I know you're probably about to write me off as yet another blogger who's lost her cyber mojo aren't you?
PLEASE DON'T!!!
Honest... since Big Dave's been home from work (two weeks and counting thank you very much) I've just been kind of busy hanging with him. Believe it or not, but we're not divorced yet, and in fact this overabundance of co-habitation has been kind of... well... yes I'm saying it... nice.
He's pretty immobile because he happens to be right handed, which happens to be the hand in the cast, so at the moment he's softly snoring on the couch next to me after having watched some sort of Tom & Jerry marathon on Cartoon Network. (I think he's starting to get bored... yesterday he shaved off ALL of his facial hair... well, I mean not his eyebrows or anything, but definitely his mustache/beard/goatee... and his head is slick bald as well.)
It's been a LOT of years since I've seen him naked-faced, and I keep wondering who this pink, clean-shaven person is... too weird! And Miss Priss can't stop staring. It's pretty hilarious.
And I guess that if I'm actually blogging about my husband's lack of facial fuzziness, it must mean that things are kind of slow around here. No major action... nobody jumping into freezing swimming pools, nobody streaking through the woods, nothing exploding in the firepit. Nope, just us, the dogs and some pretty healthy lookin' pea plants in the garden.
I did, however, have an exciting morning at the gym today, which is rather nice because today started my fourth week of bodily torture at my own hands. As I told you in my previous post, I'm not seeing a lot of weight loss, and things are definitely still in the gelatinous zone, but I think maybe just maybe I may be swinging in the right direction.
See... like eight years ago Big Dave and I tried the gym gig, and in my general state of unfitness, I was mortally embarassed by my arch-nemesis, the elliptical machine.
It's true. At the young age of thirty, I mounted the mechanical beast and managed to 'stride' for approximately TWO minutes before succumbing to earth shattering charlie horses in both thighs.
Fast forward back to my present attempt at the gym gig (shall we call it Jamie Meets the Gym... Take Two?) After a few days of slagging my own body weight on the treadmill, I decided once again to climb aboard the good ship gut-pop, better known as that #@$&ing elliptical machine. I swore to myself that I would suffer through ten minutes on the beast, NO MATTER WHAT. My reasoning for this was that Weight Watchers gives you one activity point for ten minutes of excercise. And lo and behold, I actually did it.
I was a proud child. (Even if the more fit folks were lasting half dozen times longer.)
So then a week later, I decided to do it again. And I managed to last TWENTY minutes on it. Oh hizzle to the yizzle!! I rejoiced. (Even if the more fit folks were lasting three times longer.)
But then I didn't do it at all last week, it seemed the two good elliptical machines were always taken when I got there. Instead, I focused on running on the treadmill. I did my leg extensions, seated leg presses, and lunges.
And then this morning when I walked out of the locker room, the gentle steed stood gleaming in the morning flourescence. It beckoned me, and I went to it. The handles felt good in my hands, the foot pedals cupped my Sauconys. Game on.
I lasted an hour.
A whole freakin' HOUR!!!!
Shut up.
Really?
And guess what, I was the more fit person for once. I did it. And I'm pretty sure I could do it again... tomorrow maybe (if I can feel my legs.)
So you could say that I'm feeling pretty dang FABULOUS right now. I'm going to avoid all full-length mirrors for at least twenty four hours so I can continue to bask in the glow of my accomplishment. This feels good.
No.
It feels GREAT.
Have a delicious day my peeps... it's time for carpool.
;)
How do you keep from being bored for an entire hour on that thing? Do you sing to yourself? Read a book? Really!
Posted by: Sid | February 22, 2011 at 02:55 PM