punching sand to improve my capacity to outrun myself

The heavy bag is assembled in my former office after finding that the bag / stand was not too wide but rather too tall (after assembly, of course) for the current office in the paintshop; much hilarity ensued. Learning the basics of boxing and incorporating it as my fourth daily solo exercise alongside yoga, HIIT, 5k run, and, I suppose, drumming into my daily exertions has long been a goal. Similar to the previous three / four, I've no interest in competition against anyone but myself, my exertions being simply another means of outrunning the shithead in my brain.

Intriguing to recognize the similarities between a boxing practice and my efforts to re-learn – and improve – upon my previous drummer-iteration: both are hand-led disciplines of metronomic timing, coordinated limb independence, relaxation, rhythm, and movement – foundational jab/cross/hook/whatever are to the bag what foundational paradiddles/flams/flam accents/rolls/open/closed/etc/etc are to the drums. Also explains why I'm getting the hang of boxing quicker than I expected: still, have to learn to slow it down and break each movement down as I would each rudiment on the drumset; either way, a fascinating experiment in fortuitous timing, right/left/right right/left – related: 10-foot-long headphone cable arriving today so I can play the TD-1K without getting my sticks and myself tangled up.

Newsletter writing flurry: a piece that I had intended to be a humorous and somewhat snarky look back has metamorphosed into something else, something different. Such is the way: every time I tell myself I'm going to write something quick and short and entertaining I transform/terraform it into some soul-searching meandering. Either way, it arrives tomorrow morning in subscribers' inboxes.

Treetrimmer invasion update: a growing number of trees in The AC look either like pieces of broccoli or middle finger amputees waving proud in the air but, on the bright side, my grandfather's lawnmower is no longer stuck in the mud – though treetrimmers had fuckall to do with that: self + Amish passerby riding lawnmower lift FTW.

Madisynn and Wong need their own MST3K-inspired MCU show. Wongersynn.