Interior dialogue, with gratuitous Hugh Jackman pic

Quote du jour: “I have never taken any exercise except sleeping and resting.”
Mark Twain

Me: I need to put up a post on my blog.
Inner critic:Why? Nobody ever reads it.
Inner paranoiac: Besides, even if someone does read it, they'll give you advice!!!
Me: Because I need to hold myself accountable. I can go a few weeks keeping up the daily exercising without blogging about it, but something always happens to derail me, and once that happens, it's hard to get back into it.
Inner slug: Stop! I'm blushing.
Inner defeatist: Look, it's simple. This week, you've been working 10 hour days. Add that to the 3 hours of daily commute and 8 hours of sleep, and that leaves you one hour in the day to eat, exercise, shower, weed the yard, mow the lawn, and whine about how tired you are. What do you expect?
Me: The only solution I can see (aside from not working 10 hour days) is to build exercise into the commute.
Inner selves: Why not just put up a picture of Hugh Jackman exercising instead?



Exercise du jour: Callanetics this evening. Next week, plan B.


Photo courtesy of Cool Guyz

Wait a minute... who turned the lights back on?

Whew! It's bright in here now.
Must be time for a spring cleaning, or something like that.
(It's warm enough for a spring cleaning... the weathermen were all warning about a huge storm, 'Snowmagedden' approaching. Turns out to be more like 'Slushmagedden.')

I've been good, and I've been bad, but mostly I've been tired.
My immediate goal for the week is simply to get to sleep before midnight, so I can get up before I have to already be at work, so that I can get to work at an early enough hour that I can leave at a decent hour so that I can get home in time to get to sleep before midnight so that I can...

Oi vey maria. Enough already. I'd like the universe to send me a job that doesn't involve spending 3+ hours a day commuting. Preferably one that includes a respectable salary, positive co-workers, interesting-but-not-extremely-stressful work. Also, I'd like the workplace to be populated with single, straight Hugh Jackman lookalikes. (I thought I'd throw that in. You never know.)

It's Boxing Day -- not Kickboxing Day

Quote du jour: Next to a circus there ain't nothing that packs up and tears out faster than the Christmas spirit.
- Kin Hubbard

I've never found a good explanation for why the day after Christmas is called Boxing Day. Even Scopes found it hard to explain. All I know is that it means I have to clean up wrapping paper and do some extra dishwashing.

Wait. It also means I have to go back to work tomorrow? Already? Jeez.

Something tells me that if I found a job that I loved to do and looked forward to every morning, I wouldn't have that reaction. Just a hunch.

Job hunt update: Got some nibbles, but most employers aren't really interested in hiring between Christmas and New Years. Still, I've updated the résumé, dusted off the interview outfit, and posted my latest info up on Monster. (Surprisingly, that's still a highly popular job site. I'd have expected a more tech-specific site, but that's where a lot of employers still look.)

Exercise update: I've been Suzy Slacker all week. Luckily, this blog is a guilt-free zone (or I'd have a lot to say to myself on this subject). Instead, I'm going to focus on getting something done exercise-wise every day this week. It's not that I'm incapable. I'm just totally unmotivated. Pretty sure I don't need to be motivated to exercise; I just need to be capable.
Plus, if I get up and work out this week, I'll end the year on an up note, which is always a good thing.

"Oh good. You still work here."

see more Monday Through Friday


Not the best way to start the day: "Oh good. You still work here."
- A co-worker, when I walked into the office one day last week. Turns out the company's been playing musical chairs, a.k.a. reorganizing.

Not the best way to end the day: That night I drove home by back roads, going 60 down dark, narrow roads that don't even had a shoulder if you need to pull over. I turned into the driveway, shut off the engine, and only then noticed clouds of steam rising up from under the hood. Half an hour later, the car was still steaming. Can't see any loose hoses, but there's a definite smell of antifreeze. Thankfully, I can get around without a car if I have to.

Goal for the week: I'm thinking that I might try working four 10-hour days this week. The manager told me that this was an option, and I'm wondering if it will work out better. I get more done when I can concentrate for long periods of time. Plus, I'm spending three friggin' hours a day commuting. Would be nice to only have to do that four days a week.

