P90X on the road! Not sure I should be doing this, since every time I rope family into doing a workout with me they are sore for a week and hate me for a month. :) This time it was my mother-in-law (MIL.) Now I am blessed with a peach of a MIL, and she proved it by being a good sport about Kenpo. She kept up, too. (At least most of the way!) Kenpo seems to get my heart rate up higher than Cardio, so it isn't for the faint of heart or timid of spirit. You're working the whole time.
Speaking of my in-laws...they are my example for "being there." Whether their sons, their daughters-in-law, their neighbors, or random misplaced teens, they consistantly show up. Physically if possible, in spirit if the car blows up. (Hypothetically speaking.) Know anybody in your life that has "shown up" for you? Stick a note in the mail. Ring 'em on the phone. Say "thanks." And then decide you'll show up for others.
~Stick to it!
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Friday, September 24, 2010
Day Forty Eight
Legs & Back/Ab Ripper. Blech. I am relieved to see that I have finally past the halfway point on the worksheet. Now I can begin the joyful task of counting down the number of times remaining on this detestable routine. I shouldn't complain. It's actually organized quite well, one set of pullups followed by two leg exercises and repeat. But my legs are burning by the time the warmup is over and it only gets worse from there. What kind of person thinks it's ok to put wall squats AND one-legged wall squats in the same sixty minutes?
The up side? I think I see some definition in my back from all those pullups. (My Better Half looked too long before agreeing with me, earning himself a healthy glare!) So I'm pulling out the halter dress for tonight. But I gotta end this. I have a hot date! (If a somewhat blind one!) :)
~Stick to it!
The up side? I think I see some definition in my back from all those pullups. (My Better Half looked too long before agreeing with me, earning himself a healthy glare!) So I'm pulling out the halter dress for tonight. But I gotta end this. I have a hot date! (If a somewhat blind one!) :)
~Stick to it!
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Day Forty Seven
The plan was the piano tuner would come today at about eleven. After getting to sleep after midnight, and getting up with My Better Half to see him off to work at six, the plan was to sleep in til at least nine. I could get up, shower, wash the dishes, start some laundry, have a nice breakfast, maybe have coffee ready when he arrived. If it worked out, maybe we could discuss the logistics of piano tuning certification over a quick lunch. (I have a terrible time allowing people to leave my house without being fed.) Of course, that was the plan!
Nature called before nine, and once I was up, I decided to try to fix the living room light. After four months of living here, it's never worked. There was no chain to turn the light on, and the switch only seemed to operate the fan. It finally occured to me that maybe the bulb was out. And the room was going to be a pretty dark workspace without the piano light or an overhead light. Ah well, plenty of time to tinker this morning. So I clamber on the stool and investigate. Turns out the light pull chain hangs inside the light cover for some odd reason. Jerry-rig it with a twisty tie, clean the globe, and put it all back together. (Dropping those little screws too many times - feels like I've done Legs & Back after climbing up and down that bar stool a zillion times.)
This has taken so long, I'm thinking I should shower and then do the massive pile of dishes while my hair dries. But vacuuming the piano will be dusty, so I'll do that next. Haul the vacuum downstairs, clear off the piano top, take the piano apart, take the vacuum apart, clean up the spiderwebs, put the vacuum back together, put the piano back together, dust the piano...and the phone rings. Could he have directions to my house again? He'll be here in twenty minutes. I'm still running around in my pajamas!
Dash upstairs, put on something decent, pull the hair back in a ponytail. Maybe he won't notice the grease and dandruff, cause there is no time to shower! Back downstairs, picking up errant possessions, opening curtains, turning on lights, adjusting the thermostat, plugging in the candle warmer, checking the bathroom appearance...massive pile of dishes in the sink! But I remember an old trick - hide them in the oven. I don't need it anyway, he'll be long gone by lunchtime. It takes some manuvering, but I get the loaded dishpan (and all the dishes that didn't fit in the dishpan) hidden away in the oven. The laundry pile is stuffed, unsorted, into the washer. I can't run it while he's tuning anyway.
He arrives just before the rain and we have a wonderful visit while he tunes. He shows me his tools and I watch the red bars on the electric tuner stabilize as the strings find the perfect tension. He's been tuning forty-four years and has great stories of boys who thought a piano made a good piggybank and of the eighty-three year old pianist who threw two hapless tuners out of her house, threatening to tune her piano herself.
