missing him was dark gray/all alone

Morning, chicks.

It’s a rainy, dark kind of place in the Second City today.

I woke up in the pitch black dark at five am (JW, I whispered. You said you had to be up at 5:00. I have a knack for not needing an alarm clock- something JW probably hates when what he means by 5:00 is that he set the alarm for 15 minutes past that) and then stretched out for a few minutes before rolling out of bed and into my bathing suit.

Luckily, getting rained on doesn’t seem so bad when you’re about to hop into a pool anyway.

Several dozen slow laps later, I’m drinking a new smoothie concoction (note to self: freezing and unfreezing said smoothie will make it a strange texture) and trying to summon the strength to go back outside into the damp city.

Some mornings seem better spent in bed, if you ask me.

Unfortunately, this doesn’t happen to be one of them, so I’ll have to locate my umbrella (why, friends, after 28 years, is finding an umbrella still such a chore for me? I’m going to invest in a gross of them- it’ll take me awhile to lose all of those), throw on some rain boots, and head into the thick of it all.

Unless someone wants to come over and watch movies with me instead.

Any takers?

See you on the other side of the work week, chickadees.

 

Questionable tactics, good results.

Morning chickens!

I’m running (typical) late this morning, but I did manage to make it to the Y and swim one blissful mile in my own lane, so I’m feeling pretty good.

I’m actually sending you elsewhere for your daily dose of the Second City today, since I blogged for my sister over at Garlic, My Soul this morning.

Garlic, My Soul is dedicated to delicious food, and includes beautiful pictures, fun recipes, and general culinary adventure from my little sissy who lives in LA.

Sometimes she lets me hang out over there with her, because she’s nice and also accommodating to her bossy older sister.

She’s a keeper.

Today I’m writing about near disaster, questionable kitchen tactics,  and a new vegetable recipe Ky and I drummed up.

So check us out, please.

And enjoy this beautiful Thursday (the weekend’s almost here, chickadees!)

ever happened to me.

And just like that, Monday’s at it again.

After a long, lazy weekend in which I mostly hung out on my couch and ate vegetables, I think I’m ready to get back out there.

Just five more minutes though, okay?

*****
This morning, I woke up early and dragged myself to the pool, where I worked out another mile of laps.

I had a lane to myself the entire time.

It’s a sign that today’s gonna bring good things, chickadees.

*****

Speaking of today, chickens, guess what I was doing one year ago?

 

That picture still makes me laugh.

And is the only wedding photo I have on display in my home (this is part on purpose, part will-I-ever-order-my-wedding-photos? probably not).

This one’s a pretty good depiction of our let’s-get-married-but-just-as-importantly-let’s-have-an-awesome-dance-party:

 

It honestly feels equally like it’s been 12 years and 12 seconds since that day, and so, I’ll settle for 12 months.

Happy Anniversay, JW- thanks for being such a good sport.

And dance partner.

And husband.

And also for always making the coffee.

He’s got a lot of skills, folks.

And with that, I’m off to make my way through the crush to my cubicle.

Enjoy the sunshine if you’ve got it- it’s the start of a brand new week, chicks.

 

 

hitting the lanes.

Morning, chickadees.

And thanks for waiting yesterday out with me.

It was just what I needed.

I took the day off, to generally get my life in order after so many moons away from my routine.

Also, so I could catch up on my DVR.

It was an all around success.

*****

This morning, I got up early, gathered up my gear, and headed to the gym.

For a swim.

Which I haven’t done in months and months.

I figured a little low impact cardio is a good way to get back into the game.

I’m real far out of the game, in case you were wondering.

After struggling into my suit (it wasn’t pretty, chicks), I hit the pool and started swimming slow laps, aiming for a mile.

It was then, chicks, that I realized that some things just never change.

As I maneuvered into a turn at the end of the lane, I noticed something out of the corner of my eyes.

It was the infamous “I-use-hand-flippers-wear-nude-swim-shorts-and-also-hang-around-on-the-deep-end-of-the-pool-like-a-creep” guy.

He was floating around the bottom of the pool, looking up in my direction.

In his defense, he appears to have lost the nude shorts.

But still.

I breathed a sigh of relief, when after a half hour, he finally hauled himself and all his apparatuses out of the water.

A nice, calm pregnant woman hopped in next to me.

And proceeded to lap me.

I’ve got some work to do, chickens.

For now, I try to remember the way to work and what it’s like to sit still for eight hours.

