Archive for the ‘Working Out’ Category

Travers and Natalie’s wedding was this past weekend, and let me go ahead and say that it was one of the most fun weekends ever.  I knew it was going to fun, but I don’t think I realized HOW much fun it was going to be.  Friday night was a blast, and Saturday night went by in the blink of an eye.  When someone told me that they were leaving the reception, I couldn’t believe it.  I thought it was about 8:30, and it was actually 11.  Things quickly got out of hand at the Partridge Inn, and one of my last intelligent thoughts of the night was that I probably should have eaten something at the reception and that tomorrow wasn’t going to be awesome.

Sunday wasn’t quite as fun and definitely did not go by as fast.  So I decided that I needed to go through some detox  and rest this week.  The best part about detox this week is that alcohol hasn’t appealed to me in the least bit, and with daylight savings, going to sleep at 9:30 has seemed completely normal.

Then this afternoon I decided to take it to the next level.  I went to hot power vinyasa yoga.  Mary Righton and Suz and the rest of the Brown family gave me a month of free yoga for my birthday, but I’ve been working so late the past few weeks I haven’t been able to go.  I knew I was going to struggle, since I am woefully out of shape and I haven’t done yoga since I lived in Athens, but I figured it would be a good way to kick start my new commitment to healthy living.

I did better than I expected, and enjoyed it more than I anticipated.  I did have to step outside of the hot room about mid way through because I was seeing stars and I’m pretty sure I was hyperventilating, but I went back in and I finished!  I thought about barfing on the way home, but after some gatorade and some puppy love from the Briscoe Dog, I’m feeling much better.

I feel sure I won’t be able to walk tomorrow, or the next day, but I want to go back next week.  The idea of alcohol is still making me feel ill, but I did manage to eat dinner.

Charleston has better radio stations than Augusta.  Speaking of music, I found a cd case of old mixed CDs from college while unpacking all my stuff.  I put them in my car, because, who knew, I don’t actually have any other cd player in my life anymore.  LUCKILY, the silver bullet has a six disc changer, because that was a super rad cutting edge car accessory in 1997.

I remember a lot of these songs, and some of the songs were classics that I still love.  But I was left with the overall impression that some of the music I listened to in college was AWFUL, and that I obviously took advantage of a lot of free downloading of poor quality bad music back before the government figured out how to stop file sharing.

I can’t wait to get in the bed tonight.  I’m going to sleep like a professional sleeper in my awesome bed with clean sheets and the greatest pillows ever.  Sweet Dreams!

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Y’all, I am so sore.  Sore like wow.  This is the seventh day in a row I’ve been sore.  And I haven’t been working out at all.  Which is probably why I’m so sore.  If I worked out more on a regular basis, I probably wouldn’t be so freaking sore. 

Last week I met Libby and Bryan in Steamboat to visit Zack and to ski.  Andrea came up from Denver for the weekend, and we had a grand old time.  Friday night, Lulu cooked dinner for us, and Andrea brought a case of wine, and a shot ski, we had a dance party, and it snowed like crazy, we went to see Miss the Boat, and  stayed up entirely too late.  It was an extremely fun night.  I would show you the pictures, but then I’d have to kill you.  It was so fun, it almost killed the rest of us on Saturday.  Luckily the snow was dumping and the visibility on the mountain was really poor, and it was the best day for us to ski a half day.  We had fun, but the next two days were much better ski days in general.  But even skiing a half day left me sore on Sunday.  After skiing we went to Slopeside where we destroyed the best nachos in America and drank sunshine beer.  It was marvelous. 

Saturday night we went to the Johnny Cash cover band, which was really interesting.  The guy sounded just like Johnny Cash, and he told these bizarre stories like he really was Johnny Cash.  I’d never realized just HOW MUCH all of Johnny Cash’s songs seem to run together, but three hours of the Johnny Cash cover band made that very clear to me.  We had a great group of people, and we ran into Jarrett, who took us to Mazzola’s for late night meatball sliders.  They were DELICIOUS!  So good. 

