Tuesday, March 4, 2008

Half-Hearted


Liguria Bakery

Days 18 and 19
Neighborhoods Covered: Financial District, North Beach, Telegraph Hill
Streets Completed: Halleck, Child, Edgardo, Edith, Pardee (Jack Micheline Place), Kramer, Gerke, Harwood (Bob Kaufman Place), Medau, Krausegrill, Telegraph Place

I disagree with the Bond film. The world is not enough? Really? Maybe for James Bond, but for most of us I think it's just plenty, thanks, and some days perhaps a touch excessive. The past two days have sort of felt like that for me.

Yesterday I just felt sort of tired and heavy, and although I managed to function well enough, my walking was limited to the well-worn path between home and garage, and then back from Josh's after we did some work. By the time I left his house it was dark and I wanted nothing more than to be off my feet, so I didn't even attempt a new sliver of Minna or an additional block of 8th Street.

Today my head started to explode with what's either a proto-cold or serious allergies, leaving me feeling leaden and weary and, as a bonus, beholden to the kind of body-racking sneezes that it's hard to handle gracefully. (Luckily, most of them happened when I was on my own.) Nonetheless, after a few hours with a client in Telegraph Hill, I figured I'd take advantage of being in the neighborhood and do a quick stroll.

On the upside, I finished enough streets to bring my completed count to 104 (please, no calculations as to the minute percentage this represents in terms of actual streets in SF), it was a stunning, sunny day, and being outside actually cleared my head (and nostrils) for a while.

But still, my heart was only halfway in it. Although I've walked alone for every day of this project but one and really haven't minded, today that aloneness started to pull at me, perhaps because it's also starting to truly sink in in general. I had a few interactions with people as I walked--including the guy in tiny Gerke Alley who, as he left his house, noticed me meandering purposefully into his dead-end street and said, "Hey, how's it going?", perhaps in an attempt to determine whether I was a woefully lost tourist or just nuts--but they had to contend with a lot of silence. (In fact, the silence on Edith Street was so complete and so profound that, for a moment, it seemed impossible that I could actually still be in the city; it felt much more like the Italian town, high on a hill, where J and I stayed in a converted castle back in 2002. That place was quiet.)

It's tempting, then, to take a break for a few days, let these sneezing fits pass, and try to line up a few walking partners before I head out again. This project has been great thus far as a diversion and a source of alternate purpose, but for today, at least, that was not quite enough.

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