nudge, nudge), which would actually be about dating! We can hope.
The Museum of Modern Art, 11 West 53 Street, between Fifth and Sixth avenues. New York, NY 10019-5497
Some guy I know with [an] Andy Warhol Paul Gauguin, click to enlarge click to enlarge Otto Prutscher Wine Goblets, click to enlarge Andy Warhol’s Campbell’s Soups, click to enlarge What kind of food has Salvador Dali placed on this woman’s head, and around her neck? Click to find out.
Links, Resources and Further Reading
MoMa | Website
My favourite find | Artist Vija Celmins
Vija Celmins “To Fix The Image in Memory”
| Archive Alert! This weekend last year: Can the English Make Champagne? |
In my real life. Decided to save the writing for books. The connections for “real” people. The outrage for action. The joy for home. Need quiet for sanity. Need sanity for health. Need time for everything, but most of all my family.
Hope you understand.
People who use computers to communicate, form friendships that sometimes form the basis of communities, but you have to be careful to not mistake the tool for the task and think that just writing words on a screen is the same thing as real community.
- Harold Rheingold.
How did it go? Great! I finished each race, which is the point. Ok, it went a little better than that.
When I arrived, later than I planned, most of my group was there. We had a bit of a scare because it looked like one of the women in my four was a no show. She did arrive in what turned out to be plenty of time, pleading “traffic.” Chatting with my boat-mates before the race, while we were waiting for our no show, I learned their ages. Stroke: 39. She looks younger, but 39 is believable. Three seat: 48. When I heard that I said, “no shit!” That provoked a smirk on her part and I said, “There’s no way I would have guess you were older than me. No way.” Then me, two seat: 37. (Bow is 27 and she looks younger too.) We all talked about how young the others looked and the stroke said, “It’s because we all work out.” I demurred, because even though I was going to the gym regularly before I started rowing, I’m not exactly in super-duper shape. She added, “You have great skin.” It was just a big ol’ compliment-fest.
The race itself was not the greatest. Our row wasn’t bad, but we finished a couple of boat lengths behind our competition and that’s not a good feeling. Bow was pretty pissed about it, but I recovered quickly. There was a very strong crosswind and it made it hard to row, especially in a four. It wasn’t the worst row ever, but it was very hard.
My second race, a couple of hours later, was much better. As has always been my experience, the second race of the day is better than the first. Also, since the second race was in an eight, it went faster. We didn’t win, but we came in second in a four boat heat. We lost to our club’s competitive group, but beat the AM club (we are the PM club). Beating the AMs confers serious bragging rights.
It was a great row. Conditions were lousy—the crosswind was stronger than ever. It was hard to find our “point” (the spot our bow needs to point towards so we can steer a straight course). Our start was not spectacular. But we rowed a great race. The woman who sat behind me in bow in the four sat behind me again in the eight (this time we were 6 and 5). The two of us were huffing and puffing and grunting and groaning. Part of my problem in the four was that I couldn’t catch my breath after the halfway point. In the eight, I did a better job of breathing and was able to get more pressure on my legs. We worked damn hard. Towards the end of the race, I started to feel tingly all over and I got a little light headed. It was almost a minute after the race ended before I could speak. When I did, I shouted, “Good job!” Everyone agreed.
That was a good way to start the season.
After the regatta wrapped up, I decided I wanted a beer, burger and fries. There is a party later, but I was pretty sure I’d skip it (I’m skipping it right now). I biked from the boathouse to a bar near my place. At 5pm it was full of hipster-cool folks and it seemed like something was going on. I heard someone say “scooter” and I walked out the back door and stumbled upon a sea of Vespas, old and new, in lovely, restored condition. I owned a ‘62 Vespa back when I lived in Seattle. (It looked exactly like this, except it was painted a bright, ugly yellow and had no rear rack.) I went on scooter rallys and had a group of scooter friends. It was so peculiar stumbling into this group of scooter people—they used to be my people.
I struck up a conversation with a young woman and she told me they’d taken a forty-mile tour of DC. I told her some of my scooter history and shared a little more when her husband showed up, including a story of how I repaired my scooter, “I just used the Haynes manual and followed the instructions.”
He said, “I didn’t know there was a Haynes for Vespas.”
“Oh yes. When I sold the scooter, I kept the manual. I told the guy, ‘I’ll make you a photocopy, but I’m keeping it.’” I still have it. Just in case.
I probably talked a little too much (I blame the exhaustion), but how often do I get to talk about scooters these days? After taking a long look at the pretty old and new Vespas and a couple of rare Lambrettas, I went back inside the bar and had my burger, beer and fries.
And that was a good way to end the day.
Grateful for: coincidence.Drop me a line.
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