Fitfy: 49.33

I originally set out to make this theme a weekly check-in for this final year of my 40s.  The larger goal was to motivate myself into finding a balance between a reasonably healthy physical self and mental and emotional satisfaction with how that state of physical being manifested itself.

Y’know, to ditch the body-negative mindset that I’ve been emotionally kicking the shit out of myself in pursuit of for the last 20 years or so.  I didn’t quit this theme so much as I took a hiaitus in order to refocus on that goal when I found myself falling back on the same habits that had delivered me to where I found myself on Jan 22 of this year: injured, eating emotionally, physically and mentally depressed…your basic nightmare.

So, that’s what I did.  I put down my phone, walked away from the laptop and WordPress app – at least as far at Fitfy was concerned – and focused on collecting myself mentally to re-engage with diet and exercise.

I addressed diet first.

Before it addressed me.

Also, because I’d gotten comfortable being physically lazy.

I’d been having a real challenging time at work with a really unhealthy emotional situation with Capt Can’t.  I’d been drinking too much and too often to self-soothe instead of dealing with the situation.  I went 29 out of 30 days with more than four drinks in me.

In addition to the drinking – as if that much alcohol wasn’t enough of a red alert – I’d been eating crap.  Candy and coffee for breakfast and chips or popcorn with my alcohol for dinner.  

It’s a wonder I survived the month.  Luckily, I had my righteous rage to sustain me.

But, changing the diet was hard.  I needed some crutches.  Like sharing my bottle of dinner wine with the Silver Fox instead of hiding out in my living room overfilling my own glass.  

See?  That’s a 50% reduction in consumption right there.

Ok, 60/40 since I’m kinda tricky.

Fine!  70/30 because he’s more disciplined than me to begin with…but, still – a reduction in consumption!

Other nights, I would switch to a diet soda overdose to distract my way through a couple days of not drinking.

Then there was reintroducing real food to my diet.  I focused on significantly reducing my “reward days”.  Actually, the goal was more to flip the ratio of healthy meals with bullshit junkfood reward meals by 180 degrees.  I had to be willing to allow myself to waste food while doing this, because normally I will resist cooking at home under the auspices of not liking leftovers.

Step one here was a win-win because I challenged myself to cook food that created leftovers I can tolerate eating, like Italian food.  The bonus here was that I had a couple days of lunches afterward.

What I was most proud of with this first step was that I was eating friggin’ Italian food.  This isn’t something I would have entertained back in June after slipping back into my old food punishing ways of plain grilled chicken and broccoli for dinner.

And lunch.

I was making fun, carbolicious food that felt like a mother’s hug in my belly.

It was a treat, but still healthy-ish.

It wasn’t popcorn.

There were a few nights I’d steer myself away from eating take out for dinner and cook up some tasty red meat protein at home, not great for me…but good enough.  Yet on other nights, I’d order that pizza and then only allow myself one reasonably sized meal off of it.  No eating the entire thing in one sitting or breakfast pizza the day after.  Wasting food isn’t my favorite thing, but I needed to force some discipline into my diet while fending off a potential binge by making myself feel deprived.

If a few slices paid the price, so be it.

Ok, enough of my public diet shaming…it’s making me crave chips for dinner.

The other piece I needed to address was exercise.

I’d already gone butt-wild at the gym early this year and ended up reinjured for my troubles.  The healing break that caused in my gym goings came at a not awesome time:  right on the heels of my Capt Can’t work stress and subsequent medicinal regimen of booze and comfort food.

I think I put on 15 lbs in 30 days.

That also didn’t help with my healing – carrying around a bunch of extra weight.

So, coming off the bench, my mind was set on cardio to slim down versus focusing on those gay muscles.  A nice chest and arms is aesthetically pleasing, but I’d have to look pretty hard to find anything darker than a dotted line between my Fitfy Mission Statement and chesticles.

Complicating the matter, the cardio machines at 24hr Fitness tended to tweak my knee injury pretty easily.  This is something I wished to avoid.

Cycling, it was.

Sadly, I wasn’t getting home from work until around 5 each day, which made getting on the bike for a couple hours hard. Particularly when you factor in that I’d need to come home, shower, make dinner and hopefully be in bed by 8 for work the next day.

I was averaging one ride a week.

No bueno.