Enjoy the sunshine if you’ve got it.

going for the gold.

Morning, chickens!

I woke up this morning, somewhat surprised that I seem to already have made it to Wednesday.

And that I haven’t physically been to my office since last Thursday.

Here’s to hoping I remember the way there.

Yesterday’s jury duty was highly uneventful, and included working on projects, reading, and being forced to watch a television that WAS NOT showing the Olympics.

It is extremely difficult to do one’s civic duty when your patriotism is being stifled.

However, in the late afternoon I was dismissed, handed a check for $17, and headed home to catch up on some business.

The jury holding pen, it turns out, does not have wireless access.

A bummer, if you will.

Once JW and I were both home and fed, we turned our attention to the Olympic games, which are basically the only thing I’m capable of turning my attention to for the next couple of weeks.

I love nothing more than competition. Even when the news spoils the gold winners for me, which has been happening far too much for my liking this particular Olympics.

Some of us want to be surprised, everybody who doesn’t seem to care.

Next time this happens, I’m headed off the grid except for race viewings.

Or at least off of Twitter.

In any case, after watching the teenagers grab gold in gymnastics and watching Michael Phelps glide to his freaking 19th medal, I was ready for bed.

And tonight, I’m ready to do some swimming of my own (although at a remarkably slower pace).

I’m feeling ready to roll, chickadees.

Enjoy the sunshine if you’ve got it.

 

giving it some intention

Chickens, last night I did hot yoga for the first time.

But before that, I headed out to the lake with VB and CJ for my second swim of the season.

I’m riding the fitness wave.

After a steady, refreshing half mile (in which my swimming partners let me swim nearly to shore- somehow I missed the point at which stopping would have made sense), I packed up my wetsuit, headed home, threw on my best guess at what an appropriate steamy yoga class outfit was, and headed to the studio.

Let me first say that I have never sweated so much in my life.

Because it’s true.

I continuously tried to mop up my mat and my face with my towel, but eventually I gave up, because it simply was not helping.

I just focused on not sliding across the room into a wall.

The yoga style was Vinyasa, which means that you flow through a series of poses (think lots of upward and downward facing dog).

This is my preferred kind of yoga, since you don’t stop moving.

Even though it meant a fair amount of slipping.

After 75 minutes of sweating, posing, and breathing deeply, we did Savasana pose (where you lay on your back with your eyes closed) with lavender towels over our faces, and our instructor came around and rubbed some kind of essential oil on our necks.

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While I generally hate this kind of staying still with my eyes closed, at this point, I was exhausted, and will say that for the first time, I enjoyed this part of class.

Maybe because I knew cool air was only a few moments away.

But maybe not.

Hot yoga might be my new religion, chickadees.

You learn something new every day.

 

Hitting reset.

And it’s already, thankfully, the middle of the week.

Awesome.

The past couple of days, when I haven’t been out until the wee hours of the morning, drinking too much wine and waking up bleary-eyed, I’ve been focused on Getting.Back.On.Track.

Which means that after my struggle with last week’s 8k, I decided it made sense to re-focus myself on, as Fergie would say, my fitness.

I started Monday by heading back to the gym (which I barely recognized) and hitting the treadmill for 50 continuous minutes.

I admit, I did not run for all of them.

And I huffed and puffed and moved a little slower than I’m used to moving.

But it was a start.

Yesterday, despite my under-slept and over-served ways the night before, I packed a bag of all of my swimming gear and headed into work with determination to hit the lake.

I actually wriggled into my swimsuit in a panic at 7:00 AM, just to make sure it still fit.

Thankfully, it did.

Sort of, anyway.

We trekked out to Ohio State beach after work, looked at all of the swimmers in tri-training, and felt, maybe, that this could be a difficult journey back into the water.

But it was 100 degrees out.

And some of us were wearing wetsuits.

So we had to get in the water or sweat to death on the shore.

After a year of not wearing a wetsuit, it is easy to forget how un-graceful it is to struggle into one.

I remember now.

CJ, EH, VB and I all hit the water for a half mile, and while it took me a few minutes to get back into a rhythm (and 1/2 mile felt a little bit like eternity), I’m glad to say that I remember why I like it so much.

Here’s to hitting that reset button, chickens.

 

 

 

landlubber.

This morning, I went for a swim.

When I got to the gym, after struggling into my ridiculous suit (seriously, I’ve never met a suit with less give), I hopped into a fairly empty pool and got down to it.