On the down side, doing this means that I will have less time to exercise during the week. Therefore, I have to take a walking lunch break. Also, I will have to make it an absolute rule to use the elliptical every night. That's going to be hard. I don't mean physically, but mentally. By the end of the day I'm usually worn out and want "me" time -- I want to relax, put my feet up, and be self-indulgent. The trick here is to try to persuade my inner slug that using the elliptical is a form of self-indulgence.

Exercise du jour: 4 miles walking, 15 minutes elliptical. Yes, I know it's the same goal as before. When it gets easy, I'll up the workout. (It's easy enough physically. The challenge here involves time and discipline.)
Done! Actually did 5 miles walking.

The World of NIM

see more dog and puppy pictures

NIM^TM (New Improved Merry) is a person who:

• Leaves the house at 5 I'm-not-kidding-move-it-woman 30 in the morning


• Every day Monday through Friday


• Is bright, cheerful, energetic and a good worker good at faking the right things, given sufficient coffee


• Is determined to get into a positive rut re: exercising

The trouble with this new job is that while it is infinitely cheaper to take public transport, the train stops running at a fairly early hour. (It only runs during rush hour, which is not the same thing as Merry Transport Time.) So I can either haul myself out of bed at an early hour or take the evil SUV, spending much gas and taking almost as much time to get to work.

I am not, by nature, one of those people blessed with an early morning mindset. I think mornings are something best enjoyed from a warm, cozy bed. Given my druthers, I would crawl out of bed by 9 o'clock. Or 10, at least. 11 o'clock, definitely.

Okay, okay, I've done with the whining. No doubt re-inventing myself will prove an interesting and worthwhile experience. Maybe. It's possible, anyway.





Exercise du jour: Okay, I will try this again. Didn't always managed to do both 15 measly minutes on the elliptical and 4 miles of walking. Maybe it'll be easier this week. Maybe I'm getting used to this new schedule. Only one way to find out.





Done! Well, close enough. Only 3.5 miles of walking, but I made up for it with 30 minutes ellipticalling. According to Theresa's formula, that should work. And she's a doctor and everything, so even if she can't take my temperature she should at least be able to do complicated Ph.D-ish computations.

Random thoughts, not to be confused with whining

see more dog and puppy pictures

Quote du jour: Keep on going, and the chances are that you will stumble on something, perhaps when you are least expecting it. I never heard of anyone ever stumbling on something sitting down.
- Charles F. Kettering

Site du jour: I take back every sneer I ever sneered at eHow. If this works, I'll be a happy (or at least alimony-happy) woman: How to marry a millionaire.

Day 13 of the 30-day push. Not feeling enthused about this month's goal of 3 hours daily exercise. I don't think it's the exercise itself that's causing this feeling; I think it's the fact that it's been too damn hot to sleep at night. Miss enough sleep and nothing looks good to me.

Maybe I should put Sleep on my To Do list. Have another interview tomorrow. Need to look alert, or something approximating alert.

Argh.

Exercise du jour:
Morning - 1 hour split between walking & elliptical. Gotta get that blood flowing somehow.
Done. The elliptical is better than coffee for kicking me into gear.





Noon - 1 hour elliptical. Got a new (to me) DVD that I'd like to watch. Pretty much the only time I watch TV/Videos now is when I'm on the elliptical.
Done. Not a quick & peppy pace, but done. This lack of sleep is kicking me back out of gear again.


Night - 1 hour gardening. I suppose it's a good thing that my weed-rich yard affords me so many opportunities for exercise. I suppose.
Well, sorta kinda done. I cheated and ellipticalled for half an hour. It's mindless, I can listen to music and watch TV (yes, simultaneously) and time goes by faster. I still have to find time for another half hour of exercise, but I'm going to take a break to study for my interview tomorrow too.
Update du 8:42 pm: finished. 3 hours, all elliptical. Hey, I go with what works. Wish me luck tomorrow!

Someday soon, I'm going to work out. Really. Honest. Would I lie? To you? Naaaaah.

Quote du jour: Going to work for a large company is like getting on a train. Are you going sixty miles an hour or is the train going sixty miles an hour and you're just sitting still?
- J. Paul Getty

I think I am coming to the end of the latest series of 15-hour work days. Regularly scheduled exercising, sleeping, and blogging will re-commence shortly. Probably.

