(Editor's Note: I began this post on the Tuesday after Memorial Day but am just now getting around to uploading it.)
I don't know so much about easy livin', but traffic was certainly light this morning as I made the trek to the office. The lack of school traffic and the fact that a fair number of working stiffs are on holiday certainly contributed to the paucity of cars in my way impeding me on my merry way. The one downside is that I didn't get to hear the end of a story on NPR. Hopefully they will play it again this afternoon or I will remember to find it online at some point.
The holiday weekend went by without much fanfare. I went to the farmer's market on Saturday morning and found some fresh vegetables and acquired some jam from a local farm. I ran other errands in the afternoon and then came home and fired up the work computer. Sunday was spent in a similar manner, trying to get caught on work things.
Memorial Day I got my fill of 'war' movies after watching one, and then played the last season of Trueblood on the DVR as I continued to bang things out for work. I ordered a pizza, ate some, and regretted the decision. Not that the pizza was bad; it was fine, but it was none too healthy, and I have been trying to eat better. Maybe that bad choice was offset by all of the vegetables eaten over the weekend, but I am not sure that it works that way.
My family was fortunate in that no one in my immediate family, even going back a few generations was a war casualty. We have had a lot of veterans, in most major US conflicts going back to the Civil War, but no deaths from combat. None in the recent comflicts, none in Vietnam, none in Korea (I am not aware of anyone that served here), none in WWII (although we did lose some family, they were not part of my direct lineage. One of dad's second cousins perished in the Colmar pocket in February of 1945).
This shortened work-week has been a blessing, too.
Friday, May 31, 2013
Thursday, May 23, 2013
Crossfit?
One of the gals that I work with has dropped a lot of weight in the last 6-9 months. Like 50 pounds or so. A significant and noticeable amount. For the sake of discussion, we shall label her as "J". I have known J for about 4 years. We have become friends, through two marriages (hers and her daughter's), two divorces (hers and mine), a grandbaby (hers) and some surgeries (mine). J served as my 'emergency contact' a couple of times and drove me home after out-patient procedures.
So, after not having seen J too often as she had moved to another building in the organization and our paths don't cross personally and much often now professionally, I ran into her a about 6 weeks ago and was stunned at the transformation. I never considered her fat, just, like myself, middle-aged. Possessing that soft-ish body shape that most Americans in that age range possess. But J had dropped some weight. She looked great. Always perky, fun, and energetic, she had an even greater aura of positive vibes and self-confidence.
I asked her about her efforts, and she proceeded to tell me about the changes she had made to her diet and the exercise regime she had undertaken. Her son-in-law is co-owner of a Crossfit "Box" (they aren't called gyms) and she had begun attending regular classes/sessions there. J said that it had been tough at first, and was still tough, but that she enjoyed it. J suggested I give it a try.
The kicker I suppose was that I had been trying to exercise more on my own in the little gym at the apartment complex where I live. I would go 3-4 nights a week and do some cardio and maybe push some weight around the machines. I had messed with my diet a little, but not a whole lot, and if I am totally honest I wasn't pushing myself too harder. J mentioned that the folks at her Crossfit gym were nice, helpful and they were running a special - two weeks unlimited for free.
Free rings a bell with Jud, who can be notoriously cheap. Just ask Little One.
So, I loaded up some gym clothes one morning and agreed to meet here after work. It is also convenient, as the box is maybe 5 minutes from house (this proved to be very helpful). I was a little apprehensive and self-conscious as I am with most new things. As I surveyed the box, there were about 20 folks engaged in the day's workout and about 15 of us waiting for the next session to begin. There were more women than men present. Few of them looked really fit, although some looked really fit. Not body builder fit, but lean and muscular fit. The number of folks who appeared to be close to my age in my general state of disrepair lulled me into a false sense of security that I had experienced once before in college.
I will digress and share the college story. Once, as junior in college, roughly 1990, I decided that I would take an aerobics class. I figured it would help me get in better shape for the summer and my labor intensive job with the Forest Service. Heck, the class would probably be filled with hot girls and it might be a way to score a date.
