S'more Heaven

Against all weather odds, Todd and I went camping this past weekend. The forecasts were pretty dire, including rain, rain, and more rain, then oh! it's Sunday and you're ready to come home, so, dry.

But we totally got lucky, because the only rain was on Saturday morning at about 5:00 a.m., when we were snug as two bugs in our tent. It's amazing to me, when I consider the me that I was before I started dating Todd, that I actually enjoy camping, but with Todd, I really do. It's such a quiet activity. We don't take radios or anything that makes noise, and we putter around our little campsite, and cook, and sit by the fire until I fall asleep in my chair, then we snuggle into sleeping bags. What's not to like?

This trip was a bit different because a couple of our good friends met us for half of the trip, bringing their almost-four-year old with them. He's a hilarious kid, who says "Yikes!" alot, and my new favorite expression: "You can say that again don't say that again." Hilarious. The only thing is, if he tells you I fed him pizza with pickles and macaroni on it, it's a total lie. It was peppers and pepperoni, I swear.

We're back to civilization today and already scheming about our next trip. Civilization sucks.

101 Things: Day 400

Well, since I am woefully behind on blogging these days, it shouldn't surprise you that I am writing my Day 400 post about a week late. But really, when you're talking about 1,001 days, what is a few days?

Unfortunately, the past 100 days haven't been very productive. (Obama has accomplished WAY more than me. I am a slacker.)

Lose 20 pounds. Woohoo! I am on my way. I had really hoped to get to the "lose 30 pounds" mark during this 100 days, but alas, it was not meant to be. I was on a big roll, and then after vacation -- although, oddly not WHILE on vacation -- I hit a big crash and burn and then had to deal with the same 3 pounds going off then coming back on for nearly two months. Bummer. I think I'm on track now, I've actually lost 23.6, so I'm really, really hopeful that by Day 500 I'll be at 40 pounds lost.

Take at least 3 yoga classes. I've mentioned this one a few times, already. I am a semi-regular yoga-class-taker now, and have bought my own mat which I am anxious to use. I like yoga, I like it a lot. And even if the guy who teaches my class does freakily resemble a pretzel at times, I am determined to keep on keepin' on.

And, yeah, that's it. But seriously, there are so many things in the works, I have great expectations for the next 100 days. I'm still going through the Artist's Way program, and I'm THIS close to settling on my novel idea (frightening!). In June, I will have completed my one year of violin lessons (and I'm going to keep going). I've been trying and trying to go on my Cave Hill Cemetary walk, and I think I'll get it in soon, probably combined with my little solo picnic. My roller blades are sitting out ready to go, and best of all? I am SO going to see Mellencamp in July.

So watch out, Day 500, I'm gonna kick your ass!

This Post Doesn't Even Have a Title

I wish I were going to write something beautiful and insightful tonight, but yeah, I don't think that's happening. It's Derby Week in the Hall of Justice, which means light dockets and lots of leaving early. Last week was kind of a hard week, both work-wise and social-commitment-wise, so I'm taking it easy this week.

Here are some things I am loving this week:

Yoga. Believe it or not, I like it, and I think it's even exercise.

Korean food. Had it for the first time tonight, and it was mighty tasty. I ate a fermented black bean, and I would totally do it again.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season Two. I'm rewatching, since I got Seasons One and Two for my birthday. Ahh, the good old days, when Angel was hot, Buffy was a virgin, and Spike was still deliciously bad.

Dollhouse. Oh, Joss Whedon, how I love you. You have made me love yet another show, even though you made the poor choice of Eliza Dushku as the star.

My new air popcorn-popper. I haven't tried it out yet, but I'm super excited about it, since I'm a weirdo who likes neither butter, oil, or salt on my popcorn.

You Think I'm Just Lounging About, But It's SO Not True

I'm so very tired, you're only getting a skeleton-y post today with a smidge of what I've been up to . . .

1. Canoeing on Saturday. Not the best exercise in the world, but such a gorgeous day. Canoeing, and even more so kayaking, are two things that Todd introduced me to that I have really loved.

2. Easter Sunday. Big church crowd. Lots of brass fanfare-ing. Lots of bad food-eating at Brunch. Tried a walk in the park later, but it didn't make up for all those bazillion points.

3. Skipped Weight Watchers meeting for first time since January 1. (See above re: Easter brunch.) Back on the wagon now.

4. Saw foot doctor on Monday. Bad, very bad. More shots, maybe surgery.

5. Today, yoga. Holy Namast-oly, was that hard. I fully expect to be dead by tomorrow morning.

6. Also today -- I broke a nail while swimming. Don't ask.

A Brief Addendum to Yesterday's Post

I've been saying that my legs are really achy, and I don't think my husband believes me. Last night they were SO achy, I dreamed they had been cut off and reattached.

Joining the Club

A few years ago, I decided I was going to walk a 4K race, one of the Polar Bear Grand Prix races they have here in the Winter. I don't really know why I thought this was a good idea, I know I didn't do much work to get ready for it.

So on the morning of the race, I start out walking, and realize that there is no one, and I do mean no one, who walks as slow as me. I panic, and decide that I don't want to be last, so I'll RUN the race. I reasoned to myself that people always talk about the adrenaline, etc., and I figured that would get me through the race and maybe I would beat at least a few of the slowest walkers.

Well, adrenaline got me through about three fourths of one of the four Ks, and I called Todd to come get me.

After that, I very publicly denounced the whole "race" culture, and swore that I'd never attempt to walk one again, and in fact would never run anywhere unless there was something really big and scary chasing me -- like maybe that #41 from the UConn women's basketball team.

But recently it's started to bug me, that while I have surprised myself with bike riding, and swimming, and kayaking, and camping, and a whole host of things, I have never gotten over that hump of at least being able to run around the block.

Then I was told by more than one person that running will "melt the pounds off like butter," and that it is a "brutally effecient" exercise that gets big results fast.

Since I'm going for that 77-pound weight loss in one week, I figure I should give it a try. So I've been doing the Couch to 5K program.

The first week I handled the 60 second running intervals okay, and even increased my speed a little. Today I did the first day of week 2, which moves up to 90 second running intervals. And let me tell you, those extra 30 seconds KICKED MY ASS.

I thought I was going to have to apologize to the woman on the treadmill next to me for breathing so loud, then I realized she was wearing headphones, so maybe that muffled my gasping a little.

And a few times I felt myself moving farther and farther toward the end of the treadmill, and had to make myself use enough umph to not fall off the back. I often seem to veer off to the side a bit, too, so I'm thinking my run is not the most attractive-looking thing in the workout room.

And I absolutely cannot imagine running for a WHOLE 5K. Or even for three minute intervals, which I think comes up next week. So all you readers out there, all FOUR of you, please keep your fingers crossed that I can get through the whole two-month program without breaking a leg, or having a stroke or something. And I'll let you know when I hit that 77-pound week.

But -- boy howdy, are my legs sore.

And You Thought I Wasn't Interested in Basketball

I have watched one basketball game all year . . . hell, one sporting event all year, period. Apparently I am bad luck because SHEESH. This UL/UCONN game is pretty depressing.

And since we all know that I know nothing about sports, let me just say this: HOLY CRAP THAT ONE PLAYER FROM UCONN IS SCARY! That #41? If I had ever been inclined toward dating women, she would scare that notion right out of me.

That is SO not nice, I know. But, really. Someone should tell her that she would benefit greatly from a nice hairstyling and a deftly applied smoky eye. And the color of that uniform? It does NOTHING for her.

See? I CAN have an intelligent conversation about sports.