There's a light at the end of the tunnel.

Oh wait...






Photo courtesy Theophile Escargot

Where ya been, Merry? Getting a medal.

Quote du jour: People seldom do what they believe in. They do what is convenient, then repent. - Bob Dylan

What, you noticed the silence? You wondered where I'd been?

Well, here are some possibilities...

Things I might have been doing lately instead of blogging:

• Plotting. Creating conspiracies brilliant novels requires very little noise apart from hair-tearing and under-the-breath swearing.
  
• Taking over the world. Granted, this usually tends to require a bit more noise. And minions.
• Suffering from TITSTP syndrome. Sadly TITSTP (This Is Too Stupid To Post) syndrome can shut a blog down. I've seen it happen. You go to post something, look at it on the screen, and then come to the conclusion that pure white blank space would be a helluva lot more interesting than what you've written. Fortunately... I ... am... immune... sorta...
• Work. No. That can't be right. I can't have been sacrificing everything else in my life at the altar of Work. Sorry. Unacceptable. I've been slaying dragons, ravishing handsome princes, climbing Everest. Something like that.
• Exercising, damn it. Um... well, I could have been doing that kind of thing. In reality, not really. Sorta. Does that count? No, I didn't think so. I have been updating the sidebar, pitiful as it is. I need some kind of accountability. Unfortunately, I'm not sure that I need to keep this blog going the way I had been doing it.

Maybe I should be doing this differently? Is it time for a change?

I mean, I'd had a great thing going here. I set up a schedule, posted it for all the world to scoff at see, and then I'd have to get the exercise in or declare a fail. And it was great... for a few years. I'd gotten to the point where I saw exercise and those damn green vegetables as part of daily life rather than an occasional penance. Good things were happening.

And then.

Does the fact that something worked for you in the past mean that it should work for you For Always?

silence

Um... that wasn't a rhetorical question.

silence

Really. I was hoping someone would chime in here.

crickets

Fine. BE that way. I mean, it didn't seem that much to ask, but if you're going to be like that, well, fine. What worked for me in the past ain't doing the job now, but I'm not about to ask you for suggestions. Not if you're going to be like that. I'm going to sit in the corner and feel sorry for myself instead.

You know... I may not be good at a great number of things, but I have a clearly outstanding talent for the 500-meter Self-Pitying Whine. Do they give medals for that?

Site du jour: 5 Fundamental Practices that keep you from writer's block. (From the blog How to Plan Write and Develop a book.)

Exercise du jour: Look. I'll walk, or I'll cycle, or I'll elliptical. Then I'll come back here and say I done it. That's as good as it gets right now, plan-wise.

Hmmmn. Not sure if it's a semi-fail or a semi-win. Cycled a whole 3 miles. It's a dark and stormy night; I gave up and rode part way on the Max. Heard tell that tomorrow's another day.
Thursday: Cycled 8 miles. Want to do more tomorrow.

February, you've outstayed your welcome

I am bored with winter.
And with trying to exercise in winter.
And with whining about trying to exercise in winter.

But wait! I know how to cheer myself up -- I'll write something brilliant and funny and heart-warming and endearing and totally, like, interesting and all that stuff! I am creative! I can write anything!

Um... no. Not today. Thus the urge toward self-expression is thwarted and diverted into the default behavior of searching on Google to see if someone else has something interesting to say.



I thought there might be some good sites out there on How To Make Exercising Interesting Even If It Is February, but they all involve me doing something that resembles hard work. So I found some other sites instead.

Equine Insanity wrote a good post about fear and animals.

The Ironic Catholic noted that a worldwide chocolate shortage brings people closer to God.



My new love Chart Porn posted a graph that charts women's earnings against men's earnings in the same field. Useful tip: don't go into banking if you're female.



An old post from An American Girl in Singapore led me to a fascinating study. You know how people of European ancestry used to complain that all Asians look alike? Turns out from the Asian perspective all Europeans look alike too. Caucasians and Asians don't examine faces in the same way.


A humorous site, stolen leveraged from PastaQueen, is the Malcolm Gladwell Book Generator. Create a best-seller, just by clicking!