Fortunately for me, The Filipina Fox had just started her new spin instructor gig at RevoCycle, just a few blocks from my house.  She taught Tuesday and Thursday nights and encouraged me to use the first two free gymcentive – Chrisism – to try the gym out.

I was skeptical.  

I loved the results that spin produced as a workout, but these classes are in the $13-18 range.

Too rich for my broke ass and its paycheck to paycheck existence.  I’d already let my 24hr membership lapse in arrears, though, so in this particular moment, “free” was just inside my price range.

Of course, I loved the workout.

It was all the usual good stuff about a spin workout: intensity, intervals, instruction, motivation…but their equipment was unique, too!  Their bikes are free-wheel affairs, like a real bike versus the typical weighted wheel you usually find on spin bikes.  The free-wheel meant no added stress on my knee.

Being able to walk pain free the day after class:  priceless.

After my week of free classes was up, it was time for an overdue vacation and time with the fam.  I swear, I will get around to writing about it, but for now, just know that I spent plenty of time on my bike.  And, my parents being the awesome folks they are, they slipped their broke ass boy some walking around money before putting me on a plane.  I swear, this whole “walking around money” phenomenon that happens in my family before someone gets on a plane?  I’ve always been a little jealous when I’m not the one traveling. 

But, thanks to the parentals, I had a few shekels for some spin classes.

And that’s where I’ve been putting my exercise effort, 2-3 times per week.  It’s nice, most of the classes I take are 40 minutes of spin and 20 minutes of what they call body sculpt.  Basically, that’s a 20 minute barre class…which is just enough to finish kicking my ass.

It’s been a great few weeks – this is the last week of my pass, so someone start a GoFundFatty to raise money for my next pass!  I’ve dropped enough fluff to fit quasi-comfortably into my 33″ waist shorts.  That’s a nice benefit…one that doubles my shorts wardrobe, too!  I’m still closer to 200 lbs than I’d prefer to be, but I’m moving in the right direction and I also know that some of my weight loss is camouflaged by lean muscle gain as I begin to regain leg muscle that has eroded over the last year of poor exercise.

It’s nice to see some definition peeking out from the shorts I now fit into again.  I call those muscles my eighths but people who are not cursed with chicken legs would call them quads.

Best part?

The last month of exercise has been largely pain free!  Like I said earlier, I can walk without soreness the day after class. That’s a huge plus.

My one instance of suffering was not so much a result of my exertion in class as much as it was a side effect of my usual gracefulness.

I’d been pushing myself hard in this particular class.  It was my second of the week and I’d noted the drop off in performance compared to the first class of the week earlier in my month-o-spin and wanted to push through it.

Mostly, I succeeded.

Mostly.

We were doing climb intervals.  Slowly increasing resistance until you were forced out of the seat to finish the interval, then repeating the process – the climb, if you will – about three times during a song.

It was the second song, second climb.  I already felt like I’d left it all on the last climb, so I was struggling…but determined.

Once that second climb ended and the Filipina Fox gave us permission to return to the seat…I sat.  As a matter of fact, I didn’t just sit, I fucking sat.

Hard.

Right on poor little lefty, if you get my drift.

No idea what he was doing hanging out back there, but I’ll tell you this…I didn’t pedal right for the rest of the class.

Meh.  It’s ok, though…it’s not like I’m using those muscles anyway, so I guess it could have been worse.

Fitfy: 49.33

Fitfy: 49.21

Here’s a draft from almost two months back from my Fitfy theme of posts.  Look at the second bullet and you’ll see how a little encouragement is definitely not what my innate procrastination skills need.

– I finally started my sugar detox.

– The hall pass from the Fox.

– Watching Working Girl…Melanie Griffith is only 10 years older than me and looks like hell.  Sigourney Weaver is almost two decades older than me and is an untouched, statuesque beauty.  

– What’s that teach me?

I’ve been aware of my lack of follow through on this weekly theme.  It’s a combination of reasons, really:

– I wasn’t feeling 100% physically after my first three months back into a gym routine and needed to let my Needle Man do his thing without interfering in that healing.

– Mentally, right around the end of June/beginning of July was challenging for me because it was right when the work conflict with Capt Can’t began.

– As I was feeling physically better and wanting to jump start myself out of my emotional funk, The Fox went down so my gym buddy was out of commission.

But while in my notes I had made a point of using Melanie Griffith and Sigourney Weaver as a cautionary tale regarding aging and how shortcuts in the moment can cost a lot superficially in the future – something I knew from my past use of fat burners and performance enhancers – it was that last bullet that really proved most valuable.

