The Twelve and a Half Percent Solution

Quote du jour: Aerodynamically, the bumblebee shouldn't be able to fly, but the bumblebee doesn't know that so it goes on flying anyway.

Something about a month filled with exactly 30 days makes me think in terms of challenges.

For instance, the internal dialogue yesterday went something like this:

Inner Self: Hmmn... did another hour on the elliptical today. Maybe I should stretch myself a bit more on the exercise front.

Damn Knee: Excuse me? What do you mean "a bit more"? Remember me?

Inner Self: Maybe I could do two hours on the elliptical. Or why stop there? Three hours sounds even better.

Damn Knee: The hell you say.

Inner Self: With ice and ibuprofen, it wouldn't be so bad.

Damn Knee: What do you mean by "not so bad", Kemosabe?


Um... to be truthful, the dialogue went on for a lot longer, with a bit more vituperation on the part of the knee joint, but in the end we argued negotiated a trial period of exercising three hours a day, in three separate segments.

Morning: 1 hour elliptical, or 1/2 hour elliptical and 1/2 hour yoga.
Noon: 1 hour running/walking (mostly walking) or 1 hour cycling.
Evening: 1 hour exercise DVD or weightlifting.

I don't actually know what the limits are with Damn Knee, so I'm trying to throw in some flexibility on the options. I'd like to alternate run/walk and cycling, but if the knee complains I'll switch to more core muscle exercises instead. The point is that for the next 30 days I want to move the body three hours a day.

If you figure that's there are 720 hours in September, and I'm only planning to exercise 90 of them (12.5%), then it doesn't sound too extreme. And I'm betting that it will get things moving. I've been laid up pampering Damn Knee for almost two full months, without stopping eating. It's time for one of those total body makeover months.

Exercise du jour:
1 hour on the elliptical
Done!




1 hour cycling
Done!



1 hour DVDing
Update du 10:20 pm: don't give up on me yet. Yes, I had to spend an hour or so on the phone with my mater explaining that MS Word masquerades as a Word Processing application but is in reality a software application designed to increase the sales of Prozac and Tequila is a non-intuitive piece of software.

Did 20 minutes, still aiming to finish that last hour. I want that star.
Update du 11:17 pm: okay, so we're not talking quality time here, right? I mean, the main thing is that the exercise was done. No matter how non-pretty, or the fact that I ended up doing a slo-mo version of the elliptical for 40 minutes. It was done. I gets my gold star.
Done!

Job option: inept psychic?

The good psychic would pick up the phone before it rang. Of course it is possible there was no one on the other line. Once she said "God Bless you" I said, "I didn't sneeze" She looked deep into my eyes and said, "You will, eventually." And damn it if she wasn't right. Two days later I sneezed.
- Ellen Degeneres

Hmmn... maybe I should add psychic to my job search?

Two nights ago, I dreamed my neighbor was ripping off the side of his house to do some construction work. Yesterday, my neighbor actually did start ripping off the side of his house. He's doing some kind of insulation work on the house.

Note to subconscious: Think Lotto numbers! Dream Lotto numbers. WINNING Lotto numbers.

Site du jour: This link is to a vocabulary test. Think you know a lot of words? I thought I did, but some of these had me stumped.

To Dos for Today

• More vegetables & fruit.
  
• Some exercise. I've got a Pilates DVD; maybe I can do the parts that involve core muscles rather than arms or legs. I had to walk yesterday, so today should be a core day.
  
• Finish the damned résumé. Yesterday, I finally wrote down a version of the one paragraph I was stuck on. Today I'm going to polish it up and then I am done. This evening I have a job search seminar to go to (sponsored by my ex-company).
  

Clockwork Merry

Quote du jour: What a wonderful life I've had! I only wish I'd realized it sooner.- Collette

The plus side of keeping track of mileage on the sidebar, sad are the numbers are, is that it gives me something to aim for. I've decided my goal for May is to cycle 80 miles, i.e. I want to cycle to work and back and somehow throw in an extra mile along the way.

There. I've got a goal, posted it for all the world to see. Now everything should go like clockwork. Presuming something untoward doesn't come up.

Since I'm familiar with all the reasons why I don't always cycle to work, I've lined up a list of excuses and ways to deal with them ahead of time:

• Don't wanna. Tough. You've publicly stated you're going to do this, so deal with it. There. Dealt with the worst excuse up front.