And a video: Don't you ever interrupt me while I'm reading a book! (Stolen shamelessly from Librarians are weird.)


Photos of a hibiscus and condo on Maui, plus a random beach on Molokai. Sigh.

Disaster averted

Quote du jour
Captain Sheridan: Are you trying to cheer me up?
Susan Ivanova: No sir, wouldn't dream of it.
Captain Sheridan: Good, I hate being cheered up. It's depressing.
Susan Ivanova: In that case we're all going to die horrible, painful, lingering deaths.
Captain Sheridan: Thank you, I feel so much better now.
- Babylon 5


Sunday afternoons flat out stink.

The combination of a weekend ending and having to face the thought of going back to work is hard to take. Especially on winter afternoons, when it gets dark so early. For some reason, that makes it seem like Monday's coming all that much sooner.

Anyway, that's my only explanation for the sudden impulse I gave in to:


I don't even like frozen pizza. It's as if the imp of bad eating simply wanted me to buy something bad, anything. It was sick of me being good.

Funny thing is, I bought the stuff and took it home, then realized that I didn't want to actually eat it. The eyes and the taste buds conspired to convince me that they really, really needed this stuff. The stomach said "Hell no!"

So disaster averted. Maybe just the act of buying the stuff was enough to satiate the impulse, some kind of shopping therapy? I have no idea, but I'm not complaining about the money I spent. It's cheaper than a therapist.

Jogging along through week 4 of the C25k

Quote du jour: I've learned that you shouldn't go through life with a catcher's mitt on both hands; you need to be able to throw some things back.
-Maya Angelou

Goal of the month: Day 17 of my 30 days of throwing stuff back. Or out. I don't need all these possessions.
Done! Not as much as I'd like, but considering I got home wet, bedraggled, and grumpy, some is better than none.


Goal of the week: Out the door by 7:30. In the a.m., not the p.m. Sounds so simple.
Fail. Not nearly as bad a fail as yesterday (8:30 rather than 9:30) but still, worse than the day before (8). Wish I could report success on this goal, but I'm still struggling.

Exercise du jour: C25k week 4.

Brisk five-minute warmup walk, then:

• Jog 1/4 mile (or 3 minutes)
• Walk 1/8 mile (or 90 seconds)
• Jog 1/2 mile (or 5 minutes)
• Walk 1/4 mile (or 2-1/2 minutes)
• Jog 1/4 mile (or 3 minutes)
• Walk 1/8 mile (or 90 seconds)
• Jog 1/2 mile (or 5 minutes)

Done! Plus, a couple miles walking. Through the frackin' pouring rain. With, of course, the obligatory car splashing through a puddle lake and drenching me from head to foot in freezing cold water. Which maybe burns more calories than being drenched in warm water. What the hell. It's possible.

I don't fit

I don't fit in at Weight Watcher's. Last time I went to the local meeting, I realized I have a completely different focus from everyone else in the group. (At least, from everyone there who spoke up.) I really want to get fit while eating moderately. As far as I can tell, the focus for the rest of the gang is to diet, i.e. just get rid of these pounds as quickly as possible. Don't worry about exercising, don't worry about eating healthy food, just lose the weight NOW.

Covert Bailey makes a good point. "If someone told you the store was offering a sale of 10 pounds for 10 dollars, your first reaction would be '10 pounds of what?'" Likewise, I don't see why the emphasis is on getting rid of pounds regardless of how you do it. If you're not going to exercise while losing weight, then you're losing muscle as well as fat. If the emphasis were on losing a percentage of body fat, then I would be all in favor of this idea.

The local group has a lot of people who lose a lot of weight at the start. We're talking at least 5 pounds a week, every week. That is really not a radical amount for someone who's quite large. What bothers me is that the meetings start to feel like something out of The Biggest Loser competition:

A woman stands up and says "I lost 5 pounds this week!" Applause from the group.
Another woman stands up to say "And I lost 7 pounds this week!" More applause.
A third woman gets to her feet to proclaim "I lost 10 pounds this week!" Wild applause from the audience.
Then a smaller woman gets up and mumbles that she lost two pounds that week. The group claps perfunctorily a couple times.

