I’ve taken a bit of a blog hiatus lately. I seem to keep saying the same things, so I wanted to wait until I had something to say. And I still have a few half finished blogs just waiting to get polished up and sent out to the world. But in the meantime, I’ve got some thoughts I’d like to share to prove I’m still out here!
I ran again, again! Last week, I decided to bite the bullet and go back out for a run. What started as a 4 mile in my mind stretched to 5, and then I figured “what the heck, 6 was your distance for quite a while, see how that feels!” and I did. Two things stuck out to me: I did not feel like my leg was breaking the next day, and after nearly a month of absolutely no running, I still averaged 8:45/mile. Not my normal 8:30, but still sub 9 so I was pretty stoked. Ran with my friend Jen for a few miles several days later, and it still felt good and didn’t hurt. I love running. I love the feeling of coming back in the door after a run, sweaty and salty and completely exhausted. I love the definitive feeling of “I just ran ten miles, I’m eating whatever I want!”. It just works better than “I used the AMT for an hour, now give me some FOOD!”.
Above comments notwithstanding, I’m maintaining the same level of fitness I was while running my face off. I discovered that while running will always be part of my routine, it may first factor in a few times a week, and we’ll go from there. I don’t have to be half marathon ready all year long. That’s hell on my joints, tiny little calcium deficient bones, and mental well being. I have learned that the secret to me being OK with where this body is, is steady state cardio. At least 45 minutes, 5 days a week, plus 1-2 strength training sessions, some plyo, and I’m good to go. And “being OK with” means a 5 pound weight range I’m cool with, while still being able to enjoy a glass of wine after work and eat pretty much how I want.
My border collie is addicted to coffee, and it’s all my fault. I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this, but Duncan is addicted to coffee water. Every night, while getting my coffee maker ready for the next morning, I overfill my pot and then dump the rest into their bowl. And the second he hears me get the pot out, he comes and sits next to their water bowl. That dog…sometimes, there are no words. But considering that he’s sitting under my feet right now, I’ll let it slide.
We had a date night Saturday night, in which we also realized we’re 85 at heart. We went to see “Gone Girl”, which I’d read. Jeff concluded that I read “some really messed up books”. We then headed to our local tapas restaurant and had a pretty darn good dinner. Spanish risotto, crab cakes, and some of their specialty brussels sprouts. I had some delicious fall sangria and Jeff had a Manhattan with a twist. Side note-now I’m obsessed with Sangria, and think Jeff should make this reasonable substitute. Cloves, cinnamon, rum (instead of stupid peach schnapps. Peaches are gross.), delicious! Anyway, our movie was the 4:45 to begin with, so Jeff wouldn‘t fall asleep, and so dinner was at 7:30. We had dinner, went over to the local pub for a cocktail and a pipe full of tobacco for Jeff, and were home by 10. At which point, we looked at each other and said “bedtime!”. You know you’re getting old when a bedtime splurge is starting a movie instead of a tv show. Wow, the luxury of 90 minutes instead of 45! Yeah, haha, doesn’t matter-we stay awake the same amount of time either way. But we THOUGHT we’d stay up later, and that’s what matters, right? Anyway, we realized after 30ish years for each of us that it is just easier to go to bed and get up around the same time every day, weekend or not. And yeah, we sleep a little later on weekends, and take naps when the spirit moves us (ME), I’m cool with being an “old lady” on Saturday night.
Babies are so cool, especially when they don’t wake me up. Stopped by my friend Jen’s house Saturday morning and tonight for some running shenanigans. Her 4 month old son is pretty much the coolest thing ever. When I was there Saturday, he was doing his “tummy time” and when he saw me, he grinned and giggled. Then he waved me closer (I was already on my stomach right in front of him). I pictured him as a tiny mafia don, waving me closer “cuz he had to tell me something”. Tonight, I fed him some green beans & rice. OK, fine, I fed him a teaspoon and smeared about 3 tablespoons all over his face, bib, table, and my own arm. Anyway, that kid…he’s pretty much the coolest thing ever. I can’t wait to take him places, and do things with him, and all that jazz-especially hand him back and get an uninterrupted night’s sleep. He’s such a little miracle for them, I’m so glad he’s here. Basically, what I’m saying is I take responsibility for like 1/8 of the adult influence in his life and I can’t wait to hang with him through all developmental milestones.
So, for all my rambling, the bottom line is that I’m doing well. I didn’t fall off the rails when I couldn’t run anymore, Jeff and I are still a solid marriage with no Gone Girl aspirations, and dogs are cool until they get addicted to caffeine. How the hell have you been, friends?