Sunday was an awesome day of skiing, we got in a few more hours with Andrea before she had to drive back to Denver.  Sunday night we watched the hockey game, when USA beat Canada – and Zack and Rich tried to teach me all the rules of Hockey, of which I was previously sadly ignorant.  Libby knows a lot more about hockey than I do.   

Monday we got up early and hit the slopes.  Rich was nice enough to be my personal ski instructor, and helped scrap me off the side of the mountain when I face planted into the snow going 90 miles an hour.  Which might have added to why I feel like I’ve been beat up.  I actually busted bad enough that ski lift ticket was ripped off.  Haha.  I’ve never had that happened before.  Rich was convinced that I’d destroyed my knee in the fall, but I survived. 

After skiing we went to the hot springs (steamboat springs!) and soaked our muscles and played in the fog while our wet hair froze to our heads.  We laughed at the lifeguard wearing boots and a parka and wondered how long it would take him to strip off all his outer layers and shoes to save someone if they were drowning. 

Tuesday was a long day of travel back to the east coast, with a layover in Minneapolis, a screaming child on all flights and a disastrous marta experience.   I was sore from skiing until probably Thursday. 

Friday afternoon was set up day for the Junior League Attic Sale.  I moved a lot of plywood and I have to say my shoulders and back can feel it today.  This morning we were at the fairgrounds early for Move In Day – and after hours and hours of moving boxes and furniture and toys and trash – we are all moved into the fair grounds!  Now comes the fun part of making the fair grounds look pretty for Sale Day, which is next Saturday.  I’m the facilities coordinator, which means I’m in charge of the trash and the beer and the golf carts and the security guards.  It is really fun. 

Oh, and now I’m so sore.  I think I’m coming down with a terrible cold, although I can’t tell if I’m sore from all the unorthodox weight lifting and cardio I’ve been performing or if maybe I’m coming down with the flu. 

But instead of sitting on the couch and worrying about it, I’m going over to Matt and Jenna’s to cook out and sit by the fire.  Sitting by the fire is going to soothe my weary bones.  Right? 

Oh yeah, Briscoe says hi.  She wants to know who wants to come over and brush out the tangles in her hair because her owner is neglectful and if she had a phone she would call the humane society.  But her evil owner won’t let her have a cell phone because she doesn’t have any thumbs.

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We had a trial yesterday.  Trials don’t happen very often in my line of the law, and so when they do it is a big deal.  We worked all last week and all Sunday afternoon to be prepared.  I was at the courthouse at 8:15 to get someone to show me the multimedia.  Trial was suppose to start at 10 but didn’t start till around 11 because the judge was trying to clear his criminal calendar, which meant all the ADAs and PDs and lots of attorneys were at the courthouse, which is always fun and made me miss being in court. 

We picked a jury, went to lunch, argued a motion and won, and started the case.  All the sudden it was 4 pm.  The Plaintiff’s attorney was still on his first witness.  Then inadmissible evidence was introduced, the jury was quickly ushered out and the judge declared a mis-trial.  AGGGHH.  I find this intensely frustrating.  Regardless, I was back at my office around 5, and left from there to go to a happy hour for our paralegal’s birthday.  I had a glass of wine and a beer over the course of about two hours.  I got home around 8 and decided to go for a jog.  It was really pretty and I felt like it was starting to cool off (it was only 89 degrees with 100% humidity). 

I ran about three miles, with some good hills, and ended my run right at the house, put briscoe on a leash and walked her for about a mile.  At happy hour I munched on a couple of snacks, and when I finally finished working out in the heat I was anything but hungry.  It was getting late, I took a shower and watched tv and ate a bowl of cereal for dinner.  I didn’t sleep well. 