I am racking my brain to think of what I can feed him. It's past noon, but I haven't had time to prepare a lunch. I haven't even had breakfast. Maybe something to send with him. Cornbread! He's nearly done, but I slip into the kitchen and turn on the oven to preheat as I hastily begin pulling out the ingredients. THE DISHES! So much for not using the oven! Fortunately, nothing has melted, though the Tupperware is getting rather warm to the touch. Unfortunately, I now have a massive pile of dirty dishes and nowhere to hide them. I peek around the corner. He's still engrossed in the final adjustments. The dishpan goes on the washer, pushed back to the corner, and I throw a dish towel over the top. Maybe he won't notice!
The cornbread decides to be obstinate and is still baking as he leaves. (He no doubt considers me cruel, to be wafting that smell as he leaves to catch a late lunch in town.) I give him directions to his next stop and close the door.
There are few things as inspiring to me as a newly tuned piano. The Yoga X can wait. The shower can wait. The dishes can wait. The laundry can wait. I open the deck door, listening to the rain outside, and play and play and play. Life is good.
~Stick to it!
Nature called before nine, and once I was up, I decided to try to fix the living room light. After four months of living here, it's never worked. There was no chain to turn the light on, and the switch only seemed to operate the fan. It finally occured to me that maybe the bulb was out. And the room was going to be a pretty dark workspace without the piano light or an overhead light. Ah well, plenty of time to tinker this morning. So I clamber on the stool and investigate. Turns out the light pull chain hangs inside the light cover for some odd reason. Jerry-rig it with a twisty tie, clean the globe, and put it all back together. (Dropping those little screws too many times - feels like I've done Legs & Back after climbing up and down that bar stool a zillion times.)
This has taken so long, I'm thinking I should shower and then do the massive pile of dishes while my hair dries. But vacuuming the piano will be dusty, so I'll do that next. Haul the vacuum downstairs, clear off the piano top, take the piano apart, take the vacuum apart, clean up the spiderwebs, put the vacuum back together, put the piano back together, dust the piano...and the phone rings. Could he have directions to my house again? He'll be here in twenty minutes. I'm still running around in my pajamas!
Dash upstairs, put on something decent, pull the hair back in a ponytail. Maybe he won't notice the grease and dandruff, cause there is no time to shower! Back downstairs, picking up errant possessions, opening curtains, turning on lights, adjusting the thermostat, plugging in the candle warmer, checking the bathroom appearance...massive pile of dishes in the sink! But I remember an old trick - hide them in the oven. I don't need it anyway, he'll be long gone by lunchtime. It takes some manuvering, but I get the loaded dishpan (and all the dishes that didn't fit in the dishpan) hidden away in the oven. The laundry pile is stuffed, unsorted, into the washer. I can't run it while he's tuning anyway.
He arrives just before the rain and we have a wonderful visit while he tunes. He shows me his tools and I watch the red bars on the electric tuner stabilize as the strings find the perfect tension. He's been tuning forty-four years and has great stories of boys who thought a piano made a good piggybank and of the eighty-three year old pianist who threw two hapless tuners out of her house, threatening to tune her piano herself.
I am racking my brain to think of what I can feed him. It's past noon, but I haven't had time to prepare a lunch. I haven't even had breakfast. Maybe something to send with him. Cornbread! He's nearly done, but I slip into the kitchen and turn on the oven to preheat as I hastily begin pulling out the ingredients. THE DISHES! So much for not using the oven! Fortunately, nothing has melted, though the Tupperware is getting rather warm to the touch. Unfortunately, I now have a massive pile of dirty dishes and nowhere to hide them. I peek around the corner. He's still engrossed in the final adjustments. The dishpan goes on the washer, pushed back to the corner, and I throw a dish towel over the top. Maybe he won't notice!
The cornbread decides to be obstinate and is still baking as he leaves. (He no doubt considers me cruel, to be wafting that smell as he leaves to catch a late lunch in town.) I give him directions to his next stop and close the door.
There are few things as inspiring to me as a newly tuned piano. The Yoga X can wait. The shower can wait. The dishes can wait. The laundry can wait. I open the deck door, listening to the rain outside, and play and play and play. Life is good.
~Stick to it!