It bugs me that -- probably unintentionally -- they end up comparing and judging people by the amount of weight lost. With people of different shapes, different physical conditions, and different starting places, how can you compare their progress at all? I always feel that getting fit or losing weight is a competition against yourself and no one else. But at these meetings, it feels like I'm competing against other people, or rather it feels as if they're competing against me. That makes no sense. It's not as if there were only one prize going to be handed out at the end -- we can all win.

Also, I have noticed a pattern. The women who come in and lose lots of weight right away seem to be doing so by stringent dieting, not by eating unprocessed foods and exercising. (I'm basing that on what the women themselves have been saying in the meetings.) The pattern seems to be that these women lose a lot of weight at the start. Then they stop mentioning how much weight they've lost. Then they stop showing up at the meetings. They don't come back.

One woman mentioned that she made it a goal to try to exercise for 15 minutes a day. "I don't actually do it," she said with a laugh. "But I do try. Sometimes." I don't know if the words on the page quite convey the tone in which this was said. I came away with the strong impression that no, she didn't really try. Or care. It was something she was 'supposed' to do, but there was no commitment to actually try.

Compared to this woman, I must come across as an exercise fanatic. On the other hand, I'm not fit enough to keep up with people who actually are in good shape. I don't 'fit' there either. I jog along at my slow pace, nodding at the people who pass me. If I were in better shape, being passed would be annoying. As it is, that's part of life and I accept it without a qualm. I just wish there were someone going my pace.

Okay, whine done.

Goal of the month: 30 days of throwing stuff back. Or out. I don't need all these possessions.
I especially don't need to save the diary from when I was 17. You cannot imagine the exquisite embarrassment that comes from reading such a document. And you never will, 'cause that sucker is now in a million tiny pieces. It's served its time. (Why does that sound like a prison sentence?) It was good to let it go.

Goal of the week: Out the door by 7:30. In the a.m., not the p.m. It can be done.
Yeah, maybe it can be done, though I'm starting to have serious doubts that it can be done by me. Luckily, I have friends (hey, don't look so surprised when I write that) who have kindly volunteered to nag me to go to bed at a reasonable hour. Which I'm going to do. No, really. I don't want them mad. You wouldn't like them when they're mad.
Exercise du jour: 200 squat challenge, week 3
13
16
11
11
16
Done!

The good news is I found the remote that I'd packed away 3 years ago

see more Lolcats and funny pictures

Goal for the month: The 13th day of the 30-day pUrGe Of StUfF fRoM mY lIfE.
Did 10 hours worth of purging, shredding, procrastinating sorting and getting rid of things I no longer want in my life.

Summary: week of Ornish and yoga

Very stressful week, working very long hours and not enough time for sleep.

At first I thought that it was just evil chance that I'd get hit with this load of work when I was trying a little extra exercise. Now I'm wondering if maybe that was the point God was trying to make. The yoga sessions were the only change that I made this week; I gave in and ate quick (bad, high fat/sugar) food for energy or to shut the stomach up while I typed. Didn't lose any pounds this week.

Despite all the stress, the yoga helped. Not on the scale, though. (Though since I didn't gain despite all the bad eating, maybe it did help. Hard to tell.)

I do think it helped me fall asleep once I went to bed; usually, after a stressful day, I tend to lie awake stressing some more, but this week I dropped off right away.

So... I didn't see any dramatic improvement, but I didn't slide back during this week. And despite all the long work hours and short sleep hours, I feel pretty good about life. Though I need to schedule sleep in there somewhere.

And the week of Ornish quotes -- I need to change my behavior when chaos reigns around me. I tend to get resentful, which is natural but unhelpful. My work comes at the process, after a long line of other people's jobs, and if other people take longer than expected, the pressure is on me to complete the job on schedule even if that means working late hours and going short on sleep. Geez. I can't even describe it without resentment coming into the paragraph. That needs to change.

Maybe I'll just stand outside in the rain... I mean, this /is/ Oregon...

This old plumber came out to visit this old house and told this old maid “Yep, you’re right. You don’t have a working shower.”

Nice to know he agreed with my assessment, but could he do anything about it?