• I'll be late for work. Then you'll have to stay late to catch up. Since you've been staying late anyway, you should be used to it.


• I don't have anything to wear. As luck would have it, you've got an emergency outfit at work already.


• I hafta read/reply to all these emails! People will be hurt! Really? Any true friend would understand that you need to get up and cycle.


• Um... give me a minute. I'll think of something. Great! Think about it while pedaling.

Exercise du jour: 21 miles cycling.
Done! Finally. Got soaked to the skin this morning, so cheated and took the Max in part-way. Made up a few miles at lunch -- it was actually sunny, and I had to take off my jacket! Then back home, racing the thunder clouds. Feels good to have accomplished something.

Good or Bad? Tsk, it's all relative

Old Word Made New: Context: a text sent by a jailbird, full of convincing untruths.

Whether something is good or bad all depends on the context. It all depends on the location or situation.

Some examples:

Oh, that's interesting!
Good: If your date says that while you're making small talk.
Bad: If your doctor says that while he's looking at your x-ray.

You've won the Lottery.
Good: The I.R.S. doesn't know where you live.
Bad: You're in a Shirley Jackson story.

Oh, honey, I've missed you!
Good: When your significant other says that to you at the airport, after a long absence.
Bad: When your significant other says that to you on the firing range, while they've still got lots of ammo.


Summary du week:
Cycled 40 miles
Walked 5.5

Good: Got some exercise.
Bad: Not as much as I wanted to.
Good: Look, be glad for what you got, okay?
Bad: Okay, okay, fine, enough already.

This week, it's a short week. Lots of relatives, few opportunities for working out. Regular exercise will re-commence next week.

Do not truffle with my affections, pseudo-chocolate!

Quote du jour:

Mrs. Slocombe — Well, I said to him, quite sternly mind you, I said "If you don't take your hands away, young man, I'm getting off this bar stool and going home!"
Miss Brahms —And did he?
Mrs. Slocombe —He did not.
Miss Brahms —And did you go home?
Mrs. Slocombe —Eventually.
- Are you being served?

WTH du jour: They had an open box of “chocolate” truffles in the kitchen at work. I took one, even though I could see by the label on the box that the main ingredient was palm oil. It tasted rather gross.

I then had two more, to make sure I didn’t like them.


Site du jour: Boredom Enthusiasts Discover the Pleasures of Understimulation. No, that's not a link to The Onion. That's from the Wall Street Journal, for pete's sake. A conference on boredom. There's something out there for everybody.

Exercise du jour: 20 minutes climbing stairs. Gotta work off those truffles somehow.


Real chocolate truffles courtesy of Nieuw.

I've decided that this is All Your Fault

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I've decided it's your fault I'm not getting my originally scheduled workouts in.

No, it's not the fault of the insane work hours, or my slothful need to sleep more than three hours a night. It's all your fault.

If you were DOING YOUR JOB and making me FEEL GUILTY FOR NOT EXERCISING then not only would I STOP WRITING IN ALL CAPS, yes, I would actually be getting some serious exercise in.

Shame on you.

Exercise du jour: No, using ALL CAPS is not exercise. Sadly. Neither is aerobically jumping to conclusions or exercising my powers of deduction. So I guess I'm stuck with something boring actually achievable, like a two-mile walk at lunch.
Yes, I know. I set my sights low. But so long as I achieve the goal, it's a win. And days weeks months like this, sometimes a low goal is all you can do.

Update du 11:38 pm: Crap. I don't think I'm going to fit exercise into the day. Had meetings all through lunch. Tomorrow is another day. Maybe a better one.

Yeah, I'm just springin' into action here...

Quote du jour: Spring has returned. The Earth is like a child that knows poems.
- Rainer Maria Rilke

[Whaddya mean 'what does that mean'? It's poetry. You're supposed to feel it, not understand it. Intuitive, not analytical. Oh, whatever. Fine. Be that way.]

[Note to self: stop arguing with the logical half of your brain whilst on a public blog. People will think you're more weird.]

Exercise du jour: I am going to pedal. On my bicycle. I have sworn it.

Okay, so I should stop with the swearing already. I go through my life like a man late for the bus; running to catch up, I'll settle for getting to the destination somehow. In other words, walked 1-1/2 miles with Manuel.