Day Forty Six
My Better Half (MBH) and I have a long-standing..."discussion" on the pros and cons of high school athletics. Being a high school athlete himself, he would be on the pro side. Not that I am completely opposite, but (not being a high school athlete) I am of the opinion that die-hards may occasionally overlook the con side. (One of my many soapboxes!) He is naturally athletic and has been trained in basketball, etc. I would have to say that I am...not so much. In fact, most would probably call me flat out uncoordinated. (We have a running joke about the number of times I have elbowed him in the face, completely by accident, just because I can't seem to keep track of my own body parts.)
This last round was centered around the concept of determination. Perseverance. Stick-to-it-ness. What makes a person continue on a course that is difficult? Personality? Parenting? Motivation? Life experiences? (Which may or may not include organized athletics.) Why in the world would someone choose to do Back/Biceps/Ab Ripper week after week, when they could instead choose to get twelve other tasks accomplished in that ninety minutes?
Maybe twelve tasks is an exaggeration. Even if I'm sure that something will "just take a couple minutes," it always takes longer is and is more involved than I expected. If I go to sweep the kitchen floor, by the time I'm done, I've swept the whole house, killed and disposed of five spiders, shook the rugs, scrubbed the sticky spots, picked up a few misplaced items, answered two phone calls, replaced a light bulb, planned lunch and set out the frozen chicken. And I still am only able to cross one item off my to-do list! (Unless I add all the things I did to my to-do list so that I can cross them off, which I frequently do because I feel more successful that way!)
Anyway, if high school athletics is where MBH learned to see a committment through to the end, then good for him. Unless my elbows somehow figure where they are in relation to my brain, he's going to need perseverance "Til death do us part!"
~Stick to it!
This last round was centered around the concept of determination. Perseverance. Stick-to-it-ness. What makes a person continue on a course that is difficult? Personality? Parenting? Motivation? Life experiences? (Which may or may not include organized athletics.) Why in the world would someone choose to do Back/Biceps/Ab Ripper week after week, when they could instead choose to get twelve other tasks accomplished in that ninety minutes?
Maybe twelve tasks is an exaggeration. Even if I'm sure that something will "just take a couple minutes," it always takes longer is and is more involved than I expected. If I go to sweep the kitchen floor, by the time I'm done, I've swept the whole house, killed and disposed of five spiders, shook the rugs, scrubbed the sticky spots, picked up a few misplaced items, answered two phone calls, replaced a light bulb, planned lunch and set out the frozen chicken. And I still am only able to cross one item off my to-do list! (Unless I add all the things I did to my to-do list so that I can cross them off, which I frequently do because I feel more successful that way!)
Anyway, if high school athletics is where MBH learned to see a committment through to the end, then good for him. Unless my elbows somehow figure where they are in relation to my brain, he's going to need perseverance "Til death do us part!"
~Stick to it!
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Day Forty Five
Halfway there! Isn't it funny that time can both speed by and drag out? Part of me can hardly wait to be done, eating more freely (of course, I've been doing some of that already!) and exercising less (though I don't see how I can get any less than the days I did nothing!) and no longer keeping track of the workouts I've missed. (My Better Half says I should let go of that particular obsession, but I'm being unsubmissive.) Next week is another recovery week, then we're on the home stretch.
I did Cardio after work tonight. It's my new favorite workout. (To be honest, I like Kenpo pretty well also, but I'm more successful with the Cardio warmup.) The scale hasn't changed much, and there's still an extra roll around the waistline, but I am feeling better about my overall strength and fitness.
P90X has three levels of diet: Fat Shredder, Energy Booster, and Endurance Maximizer. We've been on Fat Shredder since we started, so next week I think I'll try switching to Energy Booster. I haven't gotten rid of all the tummy jelly yet, but "they say" that too few calories can also result in the body storing fat. It's probably good to switch it up now and then anyway. Plus, I'm tired of "Protein and veggies" being the answer to every "What's to eat?" question.
~Stick to it!
I did Cardio after work tonight. It's my new favorite workout. (To be honest, I like Kenpo pretty well also, but I'm more successful with the Cardio warmup.) The scale hasn't changed much, and there's still an extra roll around the waistline, but I am feeling better about my overall strength and fitness.