What’s that teach me?

When I review my posts from the first quarter of this initiative, I can see how quickly they turned into a pedantic laundry list of a workout journal and a food diary.

Neither of those are bad things, in and of themselves, but neither was anything other than a part of the whole result I was aiming for by my 50th birthday.  I wanted to come out of this year with a more whole-istic happiness with my older self, letting go of the narcissistic twenty-something shell person that I was half a life ago and valuing my being based on my internal qualities as an individual.

And I wanted a healthy shell to carry that individual around for the next few decades.

Food diaries and workout journals were really a small fraction of the task as a whole.

Frankly, it was the downward spiral that Capt Can’t initiated that pulled my nose out of the ass of those two elements.

Sidebar:  is “downward spiral” redundant?  I never hear anyone refer to an upward spiral.

So, there I was…all butt-hurt because a co-worker bullied me.

And got away with it.

It took a while to realize – or remember, at any rate – that I have no control over another person’s actions or behavior.  I was stuck emotionally reliving each of the other significant bullying moments from my past – and there have been too many – every day at work and self medicating with comfort food and too much of Oregon’s craft beer and wine every night.  Seriously, in a four week period I drank every night but one.

It was quite a cycle.

So, I focused on letting go of that cycle and embracing a different one.

My bicycle.

Since then, I’ve been wanting to write a Fitfy post about cycling but have also been wary of just falling into that same pattern from earlier in the year.  I will post again in Fitfy, but I’ve spent the last few weeks trying to get back to the right balance before I do.

Y’know, the balance between a person who is emotionally at 100% and physically determined to go from being 110% of a person to just 100% of a person – zing! – without cutting into that initial sense of emotional well-being in the process.

Yeah, that sounds easy.

But standby, maybe your patience will be rewarded…

Fitfy: 49.21

Fitfy: 49.19

I think it’s time.

I’ve been focused on preserving my physical well-being and developing some routine around structured exercise.  

I’ve been cleverly denying curbing my bad dietary choices at the same time.  Sure, challenging myself to cook at home versus eating out – which has become more of a necessity since tax time, too – but I’m still cooking more comfort food to soothe my emotional self than food that supports my entire self.  

It’s time to focus on integrating diet into this hopscotch toward success in my exercise regimen I am currently on.  I do feel better for the once weekly fit of exercise I get outside of my 6-9 miles walked at work daily…but that ain’t slimming the old silhouette, if you get my drift.  I know a diet based more on lean protein and vegetables will improve that result.  Further, those foods with their added latent results will probably mentally and physically stimulate more of a post-workday activity mindset.

I’ve been avoiding supplements to help reduce my body fat.  I don’t want a crutch.

I’ve been stalwart in my resistance to far diets, whether it be a juice cleanse or going paleo.

I’ve been contemplating a return to a diet prescription an obnoxiously fit gym owner my age once gave me.  He recommended only chicken and green veggies like broccoli after lunch…he’ll why not for lunch, too?

I’ve been glaring at my iced lattes, mentally preparing myself for a return to home made cold brew.

Making those moves would be a jolt of support toward my goals.

Ironically, I realized that diet regimen has been given a trendy and modern name:  a sugar detox.

Plus, it’s a fairly stripped down version of a paleo diet, too.

So, starting Wednesday…three days of hardcore focus on this diet plan and the layering some different foods in while maintaining that base.

After all, what’s in a name, as long as it works for me?

Fitfy: 49.19

Fitfy: 49.18

Well, there’s a break in my weekly fitness accountability updates.

Perhaps I should just call this one Fatfy.

Six weeks off between posts.  I blame The Silver Fox, but only recreationally.  Overall, I’m in charge of me, but here’s the story…you may enjoy it.

It all started with The Fox taking one of his ever more present weekend trips away.  While also having cataloged the rest of his upcoming weekend getaways.

It might have been our Friday coffee before his family vacation in Bend, OR where he, his ex-wife and son from south of Portland and his Seattle son and his family all rendezvoused in this Oregon high desert brewer’s delight of a town.

Perhaps it was the weekend after, where he went north to Seattle to dog sit while his Seattle son’s family went to the in-laws for a visit.

Or the weekend when he popped down to the coast to work on the beach house renovation his ex-wife – the perfectly lovely Sallory – and he were embarking on.

