Convenience? Check.

All talk no action. That's what's going on here.

After going on and on about Latitudes---which was quite honestly, awesome--we have decided to stick it out at the Y. Why? Because I'm lazy.

Not in the sit-on-the-couch-eating-chips kinda lazy way. Although I have been known to do that on occasion. It's more lazy in the I'm-driving-all-the-freakin'-time way. If you have ever doubled as a chauffer, you know that of which I speak.

Days when you go from dance lessons to guitar lessons to the grocery store to the post office to the dentist and then back home again? When you wish you had Depends on so you don't have to use some random public bathroom?

Lazy in that way.

Because, truth be told, having a gym 5 minutes away as opposed to 15 minutes away makes a big difference in the course of a week. In 4 round trips to the gym, that's a savings of 40 minutes. Not insignificant in my book.

So we are forgoing the beautiful locker rooms, larger facilities and expanded class schedule for the closeness of the Y.

But we will probably avoid the locker room. At least for a while.

Harder Than It Looks

Still swimming. Still biking. Still running. Just in case you thought I had keeled over from all that exertion.

Just not bloggin' about it. Truth is, it's harder than I thought it would be. The exercise and the blogging.

I have always loved writing. Ever since I was a little kid. Creative writing and I got a long great. Math and I? Not so much.

When I was in high school, I had this amazing English teacher. She really saw how much I loved to write, and encouraged me by having me take extra classes, and do extra writing to keep the creative juices flowing. Which was kind of good since they "advised" me not to take any math above trigonometry when I was a junior. Something about calculus being beyond me. Go figure.

My mom had this friend who did career counseling when we lived on Governors Island. When I graduated from the High School of Music and Art, she gave me a "session" as a gift which was really nice of her. She let me come and take all those aptitude tests that point you in the right direction before you start off on your college career.

There were all kinds of sections. Analogies, math patterns, writing, the works. Most of it was pretty enjoyable. Except for probably the math. When I see lots of words together I see descriptive possibilities, spelling patterns, latin roots. When I see numbers I glaze over like a 5'3" donut. And then I completely tune out.

So it was not suprising when the results came back. When asked to identify number patterns I had scored in the 20th percentile. Ouch.

When asked to freeform write about what my favorite movie was, I wrote 10 pages just because. She told me I should do something creative. And when I saw anything involving math, I should run very fast in the opposite direction.

Which actually did come back to haunt me later on in my working life. I was working for an insurance company (how's that for creativity), and was vying for a job in the marketing department. Standard company policy was to have all applicants take an aptitude test. Which was almost all about numbers. Which I bombed. Mostly because I got totally bored in the middle and started drawing on the back of the packet.

When my boss saw the results I think he was a little shocked. I mean, I don't come across as a moron, but I apparently test as though I might be one. So he told the hiring manager that I had done so badly because I forgot to wear my contacts that day. Which I didn't actually wear. And he hired me. For a job that involved absolutely no numbers. **Loved it**

In any case, the exercise is going decently well and the creative inspiration to bore you with the details of that exercise comes and goes.

I am still holding out hope that I can break the 40 minute 5K next weekend in Portland, Maine. After that, I need to get cracking on the details of the triathalon. Buy a spandex outfit to swim/bike/run in. That ought to be interesting. Take a class on how to change a tire on my bike in case I get a flat. That could prove to be even more interesting than the spandex.

Stay tuned and thanks for reading along :)

Deal Breaker?

Open letter to the person in charge at our (maybe) new gym:

I would like to start by saying that you have a great facility. Fabulous instructors so far, a wonderful class offering, awesome machines and lovely locker rooms. Helpful staff, great babysitting room--I could go on and on.

There is one complaint I would like to lodge. It pertains to your pool.

Usually when people swim they like to see where they are going. You know, a few feet ahead of them and all that? So you don't smack your head on the wall. Or bump into someone else who you can't see until you are on top of them.

You see, we went for a swim tonight. And it was a pretty good thing there was no one else in either of the lanes we swam in. Considering that there was so much chlorine in the pool it looked almost like lemonade. I exaggerate slightly, but you see the point.

Cloudy with a chance of collision. With the wall.

Please mention to the person who is responsible for maintaining the pool that when chlorinating, the idea is not to kill every living germ in any and every body of water within a 30 mile radius. Including the Atlantic Ocean.

Probably not a deal breaker, but it does give one pause when considering switching from a facility whose pool is it's main attraction.

Thank you for your kind consideration.

Signed,
Itchy swimmer with a huge bump on her head.

Shaking It Up

Loving the new gym. Really and truly.

Last Sunday we went to check it out. Ran on the treadmill whilst watching the Patriots have their heads handed to them by the Baltimore Ravens. I had never run on a treadmill before. It wasn't too bad. Except for the part when I was done and I still felt like I was moving. When I hopped off I swear the whole gym started swaying. Kind of like getting off a boat and are still rocking while you are standing on firm ground. Luckily it didn't last too long or I might have fallen over on my face. That would have been a tiny bit embarrassing.

Monday night Adrienne and I checked out a spinning class. Very nice. Fantastic instructor. Tons of sweat. Me likey.

Last night was the best, though. I have not done step aerobics in forever. Adrienne thought it would be fun to try. So off we went.

Now the only complaint I have so far is about Latitudes is the parking lot. Picture a race track. Then visualize it in a parking lot. That's what you have at this gym. Crazy drivers. Packed parking lot. Heart in mouth. Stopping short as someone cuts you off trying to find a spot.

