Treadmill Journaling and The Gift

What follows is a journal entry I originally drafted on the morning of January 23, 2020, and edited the morning of January 24, 2020. I’ve been trying to journal more, I feel it has a clarifying effect on my thinking. Somewhat scattered thoughts and ideas become more codified, linear, and logically sequenced. Writing has a way of doing that to thought. So I like writing and journaling, but my issue is finding the time to consistently do it. Actually, I have the time. Saying you don’t have the time or using that as an excuse is weak. So, I do have the time, but I’ve had trouble with the discipline required to sit down and do the work and do what is good for me.

So I’ve been experimenting with various approaches that may make journaling more automatic. My previous approach was to make an attempt while in the office, on the desk, in my trading floor style seating. I’d pop open an excel spreadsheet with my ongoing projects and goals, flip to the “Journal” tab, scroll to the bottom, and start typing. I like that format because I’m almost always there physically. I have that sheet open all day. I feel productive at that seat. I’m an efficient typer on my Bloomberg keyboard and I’m in my normal element.

The problem with that set-up, however, is that once the day really begins, and requests start flowing, calls start happening, and the phone starts ringing, it’s very difficult for me to get back to a place, emotionally, where I feel the clarity of thought necessary to make the journaling exercise of highest value. So even with good intention, the day begins and the journaling exercise is postponed. Another raincheck. But each day that you miss is just a missed day, and they have a way of adding up. Next thing you know, it’s been a week or month and you haven’t done what you set out to do.

So I began looking for other settings. The journal entry below, and the text you are reading now, were originally drafted at the Equinox on Murray Street. I typed out the content while walking at a 6.5% incline at 3.6mph.

This is my current journaling set-up. I’m actually kind of surprised that I have the dexterity to clutch my iphone and crank away on the touchscreen keys, but hey, when you’re motivated, you do what you need to do. Actually, something about the somewhat slower cadence (vs seated keyboard set-up) actually sort of works. It slows me down a bit. And I think that built-in speed bump sort of allows for more ideas to enter the fray, a greater crystallization, if you will. Plus I get my heart rate up a bit, and I can finish off the sessions by “pressing play” on my iTunes and cranking out a few higher tempo intervals.

(Workout beats)

Then it’s off for a stretch, steam room session, meditation, cold rinse, hot shower, shave, get dressed, 12 minute walk North through TriBeCa into the office… clear, organized, loose, with focus and purpose. Ready for the day.

And without further tangential side-tracking and explanation, I present, The Gift, an attempt at treadmill journaling:

January 23, 2020

This morning while I was laying down with Danny, he grabbed onto my arm, just to hold me. It was 4:25am. I had just gotten up, alarm set for 4:15am. I had been up since 3:30am actually. Julia came to our door around 4am. We heard the door creek. I said quietly, but directly, “come in,” and Julia came in. Slowly. Tentatively. This could be dangerous for her. We’ve been battling nighttime wake-ups and rearranging sleeping sets ups, and we’ve responded with a wide range of reactions to these types of middle-of-the-night incursions.

Initial contact was made… no yelling. So far, so good. She came around to Momma’s side. Rachel was also up and pulled her into the bed. “Are you ok?” Is she hot? The kids have been battling winter colds, and had recently gotten over fevers. Julia is still very congested. Sometimes these early morning or middle of the night wake ups can be a signal of a cold worsening. We were on high alert. “Julia, what is it?” And she responds in the sweetest little two-and-a-half year old morning voice “I jus’ wanna snuggle buggle.” She was in. Defenses had been breached.

How could you resist that? So we opened the covers and let her climb in. We wrapped her up in a soft warm down comforter, Momma on one side and Daddy on the other, and we embraced her. We embraced each other. With our lips on her forehead, we felt for her temperature. We listened for signs of troubles breathing. She was cool and her chest was clear. She just wanted to feel our love.

My alarm went off as scheduled shortly after, at 4:15am. I climbed out carefully. Julia was not yet completely out, but she was warm and happy. I had prepped her earlier: my alarm was going to go off soon and I’d have to start getting ready for work. We’ve learned not to spring things on our children, particularly things like “I will be leaving your company.”  So she knew my departure was coming and was content to stay in bed with Momma and wait for the morning light to come.

On my way into the bathroom I took a peek into Danny’s (and Julia’s) room, the door had been left open by Julia’s departure. I could see Danny in his “space bed.” Things looked quiet. I was careful to close the bathroom door fully, removing a draped towel to do so, in order to diminish the amount of light and sound cast from the bathroom. I brushed my teeth, splashed some water on my face.

When I was exiting, I noticed that Danny’s door was a bit more cracked. Hadn’t I pulled it closed almost completely? So I took another peek in, and sure enough, Danny was out and standing at the foot of the bed, dazed and tired. So I came in, and crawled into the bed myself, a gesture to invite Danny back in as well. And he did come back in. Under the covers he went, but this time my ears did pick something up. His breathing was a bit shallow. He hadn’t said anything so I prompted him with a whisper: “Danny are you ok?” No response. He was definitely awake and he heard me. “Danny?” I could hear a gruffness in his throat. I grabbed for his water, put the nozzle to his lips, and he took a sip. He let out a little rough bark. Sinus buildup overnight. To be monitored. I’ll communicate that to Rachel later. But the water helped and he was settling back in, Daddy on his side.

That’s when he went for my arm. It was a tender but firm hold. His hands weren’t just resting on me. He had me in his grip. He wanted to feel me if I made a move for the door. And I let him hold me. Something came over me, laying there silently. I realized how much he loves me. And I thought about how as we grow older we can forget what we are and how much we can be loved. Daniel has given that back to me. My eyes welled up with tears. I whispered to Daniel “thank you for loving me so much” and I meant it, sincerely. He is such a gift.