I showed up for class and figured it would be easy. There weren't a lot of "hot" girls in the class, but the instructor was gorgeous. I took a spot in the back. Five minutes into the work, I was tripping over my feet trying to keep up, gasping for breath, sweating like an alcoholic going through rehab, and wondering when the misery would end. Most of the women in class must have been laughing on the inside at me. I would have been were I in their Reeboks. There were a fair number of "old women" in that class (read 30) who looked like they might have been trying to lose some baby weight. They didn't look like coeds, but they weren't obese. But they were in cardiovascular shape and I wasn't. They could move to the routines, and I could not.
From the second class until the end of the term I took a spot in the front. I think some thought I just wanted to be closer to the cute instructor, which was partially true, but not because I was trying to check her out or put the moves on her. I was a sweaty out of shape mess, which I have learned is not the best way to attract women. I moved up because I would sweat so much my glasses wouldn't stay on my head and I couldn't see well enough to even see what moves we were supposed to be doing. By week 3 I was doing better, keeping up (for the most part), and my footwork had greatly improved. I thought that there might be hope for me yet, until the instructor said "today we learn a new routine so you don't get bored". A part of me died that day. I made it through the term and learned not to judge a person's level of fitness solely by their girth or lack thereof.
So, at Crossfit a experienced a bit of deja vu. After a short time I was sweating profusely and wondering what happened to all of the oxygen that used to seem so abundant in the air. After about 30 minutes, which seemed much longer, the workout leaders said "Grab some water and then we will start the workout." I turned to J with a look of terror and bewilderment and she explained "that was just the warm-up."
I didn't make it through the workout.
In fact, now nearing the end of almost my 4th week, I have to complete a full workout. I came close yesterday. Today I am so sore I am not sure I will make. I do have a lot more energy than I did 4 weeks ago when I began. I have lost some weight, but more importantly, some of the fluff around my middle. I even joined the 'box' and am on the hook for a year. It is significantly more expensive than a gym membership. That in itself will make me much more likely to go. They folks are nice and supportive. It is competitive, but not in a head-to-head sense (it may be for some), but it is more peer pressure to give maximum effort and to do as much as one can. My back issues and age (most of the folks are younger, but there are plenty my age and some older) do work against me, but I take it easy when I need to and wear my back brace to help my posture.
Watch this space for news on my ongoing progress.
So, after not having seen J too often as she had moved to another building in the organization and our paths don't cross personally and much often now professionally, I ran into her a about 6 weeks ago and was stunned at the transformation. I never considered her fat, just, like myself, middle-aged. Possessing that soft-ish body shape that most Americans in that age range possess. But J had dropped some weight. She looked great. Always perky, fun, and energetic, she had an even greater aura of positive vibes and self-confidence.
I asked her about her efforts, and she proceeded to tell me about the changes she had made to her diet and the exercise regime she had undertaken. Her son-in-law is co-owner of a Crossfit "Box" (they aren't called gyms) and she had begun attending regular classes/sessions there. J said that it had been tough at first, and was still tough, but that she enjoyed it. J suggested I give it a try.
The kicker I suppose was that I had been trying to exercise more on my own in the little gym at the apartment complex where I live. I would go 3-4 nights a week and do some cardio and maybe push some weight around the machines. I had messed with my diet a little, but not a whole lot, and if I am totally honest I wasn't pushing myself too harder. J mentioned that the folks at her Crossfit gym were nice, helpful and they were running a special - two weeks unlimited for free.
Free rings a bell with Jud, who can be notoriously cheap. Just ask Little One.
So, I loaded up some gym clothes one morning and agreed to meet here after work. It is also convenient, as the box is maybe 5 minutes from house (this proved to be very helpful). I was a little apprehensive and self-conscious as I am with most new things. As I surveyed the box, there were about 20 folks engaged in the day's workout and about 15 of us waiting for the next session to begin. There were more women than men present. Few of them looked really fit, although some looked really fit. Not body builder fit, but lean and muscular fit. The number of folks who appeared to be close to my age in my general state of disrepair lulled me into a false sense of security that I had experienced once before in college.
I will digress and share the college story. Once, as junior in college, roughly 1990, I decided that I would take an aerobics class. I figured it would help me get in better shape for the summer and my labor intensive job with the Forest Service. Heck, the class would probably be filled with hot girls and it might be a way to score a date.