Definitely not this past holiday weekend when he went down to yurt erection party at the beach house.

At one point during his laundry list of upcoming weekends away with his family and/or Sallory, I exclaimed, “You guys are retired! Why can’t you go away in the middle of the week?!?”  A thought that caught him a little off guard, I could tell he was briefly considering the worker bee ritual of maximizing one’s weekends that no longer strictly applied to him.  Ultimately, he set that aside to declare that he couldn’t do that for the yurt building party because the other folks helping still worked.

But he left me an 18 pack of Mac and Cheese from his pre-Bend provisioning Costco trip, so there’s that.  It’s great when your best friend knows you so well that a box of Kraft soothes all manner of sins.

Also, I’m quite simple.  Not basic, since my tastes tend to run either rather high brow or – as in this case, obvs – low brow in the extreme versus basic…which is just common.

I’m gonna have to think about the amount of justifying that my admission of love for the comfort of Kraft Mac and Cheese just required.  But, Myrtle likes it too!  Or the box, at any rate.

So why is my absence from blogging about – or even actually participating in – my fitness journey as I approach my 50th somehow The Fox’s fault…even if only for my amusement?  He’s one of those…motivated people.  It’s so disturbing to my natural state of procrastination.  On my Fridays off, he likes to get our coffee and chat about the week and then make for the gym, which is basically kitty corner from the coffee shop we hang out in.  Well, he hangs out there.  I am a squatter, since my caffeine tastes run to Nossa Familia down the block, but his coffee shop has better seating.  Still, the gym is right in the middle of the two, so he’s right on that we should go to the gym while we are in the area.

However, it’s not my style.  I’ve always been a post-work gym goer.  As I’ve gotten older, my energy level has…leveled off.  The result is that after ten or more hours at work, I’m just as likely to fall asleep on MAX as I am to have the energy to break out of my couch’s orbit once I get home.

Ergo, gym-going has been relegated to my days off.

While this yearlong journey is intended partially to help me find new habits that I can adopt to move forward with into the back third of my life, I have not fully explored too many things that felt like a sustainable routine.

For one of these weeks away of his, I decided that I would have coffee with The Fox and then go home, do some chores and then go to the gym afterward instead of the somewhat established routine of wake up, coffee, gym…it’s such a breakneck pace for what is essentially my Saturday morning.

Looking back, that was the last time I even planned to go to the gym over this six week hiatus.

I was busy.

Eighteen is a lot of boxes of Mac and Cheese.

Plus, I was working.

A lot.

A couple of six day weeks.

Averaging about 7.5 miles of speed-walking around PDX during those hectic workdays…it’s not like I wasn’t getting some exercise in.

So, I forgave myself my weakness and indulged my inclination to potato myself on my couch.

After a few weeks of seriously sedentary days off, I started thinking that it was getting to be bike riding weather in Portland.  Another week of not pulling that trigger and I began experiencing lower back pain.

A side effect of my sofa slouch.

Good news for the Needle Man.

Bad news for my future fit fifty year old self.

But!

You’ll be glad to know that as of last weekend, I have returned to my reluctant cyclist self.  My first ride was a shorty.  A ride that I hear others talk about as an achievement and roll my eyes – a simple 10 miler.

Uphill.

See?  That right there was an error in judgement on my part.

I was looking for a scenic ride on a sunny Portland day.  Thinking, “Hey, it’s just five miles away…” and completely forgetting that it was five miles uphill.  Crazy, windy, two-lane roads through a part of Portland’s semi-exclusive west-side hills.  It took me an hour to make the ride up.  the view I had on my beautiful city once I got there was worth it.

You can’t see the floaters in my field of vision in the pictures, but you can still see Mount St Helens and – what I think is – Mount Adams in the distance.

The ride home was – obviously – much easier.  But harrowing as I rode my brakes most of the way downhill into town.

In rush hour traffic on the Friday before Memorial Day weekend.

Yeah, this was a super well thought out excursion.

On the decidedly plus side:  endorphins.

On the decidedly not-plus side:  my ass feels like hamburger from my saddle rash.

But, I’m not going to let that stop me.

I.

Am.

Back.

 

Fitfy: 49.18

Fitfy: 49.11

Nothing to see here, folks.

Move along.

Not only did I skip an entry last week – after my finest week of the year, too – but I compounded that by quite nearly doing nothing to report on during the week past.