This morning I ate a Z bar and drank coffee.  When I got to the office I realized I’d left my water bottle at home (nerds!) which was fatal mistake number 2 (number 1 was going for a 4 mile workout after drinking wine and eating potato skins). 

Fatal mistake number 3 occurred at lunch.  We went to picadilly cafeteria.  I don’t like this place, but my partners do, and I’ve gotten to the point where I always get the baked chicken and mac and cheese and green beans and I’m safe.  Well today, I didn’t feel like chicken.  I was HUNGRY!  And I got the chicken pot pie. 

I should have known this was a poor choice because it was sort of creamy and rich looking and I haven’t been tolerating rich food well as of late.  But I wasn’t thinking. 

So after lunch, things went from bad to worse.  I started to cramp and sweat and shake.  Even my toes were cramping.  I had to come home around 2 and lay on the cool bathroom tile.  I never actually got sick, even though I would have given anything to have just thrown up and felt better. 

I’ve been trying to choke down gatorade and ginger ale all afternoon.  I’ve been eating saltines.  I keep thinking I feel better so I get up to do something and I just feel weak as water.  I must feel better tomorrow.  I must. 

We’ve had a very mild summer so far and it was much hotter yesterday than it has been.   I’m not in excellent shape.  I haven’t been working out enough to go out and run in the heat like that, especially not after drinking wine.  I know better.

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I rushed home from work at 5 pm yesterday.  It was pretty, and I was just itching for a run.  Since it gets dark so early these days, I had to hurry so Kate wouldn't worry about me getting hit by a car.  My dad used to write our names and telephone numbers on our running shoes with a sharpie just in case. 

I couldn't decide whether or not to take Briscoe, she doesn't like to run very long, and I kind of felt like a long run.  But the sun was dangerously close to the trees and the sky would darken quickly when that happened, preventing my long run.  And when I put my running shoes on, she got kind of excited, which made me think she wanted to go.  So I dressed her in her pretty little harness that she doesn't much like, and I had to drag her away from the car (she wanted to ride!) and out into the street (We've spent a lot of time working on staying in the yard, she knows she isn't allowed into the street, so this is always a struggle). 

For the first mile and a half Briscoe is super pumped and wants to run FAST.  We hit a good hill at about that point, and the hill takes a lot of her enthusiasm away.  When we had been running for about two miles (we were right by Sky and Matthew and Brice and Jenny's house), she really started dragging.  Her lead is long, so on sidewalks I keep the loop around my elbow and hold onto the leash to make it shorter.  She pulls in the beginning, but by this point she was trotting along side at a good pace.  So I dropped my hand hold on the lead, and let her have a little slack.  

About ten yards later, she stopped abruptly to use the bathroom ( I guess she's had more water than I thought).  This would have been fine, if I had not been on a concrete driveway under an oak tree.  Leaves and acorns are a serious hazard, and these slippery suckers, along with my dog's great timing, took me down.   

I fell.  Hard.  Actually, I slipped.  I almost wished someone had seen me because it had to have been hilarious.  Like a cartoon.  I had leaves ALL OVER ME.  And Briscoe was just sitting there, like, WHAT?  I'm BUSY!

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Thoughts on Running

I say the STUPIDEST things when I’m running. 

Actually, that isn’t always true.  I like to talk when I run.  A lot people have a hard time running and chatting at the same time.  I’m not one of those people.  I like to talk.  But it doesn’t bother me if who ever I am running with has a hard time running and talking at the same time.  I’m happy to just tell a story while we run.  It is nice, because the other person isn’t trying to interrupt me during a long drawn out story that probably has little to no relevance on their life.  Most of my friends who run with me say they don’t mind because the stories are mostly entertaining.  I get bored when I run so I like the mental challenge of trying to remember the events of some past drama and relate them to someone else in an engaging way.  It gives me something to concentrate on and I can normally make sense. 