I showed up for class and figured it would be easy. There weren't a lot of "hot" girls in the class, but the instructor was gorgeous. I took a spot in the back. Five minutes into the work, I was tripping over my feet trying to keep up, gasping for breath, sweating like an alcoholic going through rehab, and wondering when the misery would end. Most of the women in class must have been laughing on the inside at me. I would have been were I in their Reeboks. There were a fair number of "old women" in that class (read 30) who looked like they might have been trying to lose some baby weight. They didn't look like coeds, but they weren't obese. But they were in cardiovascular shape and I wasn't. They could move to the routines, and I could not.
From the second class until the end of the term I took a spot in the front. I think some thought I just wanted to be closer to the cute instructor, which was partially true, but not because I was trying to check her out or put the moves on her. I was a sweaty out of shape mess, which I have learned is not the best way to attract women. I moved up because I would sweat so much my glasses wouldn't stay on my head and I couldn't see well enough to even see what moves we were supposed to be doing. By week 3 I was doing better, keeping up (for the most part), and my footwork had greatly improved. I thought that there might be hope for me yet, until the instructor said "today we learn a new routine so you don't get bored". A part of me died that day. I made it through the term and learned not to judge a person's level of fitness solely by their girth or lack thereof.
So, at Crossfit a experienced a bit of deja vu. After a short time I was sweating profusely and wondering what happened to all of the oxygen that used to seem so abundant in the air. After about 30 minutes, which seemed much longer, the workout leaders said "Grab some water and then we will start the workout." I turned to J with a look of terror and bewilderment and she explained "that was just the warm-up."
I didn't make it through the workout.
In fact, now nearing the end of almost my 4th week, I have to complete a full workout. I came close yesterday. Today I am so sore I am not sure I will make. I do have a lot more energy than I did 4 weeks ago when I began. I have lost some weight, but more importantly, some of the fluff around my middle. I even joined the 'box' and am on the hook for a year. It is significantly more expensive than a gym membership. That in itself will make me much more likely to go. They folks are nice and supportive. It is competitive, but not in a head-to-head sense (it may be for some), but it is more peer pressure to give maximum effort and to do as much as one can. My back issues and age (most of the folks are younger, but there are plenty my age and some older) do work against me, but I take it easy when I need to and wear my back brace to help my posture.
Watch this space for news on my ongoing progress.
Tuesday, May 21, 2013
And So, the End is Near...
The end of the school year, that is. Little One is released on Thursday for the summer. Sixth grade will be behind her. I think that 6th grade was my favorite of all of my years of school, apart from college.
I lived in Oklahoma when I was in the sixth grade. I went to school in a small town. I lived out in the country and road the bus forever and a day to get there. I was the first on one and the last one off. I enjoyed the fact that I knew where a lot of my classmates lived. And, I had some free time to finish homework or read on the bus.
Through the wonder that is Facebook I have reconnected with some of my childhood pals. It is fun to get a glimpse into their lives and see how they "turned out", and see pictures if their families, with kids and in some cases grandchildren. Some have moved away from Oklahoma, but most of them are still there.
Little One doesn't have too many big plans for the summer. She will spend some time with Nana (MOJ), the ex-laws (probably), and the EW gets 4 weeks of summer visitation, but she hasn't requested any yet. I will probably take her down to beach at some point, if only for a long weekend.
But the summer weather seems to have arrived. Today it is sunny and about 90 outside with a nice measure of humidity thrown in for good measure. Enjoy your summer, Little One. Play in the pool, relax, recharge, and 7th grade will be here before you know it.
I lived in Oklahoma when I was in the sixth grade. I went to school in a small town. I lived out in the country and road the bus forever and a day to get there. I was the first on one and the last one off. I enjoyed the fact that I knew where a lot of my classmates lived. And, I had some free time to finish homework or read on the bus.
Through the wonder that is Facebook I have reconnected with some of my childhood pals. It is fun to get a glimpse into their lives and see how they "turned out", and see pictures if their families, with kids and in some cases grandchildren. Some have moved away from Oklahoma, but most of them are still there.
Little One doesn't have too many big plans for the summer. She will spend some time with Nana (MOJ), the ex-laws (probably), and the EW gets 4 weeks of summer visitation, but she hasn't requested any yet. I will probably take her down to beach at some point, if only for a long weekend.
But the summer weather seems to have arrived. Today it is sunny and about 90 outside with a nice measure of humidity thrown in for good measure. Enjoy your summer, Little One. Play in the pool, relax, recharge, and 7th grade will be here before you know it.
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