I am a big believer in down weeks to let your body rest and also create a bit of a jolt to get you past a plateau when you resume exercise that next week, but let’s face it…I’ve hardly been doing anything consistent or impact-worthy that my body would need a down week.

Yet, here I am.

That said, I did manage to drag my old ass to the gym yesterday after my standing coffee date with The Silver Fox.  I had planned to lift and then do cardio, but his Foxiness is not back to lifting yet, and when we don’t both follow similar routines, it’s difficult to sync up our arrival/departure times.  Not that our routines are mirror images.  He prefers to do cardio and then lift, I am the opposite.  But time-wise, it marries up well.  If I lift and he doesn’t then I usually only get a half hour of cardio in before he’s ready to leave.

Which is odd, since I would normally prefer to avoid cardio altogether.  But, after a down year, my body needs cardio to burn that fat.

Anyhoo.

When we go for an hour of cardio, we generally try to grab side by side machines.  There is exactly one set of our preferred machines that fit this side by side mold, so it’s not always possible to make that happen, which was the case yesterday.

I walked upstairs while he grabbed a locker and our sweet spot was half occupied by a woman on the treadmill he would normally use.  Instead of conspicuously grabbing the machine right next to her when there were eight of the machines I like sitting empty in a row, I went to the opposite end of the row.  This had the added benefit of allowing me to watch The Masters while I huffed and wheezed instead of some new channel showing the batshit craziness that is haunting our White House these days.

Of course, my machine had some sort of hitch in its giddy-up and I could make out some weird click-snap-pop on the right side as it articulated, even over my headphones – Annie Lennox, in case you were wondering – but I was just glad it was the machine and not my body making the noise.

I turned up my music and huffed merrily along.

I looked casually over twenty minutes into my workout, longing for the silent companionship and smooth-working-sussurations of my normal Fox adjacent machine only to see that The Fox had somehow taken up residence.  It’s unlike me to move from one cardio machine to another during my hour, especially if it’s only from one broken down machine to the exact same model that is in full working order, and this was no exception.

Hey, I can commit, ok?  Just look at the embarrassment of romantic riches in the broken down boys I have dated in my life.

So I stayed put, texting The Fox, “You were a great white whale when I walked by that machine earlier” or some equally angry for no real reason other than to point out that I had at least looked to see if our machines were available when I came upstairs.  I then began text-complaining about how lackluster my workout felt.  Probably because of the wonky machine.  Also because a breakfast of iced latte just wasn’t giving me the energy to exercise with my normal faux enthusiasm.

Also, Annie Lennox isn’t an artist that inspires a lot of moving around…lesson learned.

Of course, this morning The Fox indicated that he hadn’t slept well last night, which usually means we are just grabbing coffee and not working out afterward.  Which is fine since I woke up with a soreness in my usual knee and an added return of an old injury in my left toe.

Gotta love waking up with random injuries.

Sometimes I miss the good old days when I would wake up with a disco related injury on a Saturday morning from the prior evening’s goings on.

Who knows?  Maybe I’m sleep dancing now.

But, not going to the gym after coffee gave me time to come home and pop out an exercise blog entry about – basically – not exercising.  Now, the big question…to post a retroactive entry about my best week of exercise year to date or just go to the gym and do something constructively physical to close out the week?

Facebook seemed to be suggesting that I day drink by posting this photo of me doing just that five years ago in Seattle with my one worthwhile ex-boyfriend…

But I’m really trying to balance my work-night drinking, and tomorrow is my Monday.

Ugh.  Big-boy decisions…guess you’ll have to check in next week to find out what I decided!  (Hint:  it’s probably Netflix on the couch!)

 

Fitfy: 49.11

Worlds Collide

Well, in a fit of what can only be rampant Xtopher’s persistent survival, today at the gym I found myself caught between two of my ongoing musings:

The Red Shirt Diaries and Fitfy.

Just a real quick glimpse for you into what happens when those two worlds collide…we’ll call it Fitfy 49.7 and The Red Shirt Diaries #8.  Don’t worry, I am sure I’ll find more to share on the whole Fitfy phenomenon later in the week for the half dozen of you with nothing better to do than wonder whether I’m eating right and exercising…we’ll call that Fitfy 49.7.5 but don’t look for it until Saturday, my work schedule changed a little this week.  The upside is that I get a mid-week break from my early mornings.  The downside?  Well, there really isn’t one that I can think of.

