Sunday, November 10, 2013

November 8th, Day 8

Grover Beach, CA
The next morning, I had breakfast with Jay and Joan Marie and Isaiah (scrambled eggs with broccoli and cheese!) then stiffly stepped out the door towards Pismo Beach, my next destination. Isaiah raced after me, his parents keeping pace behind him; this is their tradition of sending off guests, though usually Isaiah can't keep up with the departing guests, them being in cars and all. My brittle body, the mule for my own rig, was a bit slower.

I knew I could afford to go easy today because I already had a place to stay for the night, so I ambled along knowing I also was planning on taking a rest day the following day. My body needed to recategorize itself after the transformative pain of so much goddamn walking. As fortune would have it, I was staying with Mike Limberg, a good family friend who happens to make a great living (ophthalmologist), meaning I would be very comfortable. My body hadn't forgotten the previous day's effort so when I arrived at his home, I collapsed and ate all the things. I drank two sodas. Ate more food. Lied down forever.

Later that night, I attended a party for Limberg's girlfriend at the Presidential Suite at some fancypants hotel. Obviously, I was underdressed. I also didn't engage much with the guests, too tired to talk, too full to eat more. My parents were also there and so were the Mackins. It was good to see them, but the fact that they could be there at all forced me to realize how little distance I'd actually gone in one week. My surroundings had not changed yet, not really. I was still at the beginning.

I stepped outside for air, my mood turned to a lower setting. I wanted to visit the Pacific, to respond to the conversation of its movement. I walked down to its sands and, looking out over the night it was reflecting--absorbing-- I had the urge to be in it, under it, perhaps because it is so much more massive than myself. So, in an attempt to be away, I approached the rim of its waves as it rushed towards me, placed my hand in its salt and coldness, and thought about what it might be like to do the same on the other coast.

No videos for this day.

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