“Wellp,” he thought. “For about $300, we could maybe take out a pipe, put in a new one. If that doesn’t work, for another couple hundred we could take apart your bedroom wall and re-do the valve. And if that doesn’t work, you might want to get new plumbing.”

Off to bang my head softly against the wall...

Plus which, I have visitors coming to visit. I'm planning strategies to divert most of the family gatherings to neutral territory, but I don't know how much time I'll have for exercising in the next few days. Except for exercising my self-restraint. I understand that jumping to conclusions is good exercise as well.

When feet meet treat?

see more Sports Pictures

Brief dog story: Once upon a time in the dog park, my dog was trotting along quite happily when for no reason she pulled up lame. She limped over to me and held up her sore paw, with a look of utter confidence that I could make it better.

Well, I'm doing the same thing: limping over to my blog hoping someone out there knows how to make it better.

Ever now and every then, the ball of my foot starts to hurt. This has happened before, with different shoes, different trails. It even happened last year. (See? If I hadn't been blogging, I wouldn't have remembered. )

Sunday I was trotting along and wham suddenly the ball of the foot starts to hurt bad. I slowed to a walk, and after a few minutes the pain went away and I could jog again (slowly). Afterward, I did the ice and vitamin I. The foot felt swollen, but not painful.


Then, I was just walking along and again, ouch. And again, then the pain went away.

Now I'm sitting here and I can feel the foot is swollen, it's tender, but it doesn't actually hurt. Maybe I can run on it and it won't get mad at me. Maybe if I run on a trail rather than that mean nasty concrete? Maybe if I promise it ice and ibuprofen and a lolipop it'll be okay? Maybe...

Is this something that can be cured with magical stretching exercises? I mean, it keeps coming back regardless of the shoes I'm wearing, so it must be something I'm doing wrong.

Argh.

Exercise du jour: 2 miles jogging. Maybe.

Fail. The foot doesn't hurt, but despite all the I & I, the swelling isn't going away. I'll try again Wednesday.
Wednesday: Fail. Foot actually hurts if I don't pamper it. Just my luck, a foot that thinks it's a primadonna.
Thursday:
Done! Finally. Ran on woodchip trail and the fancy what's-it stuff that Nike uses on its track -- some kind of rubber from the soles of shoes. When the damn foot hurt, I walked. When it didn't, I jogged slowly. At the time, I thought there was a lot of walking, but looking back it wasn't all that bad a pace.
Now off to reward myself with a glass of red wine and an ice pack. (I figure it's good to apply pain killers internally as well as externally. Be thorough, that's my motto.)

Not that I'm in a rut or anything

It's Wednesday.
Again.
Could've sworn I just did Wednesday last week. Only back from vacation one week and I'm in a rut.

Exercise du jour: 2 miles jogging. Which I also did last week. Geez.
Could really use some gratuitous excitement here. Instead, I'm off to work. Will try to get the damn exercise done some damn time during the damn day. Check back later... much later...
Done! Amazing how running changes the mood. I forgot to bring my workout clothes with me to work, so at first I thought I'd have to put jogging off. But since this was my day for working late, I knew 'later' would translate to 'never'. And I refused to admit the possibility of never.
It's amazing how everything that went wrong turned out ending right:
I went across the street and bought new workout clothes -- which turned out to be 40% off.
It was too hot to run on the track -- but the shady forest trail was green, leafy and cool, perfect for running in my geeky new clothes.
In fact, it was quite a nice little run. I went back to work and sat through all the dull, late-hour meetings feeling positively good about life.

Thanks to XKCD for the cartoon.

High School and the Passive-Aggressive Subconscious

Sometimes my subconscious mind still thinks it's in high school. It gets passive-aggressively annoying.

You know the kind of thing. Usually encountered when dealing with teenagers of the female persuasion, but not invariably. They mope, they sigh, they look mournful. But if you ask what's wrong? The invariable answer: "Oh, nothing."

[deep sigh]

They expect you to guess what the problem is.

For heaven's sake. Things have come to a pretty pass when my subconscious expects me to read its mind. It's depressed about something, but I'm supposed to guess why. I'm going to assume it's work-related.