I finished the first couple laps without too much of a struggle, good since I haven’t been swimming in over a week.

And then, I noticed I was swimming next to a Crazy Person.

It was a fairly big guy, swimming both noisily and messily (is that even a thing, mess-ily?) in the lane to the left of me. He was splashing all over the place, creating waves, and flip turning so forcefully that he was causing a mini tsunami, which then sent me careening across my lane.

Thankfully, my lane was empty, so this just meant swimming against the current, salmon style.

I would liken him to some kind of thrashing shark.

Maybe even a small killer whale, after being provoked.

It definitely made things more interesting, to say the least.

There’s nothing like riding a wave in the pool before sunrise.

After awhile, the great white shark impersonator exited, and I had the pool to myself for awhile.

Then around six thirty, the Y turned into a pool party, complete with full lanes and intense swimmers.

Luckily, I was almost finished by then, and decided to get out of there.

The pool was a strange place today.

I’ll stay a landlubber for awhile, thanks very much.

 

Desperate Times

Last night I had plans to get in the lake and get back to my workout regime.

It’s been over a week, and I was feeling both chubby and lazy.

Also, that aforementioned wedding is creeping right up, so now is not the time to falter.

All day long I was looking forward to getting in the water and stretching out my limbs.

Plus, I had new pink goggles that I was excited to try out.

It’s the little things, you guys.

Around 4:00 yesterday afternoon though, panic set in.

I forgot my bathing suit.

How this could be, I wasn’t really sure, since I’d managed to pack every other last item you’d need for a swim in the lake (and it’s not a short list, chickens).

After hustling around and discussing my dilemma with several of my coworkers (who probably were confused about why I would openly admit to being bathing suit-less on my way to a swim, but I am shameless), I decided there was a way to accomplish this task.

My stubborn streak refused to budge. I could have headed to the Y for a run, but I just wasn’t feeling it.

I wanted to swim.

I had the new goggles, after all.

So I hiked down to the lake with my tri-team, and simply put the wetsuit over my workout capris and my sports bra.

And then I swam a half mile.

In my new pink goggles, which are pretty much awesome.

And not just because they’re pink.

When we got out of the lake, I wiggled out of my wetsuit, and tried my best to towel off a few spots.

Then I threw a t-shirt on, and strolled back to the El in lake-soaked pants and a t-shirt over an extremely wet sports bra.

I want you to think about that vision.

It wasn’t pretty.

But I managed to make it home in one piece.

And I won’t be forgetting my bathing suit again any time soon.

That’s it for the morning, chickadees.

five good things: high holidays edition

It’s supposed to be 95 degrees out again today, and also, I think I’ve jacked up my shoulder, probably from an overdoing of kettlebells and yoga-ing and lake swimming.

So even though I like all those things, I’ll have to take another break today, since not being able to get into a pair of pants without assistance is probably a sign that you should cool it.

Yes, Mom, I’m listening to my body.

And it says, let you arm dangle uselessly by your side.

Fine, I will.

In any case, despite this ridiculous August weather, and my irritating injury, I have decided to stick with the bright side of things, and thus, I bring you five good things on this sweltering morning:

1. It’s a a short week for me. And any week that’s only 4 days is a success in and of itself, if you ask me.

2. At the end of this short week, I’m headed to CT to see all my delightful family and friends who I do not get my hands on nearly enough. I’m so excited to spend some time with cousins and aunts and grandparents and uncles and pizza and seafood (they’re like family to me, really). East Coast, here I come!

3. Tomorrow = JW’s birthday. And thank God, since I was starting to feel old. In honor of his 27th birthday, we’ll be toasting with beer and fish&chips at Mrs. Murphy and Sons Irish Bistro. Now I just have to work a birthday cake in there somewhere, and we’ll be all set.

4. It’s SHARK WEEK. Shark Week, in case you know nothing about me, is my favorite holiday. So far, I’ve been treated to Jaws Comes Home, Rogue Sharks, and Summer of the Sharks. All a good start to my favorite week to have HD.

Beware the bull shark, chickens. It can get in your lake.

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5. I’ve already gotten a couple of response cards back in, which means JW and I won’t be hanging out at our wedding solo. Now I’m really starting to get excited to see all my friends/families in a month and a half.

A month and a half?!

When did that happen?

Stay tuned for the month of the wedding, chickadees, and please, bear with me.

Have a good Tuesday, chicks!