Since I’m off today and working Friday, that effectively ruins my standing Friday morning coffee – and occasional gym – date with The Silver Fox.  I made sure to tap him for coffee this morning.  Can’t have my best friend feeling neglected.  He accepted, but seemingly on the condition that we actually go to the gym after instead of just talking about it.

So, really, this is all his fault, now that I type it out.

I wake up at 7, after a luxurious eight and a half hours of solid sleep.  Seriously, this was some coffin sleep if I ever have experienced it.

Coffin Sleep, for those unfamiliar, is basically falling asleep on your back and sleeping so deeply that you wake up in pretty much the same position you fell asleep in.  No tossing, no turning.  Just sleeping.  The repose is reminiscent, I suppose, of a body in a casket, hence the name.

I felt friggin’ fantastic.

Naturally, I resisted getting out of bed, even though I was completely refreshed.  I laid in bed for an hour and a half; playing Words With Friends, checking The Facebook and Instagram and reading news…then I texted The Fox and shared my self-indulgence.  Turns out that he’d been engaged in basically the same.

We met up for coffee about 20 minutes later, dressed for the gym.  Me, freshly showered, because that’s how I go to the gym.

Coffee passed with our normal blend of chatter and phone checking, either for additional discussion topics or to phone fact check something in our conversation.  I think most of the latter was related to his recent re-decent into the rabbit hole that is Game of Thrones…what I recall with certainty was IMDb entering into the equation.

 

No, wait…he was looking at IMDb because we started chuckling at a meme he had sent me, which brought Jessica Walters into the conversation.Naturally, that created a tangent, as often happens with our conversational relationship, and I wondered aloud whether Jessica Walters was yet 75.  Seventy-six, it turned out, a fact he shared right before he realized that she had been in Play Misty for Me and shortly thereafter he started waxing nostalgic about Clint Eastwood playing Rowdy Yates.

Neverthemess…we make our way over to the gym and find our respective favorite cardio machines.  His is a couple rows back and over to the left from mine.  I’m well aware of this fact, but don’t usually check on him, outside of an occasional text to see where either of is in the progress of our sesh.  That said, I wasn’t surprised to get a text from him at about the 55 minute mark.  I was surprised that it said he’d taken a pee break and needed 15 more minutes.

Here’s what he missed:

Me, almost dying.

I was huffing and puffing away on my elliptical when I got this weird feeling in my stomach, right below my sternum.  I thought maybe I swallowed wrong and took a couple of deep breaths and a swig of water to clear it.

Nevertheless, it persisted.

Of course, I started to worry that something was wrong.  Well, not something generic, specifically:  abdominal aneurysm.

sanfordI grab the handholds and just brace for the worst, hoping I don’t shit myself in the gym as my circulatory system makes like the Oroville Dam and I ride out of this world like Fred Sanford.

Of course, having successfully failed at finding a partner to spend my life with, there’s no Elizabeth for me.  I’m just hoping I don’t get “Carried” at the Pearly Gates.

Of course, amusing myself with Fred Sanford and the Sanford & Son theme playing in my head whilst dying at the gym prevents me from realizing that I’m in good company…Douglas Adams having suffered a similarly public demise.

Of course, that wah-wah-wah-dum theme music in my head also prevented me from following the life lessons Douglas Adams tried to impart in one of my favorite books of his – The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.  Namely:dont panic

And, of course, everything was alright.

Seventy-five minutes of cardio, a haircut and a shower later, I was having a delicious mexican lunch with The Fox, including a well deserved margarita to calm my near-death nerves.

Worlds Collide

Fitfy:  49.6

I had this great idea for goals that would refresh my commitment to working out consistently.  I thought it would be fun to commit to five cardio sessions that matched the distance I walked at work during my five day week.  I was thinking it didn’t have to be on the exact day…my work week didn’t have to be mirrored by my cardio days.

It’d be a lark!

I mentioned it to The Silver Fox during coffee on Saturday and…he poo-pooed it!

I think it was just to prove a point.  Occasionally, he’ll get bristly when I call him things like an enabler or supportive.

I think over correcting gives him a good chuckle.

Me, on the other hand…tell me something isn’t a good idea and dollars to doughnuts, I’ll try and make my point!

