Odds & Ends
/Hmmm.... not enough going on in life to warrant a full blog post so I'll just hit a few highlights from this past week. Heard around the Harris household:
Me, circling my arms around Blair and burying my face in his chest: "Oh, you're so warm! Blair is back!"
Blair: "I guess so."
Me, pulling back. "Hey, wait a minute. Why are you so warm?? Damnit, have you been eating meat?!"
(The guilty look said it all.)
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Under the "Would you say I'm too bossy?" category:
Blair was on the couch, looking at his wedding ring the other day. He took it off and was holding it up, squinting at it as if trying to read something on the interior of the ring.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"Just reading the inscription you put in here," he said.
The only thing engraved on his wedding ring is our wedding date. "What are you talking about?" I said.
"Wait. Yes, I can just make it out now. One ring to rule them all..."
Funny guy.
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Running update: I've done a couple of easy runs on the treadmill since last weekend's ultra but today was the first day I hit the pavement. I ran 9 miles around Madison at a quick clip and felt great EXCEPT for a nagging pain at the back of my right ankle that by the end of the run had worked its way up my right calf. Once I stopped running the pain intensified. I went inside and iced it but I've been limping around the house for most of the day. I've chosen my standard method of care for a running injury which is "Ignore it and hope it goes away."
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Horizontal Conditioning: A couple of weeks ago my friend Christie tricked me into attending a horizontal conditioning class with her. (I say tricked as in "she asked me" but there was no way of knowing what I was in for.) Horizontal Conditioning is a core workout (and not, as best friend Trisha guessed, "a code phrase for sex,") that has you holding plank position on a step for the better part of an hour while your feet are on gliders. You pull in and twist your legs in various positions until you feel the urge to vomit and/or pass out. I have a love/hate relationship with the workout.
The first time we went to the class, Christie and I expected it to be challenging, but c'mon. We both run over 20 miles a week, we work out with a trainer, we do our sit-ups. There were women in the class who looked far less toned than us. How bad could it be?
At about minute six I looked over at Christie so I could lob a four-letter obscenity her way except she was collapsed on the floor, looking about as spent as I felt.
"What the hell?" I said. "We're stronger than this, right?"
Apparently we're working new muscles, blah, blah, blah. All I know is this class kicks my butt. My goal is to make it through an entire class without stopping once. I hope to accomplish this goal before I'm 50.
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I spoke at the Burlington Writers Club on Saturday. It's the most active writers group in the state and there were probably 20-30 people in attendance. It was a great reminder how much I enjoy being around other writers and the energy that can be pulled from a group of like-minded people. One woman who is 89 (and never in a million years would you have guessed it) spoke with me about the memoir she'd written and where she was shopping it around. I love the drive she still has for life. That's what keeps us young - having goals and chasing dreams, no matter what our age or circumstances.
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And that's it for now from Madison-land. Gearing up for the holidays, meaning I'm begging myself not to start baking cookies, thinking I'll give them away as gifts to the neighbors. Way more end up inside Blair and me than in the hands of loved ones.
Cheers,
Dena