Times like this, my subconscious wants to drink red wine and read Neruda, Borges, or Rilke, poets who convince her that there's more to life than a 9-7 job every day. (When I was in high school, I used to skip algebra to go downtown and drink espresso and read C.S. Lewis, Jack Kerouac, and Gregory Corso, and try to convince myself that there was Life After High School. Turns out it's called High School 2: The Saga Continues. Just as well I didn't know that then.)

I mean, take last Thursday. The flesh was willing, but the spirit decided it was depressed and didn't want to work out. It just wanted to drink red wine and read poetry.

The logical side of the brain pointed out that Exercise Would Make You Feel Better Already, but to no avail. I was trying to lift a lead zeppelin with a weakling motivation.

I tried to be practical and try to figure out the problem. What the hell was worth the prima donna act? Sure, I'm less than thrilled with work. Suck it up, subconscious. You'd be more depressed if I were out of work and you had to deal with me sitting around the house all day, wearing scruffy clothing and slouching around.

Didn't work. Ended up doing Thursday's exercise on Friday night, just before midnight.

I hate it when the inner demons win out over the health & fitness part of my conscious mind. If my sub-c pulled this trick this up on a regular basis, I'd send it down to the local therapist's office for conversation and medication. Since it only acts like this once every semester, usually around mid-terms blue moon, I suppose I should let it have the occasional day off. Show mercy in the hopes that it will see sense. I mean, as frustrating as life gets sometimes, at least I'm not in high school.

Exercise du jour: Still trying for that 12 miles of cycling

Keep it simple, Merry

see more Lolcats and funny pictures


I'm lowering my standards.
All I ask is that I do some kind of damn exercise.

Cranky? I've been working 12-17 hour days for the last week. Haven't had a day off in a couple weeks. HELL yes I'm cranky. The end is in sight. I'm hoping to get the next weekend off. Not too soon. I've barely gone near a vegetable; my only criterion for food selection is that it be fast. And yes, I've gained a few pounds and need to sleep for a couple days. On the plus side, my whining skills are in fine fettle. (What the hell is a fettle, anyway?)

Anywhere... where was I? Oh yes, of course. Whining. Anyway, the point is, tonight I'm going to run two miles. Oh all right. One damn mile. That's all I ask.

Exercise du jour: Running 1 mile.
Done! One thing about setting my goals low, it's much less stress worrying about whether I'll make them. Plus, the thought came to me about about 1/2 mile, what I'm doing here is mostly training the mind, not the muscles. Extend my mental stamina and the rest is easy peasy. (More or less. Mostly more.)

p.s. Fettle (n): State or condition of health, fitness, wholeness, spirit or form.
Next step: look up words like 'health' and 'fitness.'

This IS my cheerful face. You got a problem with that?

see more dog and puppy pictures

Okay, so here's the hand of cards that I've been dealt.

I've got:

• a boss who thinks I do a crap job. (Five years doing this job and suddenly I'm no good?)
  
• a dog so sick that she will let cats walk through her yard without even lifting her head.
• so much work to do that I've worked 3 out of the last 4 weekends, and I will need to work another 3 to get things done. (Tie this one back to the crap job. There are limits to how many 12 hour days I can put in and still deliver perfection.)

And all I can think to say is, I am being CHEERful, damn it! I refuse to let this get the better of me.

I can choose how I will react to this hand of cards. Nowhere is it written that I have to wail and bemoan my fate except for on the blog. So long as I can get some sleep, some exercise, and a chance to hug the sick puppy, then I will get through this.

I've shortened my expectations for the day. I'm posting it here to make sure it gets done.

Exercise du jour: One single simple damn walk at lunchtime. That's all I'm asking.
Done! Well, if you stretch your definition of 'lunchtime' to 10 in the evening, anyway. Thank God for Manuel, or I'd never have done 20 minutes of walking. (And he had no problem with being put away and ignored for so long, either.)
p.s. And if it wasn't for the fact that I'd pasted this goal up on the blog, I would never have done any exercise at all today.

I have to ask, or I won't get a lunch break. (Not that my job would deny me, but I would. I'm feeling pressure to get these manuals out now, and maybe get home before 10 pm, and that tends to take precedence over taking care of my basic needs, like a walk. Which is stupid. I know.)

see more dog and puppy pictures