But, if I am running by myself, listening to music, and I see someone I know, and I stop and talk, I never make any sense at all.  I call people by the wrong name, I say things like, good morning!  when it is late afternoon, I answer no to questions that I mean to answer yes to, I stammer, I stutter, and I all around sound like an idiot.  I try to get away as quickly as possible.  It is like I have the correct words in my head, but they don’t come out of my mouth.  And it ALWAYS happens when my run is interrupted by a conversation.   

Then I spend the rest of my run thinking – YOU IDIOT!  Why did you say that?  Now they think you don’t know who they are/can’t speak english/don’t have a good grasp on the world around you. 

I guess running is just such an escape for me, and I zone out to such a strong degree that it takes me a little while to get back to the real world.  This is why running trails is really in my best interest.  Less people to run into who want to talk.   Too bad there aren’t any good trails around here.

p.s I painted my finger nails red.  It makes me real happy for some reason.   

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Sacrifice the Body

I’m exhausted.  I went to weddings the past two weekends, and this past weekend I stayed up WAYYY too late.  Friday night I’m blaming it on the groom, which I think validates my lack of sleep, but Saturday was pretty much my own fault.  But it was really fun and worth it.  I’m just now paying the price. 

I’ve been rather slack in my work out routine as of late, and it was cloudy and muggy when I got home from work this afternoon.  And I’m still tired.  But I have real guilt issues with not working out, mostly associated with how my mental happiness has a direct correlation to how often I’m breaking a sweat. 

So I decided to play tennis on the nintendo Wii instead of going to run.  You know, for exercise. 

Well, I broke a sweat all right.  I might have also broken my hand on a piece of furniture.  And I’m pretty sure I threw out my arm.  And stomped on my dog a few times. 

But it sure was fun!  Then Britt came home and I smoked her in the two player tennis. 

Then she beat me in the Wii play shooting game.  I’m convinced my controller had a low battery. 

Wanna play?

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One of my day dreams is that I am famous and part of my job is to be in terrific shape.  I don’t want to be famous, I just want "working out" to be in my job description to a point where I could justify devoting a great deal of time and money to my workout.  For some reason the only job I can come up with that would allow me to do this is being famous.  I don’t want to be required to train for a sporting event.  I want to work out for the sheer purpose of looking great. 

I would own a gym that would have lots of trampolines, round ones, long tumble track ones, bouncy ones, taunt ones.  And they would all be in the floor.  And mats all over the place.  I would also have a big padded floor with a mirror in the middle.  Basically I would have my own gymnastic training center, but it would used exclusively for tumbling, bouncing, and stretching.  We might have some treadmills, but probably not.  Since this is my fantasy, the training facility would be situated next to some wooded trails on rolling hills.  And if I’m really feeling rich in my dream, at least one side of my gym/warehouse would open up like a garage door, revealing said woods, you know, for pretty days in the fall and spring, or even summer depending on where my fantasy is located.  Sometimes is it Georgia, sometimes Colorado.  Sometimes elsewhere. 

Since I’m rich and famous, I would have a couple of people who worked for me, probably part time, but maybe full time.  I would want a tumbling coach, nothing too fancy, I don’t want to do crazy things, but just someone to watch and offer suggestions and help.  Maybe bounce on the trampoline with me. 

Oh, and there would be a sweet stereo system that blasted lots of fun music.  People could bring their iPods. 

I would also have a yoga instructor on staff.  Once again, I don’t need the best in the land, I would be happy with a college student who taught yoga on the side.  My roomie in college, Betsy,  was (is)  an aerobics instructor and she could kick my butt all day long. 

I would want my friends to come work out with me.  I get bored by myself.  It could be lots of fun. 

I would have a poweraid fountain, and lots of luna bars and pria bars and fresh fruits. 

And those big fans.  And shoes would be prohibited, along with cell phones. 

We would do handstands and backflips to our heart’s content. 

It would go something like this –


Tramp Tramp3

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