I got a message from my doctors office the other night to call about the results of my blood work. Nothing urgent, just call.
Could it be? Could my dream of shrinking my exceedingly large backside be aided by a higher dosage of thyroid medication?
I called today and waited with baited breath.
Vitamin D. I need more Vitamin D.
Dang it.
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I am teaching Adrienne how to swim. She knows “how” to swim—keeping herself upright.
But I am trying to help her with the mechanics of it all--- alternating freestyle stroke, face-in-the-water kind of things.
I have assured her that since the Tri For A Cure swim is in the ocean, I will enter the partner swimming heat with her so that I can swim right along side her and make sure she exits the water the same way she came in. On her feet.
Which I am happy to do. I really must do, truth be told. Because as much as I would like to compete in the fastest time possible, I would much rather go home from this event accompanied by everyone I arrived with.
I find it ironic however that once we get out of the water--the one event where I could probably turn in a decent time--she will absolutely smoke me on the bike and in the run.
Parenting instinct trumps competitive drive.
As it should.
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Do you have a favorite workout song? Is there a song that, once you hear it, you just want to get up and move?
Pass it on, leave me a comment so I can check it out. I am always looking for new songs to get me motivated and keep me going.
The current playlist on my iPod screams late ‘80’s. Talking Heads. The Cure. Depeche Mode. The Smiths. REM. With a sprinkling of some more recent hits—Seether, The Black-Eyed Peas, Eminem. I think of it as eclectic.
My kids think it’s weird.
I remember when I thought Peter, Paul & Mary was kind of weird. And when I could not understand why my dad loved listening to Simon and Garfunkel. I mean, why couldn’t he just listen to Shawn Cassidy like everybody else? Or the Partridge Family? Now that was music.
Um, right.
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