Ergo, here’s what happened at work last Sunday:

The 5.5 miles walked at PDX on Sunday meant my cardio goal for the evening was another 5.5 miles on the elliptical at the gym!  Of course I needed to make a statement by ensuring at least me work and cardio weeks began on the same day.

Sure enough…stubborn Xtopher made his point.

On my way home from the gym, I couldn’t stop thinking about the pasta with Italian sausage that I was gonna dive into when I got there.

Somehow, that morphed into a can of Progresso, a bottle of wine and a half bag of Cretor’s.  What?  I was too wiped out to cook!

FML.

But

At least I can say that 5.5 miles on the elliptical = 633 calories, and I have it on tenuous authority from Little Buddy that a bottle of wine is 620 calories…

So, there’s that.

Then on Monday, this happened:img_1856
I mean, c’mon!!!

I put a pin in that lil hurdle and took the day off from the gym.

Tuesday is acupuncture day, so ditto on the day off.  I intended to go in at my regular 6:00 am start time and leave at 1:00 that day, get to the gym by 2:00; lift, do some cardio – especially since it was only a 5.1 mile day – and then head home to shower before my 4:45 appointment.

I can have it ALL!!!

Except I forgot about a standing – particularly when I make alternate plans – meeting at 2:00 on Tuesdays.

Oy.

Fine.  Day two off from the gym…but I could make up ground on Friday and Saturday.  I mean, it’s not like I wanted to go to the gym every day.

So, Wednesday I go and knock out a nice lil 5.26 cardio sesh.  It’s like I got a point to make.

I don’t remember Thursday, although, I do know that it’s my Whine Down with The Fox to detox from my work week and get mentally prepared for my “weekend”.   The not so secret ingredient is wine.

Oh, wait…now I remember.

So, how about that Friday workout?!?

I got my lift on with a nice full body workout and then went upstairs to do some cardio.  I ended up riding out the full hour, even though that put me in between any of the remaining goals from my work days.

img_1860There was an extenuating circumstance or two…I had a celebrity look alike stretching in front of me for the last 20 minutes of my session.  The guy that plays Ryan from Quantico.

Not just stretching.

More what my dog trainer would call presenting.

Rawr.

I definitely got time for that!

Saturday, I intended a good old lather, rinse, repeat type workout – at least as far as the cardio went.  I did a full body workout with weights on Friday, so I was out for recovery on Saturday.  The Fox and I did coffee in the morning and then compared notes on the rest of our day.

Me:  errands and gym before my grandfather’s 95th birthday outing.

I needed kitty litter.

He:  off to the grocery to grab some fixins for an hors d’oeuvre he was taking to dinner that night.

I say “night”, but both of our dinners were starting early.  My family’s reservation was at 4:00, because:  95 years old eat early.  He was due at his friends’ at 3:00 so that their dogs could play around in the yard while it was still light out.

Somehow, I ended up getting a ride along for my kitty litter errand as he went to the grocery.  Oh yeah…it started raining.  Like, biblically raining.

We went to Mud Bay, got some litter – he also decided on the impulse to grab some toys for his pup.  Then we hop in the car and go after some of what I can only call…the best hummus on the planet.  I hope I didn’t undersell that.  Seriously, though…if you are in Portland, you need to get a chance to grab some King Harvest Hummus.

So good!

You can only get it at a few places.  The closest place to us is the New Seasons Market over in the Conway district.  As we walked in, they had a yoooge stack out of Juanita’s Tortilla Chips.

Great chips.

The best.

Even better are the Chilipeno flavored variety.  And they had Sweet Chili and Jalapeno, too.  Neither of which I had tried…and they were 2/$5, so…yeah, that happened.

But, I thought it might make a nice lil treat for after the gym.

Until I realized that it was really raining now.  I guess I was just kidding about it raining hard earlier.  This was a downpour!  So, I figured that I could go to the gym after my grandfather’s shindig and plus, if I went to the gym and then had a snack of chips that I can never stop eating, I would probably be too full come dinner time.

Just like I was too full at 7:30 when I got home from dinner.  I guess I conveniently failed to factor in that we were eating at The Old Spaghetti Factory.  Not exactly light fare.

But, still…27.6 miles walked – briskly, I might add – and 16.5 miles on the elliptical?  That ain’t too bad.  The Fox was right, I’m not up to matching my walking output on the elliptical yet.  Nor am I anywhere near the work/life balance getting to the gym five times in a week requires.

But there’s a goal for the next few weeks!

Fitfy:  49.6