Monday night we arrived at what must be the busiest hour for them-6pm. Nutsoville. I ended up dropping Adrienne off at the front door to get bikes in the spinning class. I circled the parking lot for almost ten solid minutes before finding a spot behind the building, about as far away from the front door as you can get. I considered myself lucky to get a spot that did not involve a fender bender, and grabbed it.

Last night--not so bad. Monday must be the day everyone vows to themselves to work off the chocolate cake they inhaled over the weekend, or something. I guess Wednesday is just not that kind of day.

The music was awesome. Loved getting back into the aerobics groove. My daughter did not love it so much. Five minutes into the class I looked over to find she was doing the syncopated version of step.

That is to say, off the beat. Shortly thereafter she put her step away, told me she was getting on a bike, and snuck out of class under waving arms and between dancing, sweating "old ladies". That's what we were. Apparently step is for boring grownups.

But whatever. It was great exercise, massively sweat inducing, and greatly motivating. And I can only imagaine all that cardio will help out with running in the end. Right??

Definitely.

The Right Equipment

February 5th, 2010 will mark my 3rd attempt to complete a 5K in under 40 minutes. 'Cept one thing. It's gonna be friggin' cold out. The Jolly Jaunt was no picnic, mind you. It had snowed the day before and was windy as all get out.

But an outdoor race. In February. In Maine???

I only registered for the race because registration for that allowed us early registration for the Polar Bear Tri in May. But now that we are registered (my daughter and I) she wants to actually RUN in it. Yikes.

Which means that sometime this week I will be making a trip to REI to check out those items that people who like to run outside in the cold USE when they run outside in the cold.

Like long running pants. I prefer to run in nylon capris. Just because. Pretty sure that is not going to cut it this time.

Maybe some Under Armour? That stuff is awesome except for one thing. It's kinda tight. Which is nice if you want to show off your curves. But when you have rather large......curves.....it doesn't really allow you to feel super comfortable. I prefer to hide my light under a bushel so to speak. My husband bought me what was supposed to be a running shirt for my birthday. A hot pink XL Under Armour short sleeved shirt.

He usually tries to pretend that something looks good on me, even if it doesn't. Twenty years of living with a person will teach you a thing or two about how they will react if you make disparaging comments about their clothing and how it looks on them.

When I came downstairs in this shirt, he didn't even try. That's how I know it was pretty bad.

So I am off to find the appropriate "stuff" to make running outside in the winter manageable. Not enjoyable, just manageable. I am not sure anything could make it enjoyable except maybe a motorized scooter. Or alcohol. Or both.

Considering that I will not run outside again until May, I wonder if I could just rent the stuff?

Frosticles

The holiday season did less damage than I had expected. The net gain? One pound. Not bad considering I subsisted on Chinese food, chocolate chip cookie dough truffles and wine for almost a solid week.

I attribute the lack of weight gain to exercise and luck.

The exercise regime has gotten a tad.....boring. In the interest of expediency, the elliptical has become my main form of sweat. It is in my bedroom, always at the ready and does not involve any driving or extra time. During the craziness of the holidays, school vacation and just plain life, I decided to forgo spending extra time driving to get to the exercise part and just skip to the exercise. At home.

But you can only do the same thing for so long. And now I am bored. Even some new music on my "new" iPod didn't do the trick.

So tonight, after I drop Madeline off at dance class I am off for a swim.

Something about it being 20 degrees out makes the thought of swimming very unappealing. But logically, it shouldn't matter, right? The Y is the same temperature as always. The pool will be the same temperature as always. I'll dry my hair before I leave so as not to catch pneumonia.

Then why does the thought of swimming indoors in January practically form icicles on my earlobes? I can't even think about it without shivering.

You know when you were little, driving in the car and you had to go to the bathroom so bad your eyeballs were turning yellow? And your mom or dad said, "Just think of dry things dear, like the desert"? Perhaps that kind of visualization would work. I'll dream of being on a Caribbean cruise, basking in the sun drinking girlie drinks with cute little straws. Maybe that will help me pretend I'm not about to submerge myself in a frigid pool.

Um, right. I'll let you know how it goes.

Circa 1986

I inherited an iPod shuffle from my daughter. I cannot believe that something so small can sound so good and hold that much music. Remember your first Sony Walkman the size of a small child?

Anyway, I took the opportunity to update my playlist and add some songs I heard on the radio recently. One of them was REM's It's The End of The World. I do love me some REM. And I don't understand the words to that song any more than I did when I saw them at a concert in college.

REM played at a divey indie concert house in downtown Detroit when I was a sophomore at the University of Michigan. And I loved them as much then as I do now. Which is to say lots and lots. Not to mention I had a huge crush on the person who drove me to the concert. I thought we were on a date. Turns out we weren't. Oops.

Which, considering how our first true "date" went, I am not surprised.

Let me explain.

He was a busboy where I worked. He lived in the East Quad which was where all the interesting, artsy, crunchy tree huggers lived. He was wickedly smart. And cute. He caught my eye over a pile of dirty dishes. It was *like* at first sight.

He asked me to go to the movies one Friday night. I was so excited I could hardly sleep for two days. Which was very bad come Friday night. I liked to stay up late then about as much as I do now.

I was in bed at 8:30 last night.

Turns out it was a foreign film festival. The movie was in French with subtitles. I am 99% sure I fell asleep. And 97% sure I snored. Which explains why he never asked me out again.

Until the REM concert. When he told me he had an extra ticket and wondered if I wanted to go. I thought that was code for "date". Turns out he had a date. Named Linda.

And an extra ticket. For me.

Boy did I feel like an idiot.

Hindsight being 20/20, I know now it was all for the best.