Making my faults work for me

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Hey, it's about time my faults stopped freeloading and actually did some useful work:

• Stubborn -- I'm using my stubborn streak to force myself to exercise. I don't care how slowly I jog, I don't care how silly I look, I'm going to get this done.
• Get stuck in a rut -- I tend to get in a rut and stay there. I'm making the rut something that I should do, e.g. jog or cycle to work. (Note to self: need to get this to work with housecleaning too)
• Negative thoughts -- rather than thinking negative thoughts about my shape, I want to think negative thoughts about pizza, fried chicken, wine, and chocolate cake. Well all right, maybe just the first three. Think about chickens being mistreated, alcoholics with cirrhosis, pizza... damn. Can't think of anything negative about pizza, except for the way it automatically adds several pounds to the scale.

Anybody out there got reasons why pizza is an inherently bad thing? Are there pizza factories that employ child labor, or anything evil like that?

Exercise du jour: A gentle 2-mile jog.
Done! I love getting the run in before work. Makes me feel smugly virtuous.

Update du 6:26 pm: Oh, this is nuts. All the way home, the little voice kept piping up with comments like "hey, the track is open. Maybe you could run there."
And I'd have to remind it, "No, I did the jog this morning."
"Oh, right," it would mumble. Then, not five minutes later, "hey, it's not actually raining. Maybe you could run 'round the neighborhood."
"LOOK, we just HAD this discussion TWO MINUTES ago."
"Oh yeah. I forgot. Sorry."
So now that I'm home and have fed the dog and all that good stuff, it pipes up with "Well, shouldn't we be planning out a route for tomorrow's run? After all, you need to get it done early."
Argh. Argh, argh, argh.

Vacuuming the dog, and other brilliant ideas

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It's true. I spend so much time cleaning up all the fur that she sheds (and she sheds mass quantities every day) that I finally cut out the middle part and started vacuuming the dog directly. She wasn't thrilled with the idea (I got the "sad" look) but she didn't try to run away.

No, don't call PETA. Her ladyship is a dog with chronic allergies, who spends most of her waking hours scratching her fur off. Since it's winter right now, she spends the rest of the time shivering and growing the fur back. It's a never ending cycle.

What does any of that have to do with exercise and fitness and cute quotes? Absolutely zilch. I was just using this space to vent.

Site du jour: Bug me not. Sometimes you really want to check out an interesting site, but you don't want to hassle with registering and logging in. Bug me not has shared logins for popular free sites that require login.

Another Weight Watchers meeting tonight -- my 8th week. I will show signs of progress. Or else, damn it.

Exercise du jour: Week 8 Day 2 of the C25k: 28 minutes jogging.
It's funny -- the first two minutes, I ALWAYS think that I'm going to have to give up, I'll never make it. Then, if I keep going past five minutes, the body seems to get the hang of the idea, and I can go on. I took it slow, to avoid tendon problems. So long as I go at an "I'm not proud" speed, no probs. And next week, maybe, I'll up the pace. Plus walking.

Self-talk, epistolary fashion

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Sometimes I develop an inordinate hunger. I'll eat every scrap of healthy, high-fiber food in my Mr. Bento, drink liters of herb tea or water, and still be ravenous. (Some days aren't like this, but when it's a Hunger day, well, let's just say it's a good thing I don't have a pet goldfish, okay?)

The other day was one of those days. I was so hungry that I was getting light headed. According to numbers on Weight Watchers e-tools, I was eating an adequate amount of food, but the body didn't agree. It was making a lot of changes and demanding extra supplies. I figured the best thing to do was have a word with the body, try to make it see what I wanted it to do. (Hey Body: rather than taking in food to build muscle, take it from the fat stores.)

So I wrote myself a letter. I described what I wanted the scale to read by the end of the month, and I told myself that I would get to that point if I would accept the hunger and do tonight's scheduled workout. I went further, describing what I was going to look like in three months, what I was going to look like when swimsuits-and-shorts season came around, how good it would feel to be fit enough to walk around without being embarrassed by my shape.

Didn't make me less hungry, but it did make me feel a whole lot more disciplined about the process. I was being hungry because I chose to be. Some people don't have any choice in the matter.

Exercise du jour: Week 8, Day 1 of the C25k. 28 minutes jogging.
Done! Some tendon-y tendency toward complaining, but it got done.

2010: off to a running start

Quote du jour: The miracle isn't that I finished. The miracle is that I had the courage to start. —John Bingham

Off to the Portland First Run 5k 2010. Thankfully, the snow and ice are gone from downtown Portland though not from my house. It should be around 40, which is pretty warm for New Year's. A good sign, mehopes.