P90X has three levels of diet: Fat Shredder, Energy Booster, and Endurance Maximizer. We've been on Fat Shredder since we started, so next week I think I'll try switching to Energy Booster. I haven't gotten rid of all the tummy jelly yet, but "they say" that too few calories can also result in the body storing fat. It's probably good to switch it up now and then anyway. Plus, I'm tired of "Protein and veggies" being the answer to every "What's to eat?" question.
~Stick to it!
Day Forty Four
Either I should start a sadistic blog entitled "My Life with Ancient and Decrepit Automobiles" or I should count my blessings that we have so many ancient and decrepit automobiles that we always have an ancient and decrepit automobile to drive even though one is constantly in the shop. Actually, I can't complain too much. (Well, I can, but it isn't justified!) We do have one high-class blue streak, but My Better Half (being the better half, the larger of us two, and having the least flexible job) gets to drive it, leaving me with the joys of our ancient and decrepit fleet. (Not that I would have it any other way, for those of you may be about to call him to account! I will stubbornly defend my right to drive the fleet as I have chosen. I just like complaining about it!)
Anyway, the above paragraph is primarily a smoke screen in order to conceal the fact that, once again, I didn't exercise. (In my defense, it was due at least in small part to the malfunctioning fleet.) By the time I got home and put the groceries away, I was so tired, I went to bed. Besides, I like doing Cardio on Tuesdays better anyway!
~Stick to it!
Anyway, the above paragraph is primarily a smoke screen in order to conceal the fact that, once again, I didn't exercise. (In my defense, it was due at least in small part to the malfunctioning fleet.) By the time I got home and put the groceries away, I was so tired, I went to bed. Besides, I like doing Cardio on Tuesdays better anyway!
~Stick to it!
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Day Forty Three
Completely blew the diet out of the water. Cornbread, dumplings, pop, puppy chow, unmeasured gravy...I didn't hold back. Company can be good for the soul, bad for the health. :) What can I say? I'm a bit of a rebel, so I can usually hold my own with peer pressure. But I have a weakness for food (especially of the peanut butter and chocolate variety) so success is dependent more upon my resistance to the devil within than without. I could blame the "friends" (you know who you are, and that I still love you!) that brought the junk food and bailed on the accountability. I could blame the lack of a schedule, or the challenge of long-term entertaining with water and vegetables. Unfortunately, the accusatory finger faces only me. I was waiting for a chance to abandon principle, and when it came, I took it.
Is that how it always is? Is the truth of the matter that the primary reason I've avoided past temptations (of the non-food variety) was that they were not true enticements? A tumble to the dark side has dual causes: external availability and internal desire. A few philosophical equations of which you may ponder the veracity:
Availability + Desire = Dangerous Temptation.
Availability + Apathy = Illusory Temptation.
Scarcity + Desire = Imposed Resistance.
Scarcity + Apathy = Successful Resistance.
I'm done thinking for the night, so I'll close. As penance for my non-diet, I made myself do Chest/Shoulders/Triceps tonight. First time in some time I've started the week on Sunday like I'm supposed to instead of opting to attempt a double on Monday. (Not that I often end up doing the intended Monday double, but on Sunday evening I convince myself I can pull it off.) What do you know? Went faster than I expected. And...for the very first time I DID THE WHOLE AB RIPPER X! This day, I was successful at something I've never accomplished before. And tomorrow, I'll even eat my protein for breakfast. :)
~Stick to it!
Is that how it always is? Is the truth of the matter that the primary reason I've avoided past temptations (of the non-food variety) was that they were not true enticements? A tumble to the dark side has dual causes: external availability and internal desire. A few philosophical equations of which you may ponder the veracity:
Availability + Desire = Dangerous Temptation.
Availability + Apathy = Illusory Temptation.
Scarcity + Desire = Imposed Resistance.
Scarcity + Apathy = Successful Resistance.
I'm done thinking for the night, so I'll close. As penance for my non-diet, I made myself do Chest/Shoulders/Triceps tonight. First time in some time I've started the week on Sunday like I'm supposed to instead of opting to attempt a double on Monday. (Not that I often end up doing the intended Monday double, but on Sunday evening I convince myself I can pull it off.) What do you know? Went faster than I expected. And...for the very first time I DID THE WHOLE AB RIPPER X! This day, I was successful at something I've never accomplished before. And tomorrow, I'll even eat my protein for breakfast. :)
~Stick to it!
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