My mother has this quirky way of telling stories that, if told by any other human being, would make you cry or devastate you for days or something. But she ends all of them (every single one) with the phrase, “isn’t that funny?!” and everything sort of magically turns out alright.
On the South Jersey vacation, I ate with reckless abandon. This, coupled with March’s post-surgery lethargy, equals a comfortable layer of padding that would be incredibly useful only if I were ever lost in the desert or on a frozen tundra.
I didn’t even notice the change in my appearance (I didn’t gain 100 lbs overnight, after all) until my siblings and I attempted to film a Twilight trailer of our own.
[No promises. I promised pics of the pink hair and that never happened. Our trailer is a million times cooler than pink hair, thus your disappointment will be a million times greater if I am unable to deliver. So no promise. But it’s awesome.]
Ever have a moment where you see yourself in a picture or on video and think “do I seriously look like THAT to everyone else?! I look so fine in the mirror!” and then go home and yell at all your mirrors? Yeah, the first part happened to me.
Near the end of the NJ visit, I firmly vowed to myself that I would be more active (after we got back to TX, of course). Working helps, since it keeps me on my feet all day and that’s about 97% more on-my-feet than I was before I started the new job.
But I really wanted to be one of those people who gets out and moves every day. I wanted to be able to say “yeah, I run” and not look like a liar. And the only way I could convince myself to even try to make that work was to download podcasts of my favorite Philly radio station (WMMR’s Preston & Steve, free on iTunes; I highly HIGHLY recommend) and go outside before/as the sun comes up since it’s hotter than the fires of Hades after 8am here.
My whole goal was to make me proud of myself with epic accomplishments. I realize that for the sporting types, waking up early and making hipster music choices is old hat. But not for me.
Sleeping in and reading are my “regular” activities.
First day we’re back in Mexas (also my first real day of work) I wake up at the butt-crack of dawn with Hubs (which was actually kind of nice), and walk off to the park where I do a little walk/jog compliments of the couch-to-5k thing at coolrunning.com.
My iPod keeps me company. It tells me how far I’ve gone, how much time I’ve been out, and what my average pace is. Preston & Steve keep me very happy. They are funny. The stats keep me motivated. THREE MILES of motivated. (That’s right.) About halfway through, right as the sun was coming up, I actually thought, “I can do this” to myself.
I came home all fired up, endorphins running high.
Today I went out and had some thinking to do, so I turned on the tracking function of the ol’ iPod but kept the music off. And into my pocket it went, to silently cheer me on all the way.
As I arrived at my front door, I pulled out the iPod like a kid who approaches a jam-packed Christmas tree. I couldn’t wait to see how long I’d been out and how far I’d gone, etc.
Not completely broken, but frozen at 20 minutes and 53 seconds. Will not turn off. Will not reset. Will not communicate with computer.
I will be ok for a few days. But with no way to track progress, I will quickly (I can’t even begin to tell you how quickly) lose motivation. And someday soon I will look into a mirror and then punch it because it will make me incredibly angry. I would spend some time mulling over this situation to try to find a solution, but it’s past 8 am so I can’t walk it out.
If I can’t figure out how to fix this I’m going to turn into Jabba the Hut.
Isn’t that funny?