7 Aug 2013

Workout: couldn’t sleep so worked out at 2:00 AM: 10 minutes supine weights and cycling/free dance, then 50 lowrise steps, consisting of 25 right leg and 25 left leg. No excess pain when lifting left leg or using same to push off, but only fifty of these bad boys proved to be stressful and exhausting at my level of “fitness”. Then remaining time was spent in air-conducting the last movement of Beethoven’s Third Symphony.

Workout plan: seven days first thing with increasing steps, five days physio when facility available at 20 minutes/day, osteo/occupational when therapist commands.

Physio: at about 10 AM, did 20 minutes on the rackety row as always, with the rackety row set to level 2. Discovered its Yum Cha feature: the intensity goes up in a smooth curve and seems to max out at a point where up to now, since last winter, I was quitting. But if you punch thru saying YUM you get to CHA, for the intensity drops off and then goes to infinity for it’s there you hit the physical bound of the machine.

Drive past YUM and yell CHA to hit this point and return to the start at negative effort and constant speed, and repeat for a “century” (about 100 reps) and one will feel ragged and torn yet refreshed. Unable to do a century, I alternated YumCha decades (ten YumCha strokes) with decades using weights and hand motions only (call these last air motions TaiChi decades with the memory of resistance and its fact). The lighter centuries (no YumCha, and/or hand motions only) predominated. Nonetheless felt very satisfied and slightly ill at the finish.

Screen Shot 2013-08-07 at 10.46.33 AM
Edward G. Nilges, “Study of Left and Right Foot for Tracking State”, pencil and pen with computer (Mac Preview) modifications, A4 size original, Copyright 7 Aug 2013 Edward G. Nilges: Moral Rights Asserted

Cue tooty-fruity MittelEuropische accented voice

The Incomprehensible Maestro…

…was tied to the backstage wall by his sons, Max undt Moritz and raised to enable him to conduct the Third Symphony of Ludwig van Beethoven. When the audience beheld the initial visual effect there was much well-bred laughter and bejeweled, gloved hands of the aristocracy held to hide the smiles, for the Maestro, this man whose great suffering gave him such dignity ordinarily, looked to the unfeeling aristo mob like a great trapped insect, waving his arms undt legs helplessly.

But when the great Maestro tapped his baton imperiously for silence it was as if the voice of the thief of Europe, Napoleon, had once again been heard, and when the first imperious chords of Beethoven’s symphony, dedicated to Napoleon and then revoked, rang out, there was silence as the fat Maestro was somehow transformed into Prometheus, who taught with Pandora the children of men to dance.

And in the back of the hall, the crippled, from wartime injuries or accidents or disease it mattered not, admitted by the Maestro’s command to the standing section, did stand. They stood despite their agony to show their respect for the ideals espoused by this music, of freedom, equality and brotherhood. The tubercular, the cancerous, the injured. They stood, do you understand me?


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