The Fix

I have to say I’m writing this sorely aware of pretty much every muscle in my body. I say sorely because I believe I feel pain in just about every fiber of all 640 muscles. Did you know we have that many? Me neither. I had to look it up. But my point is, I feel pain in all of them.

Let me explain…remember when I juiced for 10 days to help cleanse my system of the baked Cheetos and taffy I keep stashed in the console between the front seats of my SUV? You don’t?! Well then you need to read my post: Welcome To My Detox.

cheetos

Turns out I spend an inordinate amount of time in my vehicle traveling to trap feral cats for spay/neuter. A gal gets hungry you know. Nothing worse than trapping at Dillon Beach miles from a grocery store when a hankerin’ for cheese and crackers hits. So I keep a stash of edibles in my console. Sometimes they aren’t what one would call healthy snacks. Hence the cleanse. Continue reading

Something Is Wrong With Me

I’ve been playing competitive team tennis for 30 years now. Whew…that’s an awful long time, isn’t it? But here’s the thing; something is wrong with me.what's wrong with meNow don’t get me wrong. I’m not dying. At least I don’t think so. I am behind on scheduling my annual checkup though, so until that happens, I can’t say definitively that I’m not dying.get my checkupAnyway, I digress…for those of you who know me, you won’t argue that something is wrong with me. I don’t mean I see dead people or anything. But wouldn’t that be awesome? I’d love to visit with my family who’ve passed on, maybe even meet Mark Twain, Jane Goodall or Einstein. Scratch that last one; I probably wouldn’t understand a word he’s saying. There I go digressing again…

Say what?!

Say what?!

Continue reading

Steady as She Goes

Every muscle in my body is screaming. They’re not at all happy with me today. That’s because I started running again after a long lay-off from a knee injury and general laziness. Actually, running is too strong a word for what I actually do. It’s more like a slow jog. Some might even consider it meandering.

I’ve always been a slow runner. Even when I was training for a couple sprint triathlons with my bionic friends, Pam and Margo, I never became faster over the months. They assured me if I kept it up and did interval training I’d get quicker. Didn’t happen. A million years ago I was a miler on my high school track team. But I wasn’t fast then either. I think I’m programmed for endurance. Except for now, when my endurance is on hiatus.

Anyway, in school I had absolutely no talent for running and never practiced except when the team did. And even then I spent more time gabbing with friends than actually doing any running. It was more a social event for me than anything. Still, I could keep up with the pack for the first half mile but that’s where they lost me. I think my fastest time was a dismal 7.5 minute mile. Talk about embarrassing.

Continue reading

What Doesn’t Kill You Makes You Stronger (Yeah, Right)

Due to the holiday, and a tiny little problem (which is that I didn’t get around to writing my Sunday blog), I’m re-posting this one from last year. If you already read it, but are anything like yours truly and have a bad memory, just pretend it’s a new one. It works for me…

As promised in last week’s blog, I have now included Pilates classes in my mission to get into shape, whatever that may mean.

Just kill me now Just kill me now

In my case, it means getting rid of my Kangaroo pouch, developing long-lost muscles and eliminating about a million cellulite cells. (They don’t call me thunder thighs for nothin’, you know.) I think I may have a shot at the first two, but I’m not too optimistic about that last one. Continue reading

What Doesn’t Kill You Makes You Stronger (Yeah, Right)

As promised in last week’s blog, I have now included Pilates classes in my mission to get into shape, whatever that may mean.

Just kill me now

Just kill me now

In my case, it means getting rid of my Kangaroo pouch, developing long-lost muscles and eliminating about a million cellulite cells. (They don’t call me thunder thighs for nothin’, you know.) I think I may have a shot at the first two, but I’m not too optimistic about that last one. Continue reading