Exercise du jour: Week 6, day 3, C25k. Run for 25 minutes straight. Maybe a bit more, if I get caught up in the excitement of my first 5k. I'm going to take Dr. J's advice of starting slow, and ... we'll see what happens.

[Merry stumbles out of bed, eyes half-closed, grabs a gold star, and tacks it up on the blog. Then heads back to bed.]

Didn't do that great, but it's done. And next time will be better. And I lost 1/2 a pound somewhere along the route. And I'm going back to bed.

Hallelujah! It's panic time

Okay, I know I've been observing a ban on cheesy Christmas music, but every rule deserves to be broken once.



And yesterday, I did something that actually caused a bit of a panic attack.
I signed up for a 5k run.

Way back when, 'bout 50 weeks ago, I made it a goal that I would run (not walk) a 5k. Smiling, even. Well, I'm going for it. Of course, I'm not quite through the whole couch-to-5k schedule, but in two weeks, I'm scheduled to run for 25 minutes. I figure I can do that during the First Run 2010 run. That way I can maybe salve my conscience about not getting in all the bicycling I wanted to do this year.

The run/walk starts January 1st at Midnight, Portland time, which might seem like it doesn't meet my goal of running this year. However, my new rule is that all goals set for the year are based on Maui time. That means I will still meet my goal to run (okay mostly run) a 5k within the year.

All of the above seems perfectly logical to me (albeit in a slightly twisted fashion, which is par for the course in Merry-land). I did it proper: signed up online before I could change my mind, then told two co-workers so that I couldn't back out. Then spent the rest of the day quivering and angsting.

Why on earth did I go into a panic attack after I signed up for this race? I have no idea. It makes no sense, not even twisted sense. So what if for some reason I don't run every single step of this 5k? Will the world come to an end? Will I get fed up and stop exercising completely? Neither of these two things seems very likely to me, at least not to my conscious mind. My subconscious clearly has a different idea about these things.

Well, if the world comes to an end at New Year's, you have my permission to blame me. I'll understand. Or at least my subconscious will.

Sheesh.

Exercise du jour: Yoga. Lots and lots of nice, calming yoga. With lots of deep breathing.
Fail. Third headache in a week.

What are you looking at me like that for?

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What?

What did I do?

Okay, so I didn't blog for a few days weeks, but aside from that... what?

Geez, you keep looking at me like that. Quit it, okay?

Yes, I know I started this blog because I wanted to guilt myself into exercising.

I've changed my mind.

I want to weave my own personal version of reality and draw it close around myself like a really old, faded quilt that maybe has frayed a bit 'round the edges but is still soft and comfy and non-judgmental about how much more of me there is to cover. (It's amazing how an additional 3.5 pounds on the scale can translate in 432 pounds in my mind's eye.)

So just pretend I'm not here, 'k?

Oh hell. You're still looking. I told you not to do that.

Fine. BE that way. Just be that way. I'm going to ignore you.


Attempts to fade into the background...


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Yes, I've started talking to myself

Merry's Foot: Ha! You're going to try pounding me into the pavement three times a week? I think not. Pain time!

Merry: Ha! You think you're going to derail my exercise just when I was getting into the routine? Not. I'm going to sit down on a bicycle and get that cardio done anyway!

Merry's Foot: Curses! I can't prevent that.

Merry: Bicycle time!

Merry's Bum: Ahem... um, Merry? You're going to try putting me on a nasty bicycle seat for hours at a time? Pain time!

Merry: @#$! I don't care. I'm going to ride anyway. Vitamin I time!


Exercise du jour: I'm doing a 5k walk with my sister-in-law for one of SIL's charities. Probably won't get the heart rate up, but it's good to do family stuff, especially when you can combine it with exercise. Schedule permitting, I'll try 40 minutes running trudging after.

Photo courtesy of the Eleventh Earl of Mar.

Summary du week and sundry inanities

Exercise? Moi? Maybe.

This week I have completed one whole friggin' 30 minutes run. Indoors, since I've discovered running in freezing temperatures makes my asthma happy, but not me.

Also, I failed the week 4 push up challenge test.

Well, not exactly failed. I think a true FAIL would probably be if both my arms fell off. All that happened was that I didn't qualify with a high enough number of push ups to move on to week 5. I could always try week 5, but based on how I felt during the test, I think not. (It was amazingly difficult to do even 20 push ups. Damn those aliens.)

