I'm still struggling to write regularly, although I have lots of notes jotted down with half-baked ideas for essays and research projects (and possibly even book proposals). That said, I am reading a ton, and as I view that input as refueling my intellectual reserves, I'm trying not to freak out about the lack of output on the other end of things.

After closing down the "ed-tech writer" portion of my life, I felt compelled to change the profile blurb on my various social media profiles. (OK, on Instagram — the only one I use.) I deleted "ed-tech's Cassandra" and just left "writer." But now I wonder if I should delete the latter. Am I still a writer? If not, can I become one again?

A month or so, my weight-lifting coach called me a "multi-sport athlete," and frankly, I really like that moniker. I also relish the label "masters athlete," even though I'm so far away from mastery at any of the sports I engage in (weight-lifting, running, yoga). (Actually, you fall into the "masters" category once you reach 35 — or 16 in gymnastics, LOL — but let's pretend it really kicks in at age 50.)

While my inability to write surely doesn't fall in the "what's good" category, my burgeoning physical abilities surely does. I've started seeing a physical therapist/running coach to help me prepare for a half-marathon. (No. I can't believe it either.) She gave me a bunch of exercises to strengthen my gluteus medius , and I was so dutiful about doing them that when I saw her again last week, she advanced me significantly on to harder exercises. Dammit/hooray. I told my weight-lifting coach (who also has noted that my glutes are weak), and she was thrilled to hear I was working with a PT who believed in progressive overload. You can't just foam-roll your way out of discomfort and into a stronger body, contrary to some of the advice one hears. As I slowly add more miles to my runs each week and as I slowly add more weight to the barbell each week, I gotta say: I'm a believer in progressive overload too.

There was a good article in The NYT on "The Healing Power of Strength Training" that reflects how I feel about weight-lifting (and reflects the philosophy of the amazing gym where I workout: Bay Strength). "For many, the sport's healing powers come down to the fact that, where trauma has left them feeling helpless, powerless and weak, lifting helps them feel strong — not only physically, but also psychologically." Yes. Exactly.

I've been training at the outdoor gym for almost a year now, but this past weekend, Bay Strength moved everything into the indoor gym in Berkeley. There was a moving "party" on Saturday, and by the time we arrived — like, 10 minutes after everyone was schedule to show up — almost everything had been loaded into the U-Hauls: quite literally tons of stuff. It only took about half an hour to unload everything on the other end. It was so indicative of how amazing the Bay Strength community is.

"Lifting gave me a sense of agency," one lifter told The NYT. "It gave me a sense of control."

I have much to say about all this, and as such, much to write. But as it stands this afternoon, I'm struggling to do so. And I'm grasping to even think of other highlights from the week, even though it was — I think? — a pretty good one: I made yogurt popsicles with some peach syrup that I made for Kin's cocktails. I finished reading Susan Orlean's The Library Book. We started listening to The 1619 Project. And so on.