Mostly I've been testing exercise DVDs for Cranky Fitness reviews. (Don't spend money on the Skinny Bitches Boot Camp DVD. Trust me.)

It looks like I need to have a schedule up here to swear at. Trying to track exercise in emails or in my head is truly annoying. Plus, after-the-fact reporting is not as effective because I'm apt to forget which exercise I'm doing which day. And apparently I need that additional guilt factor of posting the exercise du jour up here.

The other problem is the lack of balance between work and real life.
I need to get up earlier, so I can leave work at a reasonable hour.
Otherwise I get into a hopeless cycle of
- trying to get everything done after I get home late at night
- leading to not getting enough sleep
- resulting in the need for strong coffee to jumpstart the day
- thus necessitating sleeping pills or empty-calorie-laden wine to keep me from being caffeine-wired and bouncing off the walls at midnight
- which leaves me groggy the next day, thus requiring coffee to jumpstart the day ... arrrrrrrrrgh!

Exercise du jour:


No! No! I'm not going to try out another exercise DVD tonight! I'm going on strike! Let my 3 miles of virtuous walking count as my exercise du jour and give me the damn star before somebody gets hurt.





Thank you.

Hmmmn.... maybe those "100% Natural" Sleep Aid pills were a mistake. I did wonder when the package promised it was the "non-drowsy formula." (Non-drowsy sleep?) I wonder if the pills are starting to get to me, mwa ha ha ha ha haaaaaaaaaaa............

Excuse du jour: alien abduction

I can only conclude that I was temporarily abducted by aliens last night. It's the only explanation that fits the facts. While I can't remember any details, they must have been experimenting on me. When I tried to work out today, I found the following physiological changes had occurred:

- my arms have been filled with lead or concrete weights; it is almost impossible to do as many push ups as I was doing two weeks ago.
- my running shoes have been treated with some form of superglue or else my legs have been injected with an alien anti-exercise virus; I cannot lift my feet off of the pavement to run.
- they performed some kind of alien mind-meld that has left me with a compulsion to curl up on the couch and watch old Babylon 5 DVDs.

Damn those aliens.


Finally finished day 2 of week 4 of the push up challenge. In other words, I'm caught up as of Wednesday's exercise du jour.

The bleat goes on...

Fantasy du jour:Sleeping in until I damn well feel like getting up.

Disclaimer du jour:I might have to sneak today's push up challenge in at work between crises. Good thing I have such a delusional positive work ethic.

Exercise du Jour:Push up challenge, week 4 day 2

set 1 14
set 2 16
set 3 12
set 4 12
set 5 max (at least 18)

This is migraine, not yours

Headache bad
Mary sad
Writing a blog is no Iliad
Better ideas are not to be had

What, you got a problem with bad poetry?
Think you can do better?
Go ahead.

Try.

I dare you.

I should probably try to write a more interesting post, but my synapses have all got tenure, i.e. none of them seem to be capable of being fired.

Migraine photo courtesy of flickr.
Migraine itself courtesy of multifarious biochemical processes.

Sometimes you just have to Marvel

Had I but money enough, and time,
This floor plan, lady, were no crime.

My search, like a feng shui workshop, should flow
Smoother than escrow and less slow.

- To his coy realtor, Andrew Marvel (attributed)*



I mean, who puts the master bedroom smack up against the kitchen?
Why build bedrooms too small for a double bed, but a garage that could fit a fleet of cars and a couple of medium-sized yachts?
Why in the name of all that's logical would you place a garden shed right up against the house so that it completely blocked the only window in a bedroom? (This shed was in quite a large backyard, forpete'ssake.)

I think I could do marvelous things with some of these houses if I had tons of money ... and maybe a bulldozer... but it would involve a lot of work. Well, not for me personally, but for the large number of tanned, lithe construction workers whom I would hire to do my bidding… sigh.

I think I'm tired of looking at houses. That's probably why I've fallen in love with an inappropriate house. I know full well it's much more sensible to buy a rundown 3 bedroom and fix it up, but this other house is so nice! Older houses have good "bones." (And not so good plumbing sometimes, or electricity, or ... yeah, yeah, I know, I know.)

I think I should stop looking at Offbeat Homes. Is there a blog out there called "Deadbeat Homes"? If not, perhaps I should start one.


*(Attribution disputed by one or two pretty much every reputable literary critic.)