No Pie

I think Jim is trying to be helpful.

Last night we were on the way home from dinner and I suggested an innocent ice cream cone.

"I thought you wanted to be skinny," he said, referring to a comment I made at dinner.

"I do," I said. "But I also want ice cream."

"It doesn't really work that way," he reasoned.

I thought about it for a minute. I knew we were headed north early Saturday morning to pick up a new truck for his business. I like to make these little necessary trips into adventures in some way and I knew that there was a famous restaurant between here and there ... the Norske Nook.

I'm sure you've heard of this place. They're famous for pie. World famous. Blue ribbons and stuff like that.

I like pie. Lemon meringue in particular. And Dutch apple. I started daydreaming.

"Ok, I'll skip the ice cream tonight, but I get pie tomorrow," I declared forcefully. I have to be pretty stern about things like this because when Jim gets in work mode, he often forgets about the frivolous other stuff. Like me wanting pie.

"We have to go through Osseo. You'll get pie," he said.

Fast forward.

Here we sit, at 8:30 p.m. Saturday. There was no pie. As predicted, he got in work mode and we flew through Osseo with nary a look toward the Nook.

I just reminded him that not only did I not get ice cream, but I also did not get pie.

"See. I'm just trying to help," he says.

Funny how I am not really that grateful.

Four Days, No Exercise

It's not the first time I've gone a week or so without exercise. But I'm always surprised by what lack of movement does to my head and my butt.

Without exercise I am:
Foggier ... my head just doesn't work right
More tired ... like lethargic ... an object at rest really does want to stay at rest
Yet unable to sleep properly ... since I'm not physically, sleeping becomes a difficulty
Ornery
Puffy ... I FEEL puffy
Achy ... my knees hurt more when they don't get regular movement to keep them limber
Afraid ... that I won't be able to pick up where I left off
Grateful ... for all the "good" health I've had
Anxious ... to start up again
Worried ... that I'll get the start up timing wrong because both too early and too late are bad
Ready ... for this time out to be OVER!!!

My Favorite Pairings

Some things are just meant to be eaten together.

• Watermelon and blackberries
• Slightly sweet/sort of sour apples (Jazz, Pinanta, Gala) and sharp Cheddar cheese
• Red grapes and pretzels
• Honeydew and strawberries
• Popcorn and Mini Heath 
• Pistacios and dried cranberries (and dark chocolate, if I get a third)
• Fresh baguette and Muenster

What are your favorites? 

Defensive Eating Strategies

Two cookouts this weekend means lots of leftover food that's not so great for me. Cookies, hot dogs, pulled pork, white buns, chips ... all of the ususal suspects.

What's a girl to do with all those leftovers?

Give 'em away.

Pulled pork and buns to Kait. Cookies and chips to the family reunion, and whatever was left there to the bachelor uncles.

The hot dogs after hanging out in a crock pot all afternoon were appropriately gross, so they're in the garbage.

I'm still looking for a home for 16 hot dog buns.

Need some?

Admirable Dedication, Normal Behavior or Sheer Lunacy?

I can't shake this damn cold.

Or maybe it's allergies. Or severe bronchitis. Who knows. I'm treating it as if it could be any of those things: Advil, cough syrup with expectorant and decongestant, OTC allergy tablets, sleep and exercise.

I'm coughing like a crazy person and now it's just pissing me off.

I ran out of cough medicine this morning at 4:30 a.m., much to my husband's chagrin. It was an unpleasant way to start the morning.

So I did what seemed logical when choosing my morning workout.

I biked 10 miles to Walgreen's for more cough syrup. Hacking up a lung the whole way.

Now, let me state, this SEEMED like a good idea at 8 a.m. this morning. As I made the final climb on Noss Road, heading toward home, I had a moment of clarity that contradicted my initial decision.

As such, I walked my bike up the driveway and declared to Jim: "This might not have been the smartest thing I ever did."

He agreed. But was wise enough to not say it out loud.

Do you workout when you're sick? What are the pros and cons? I'd love to know your experience.

The experts views here:
http://www.webmd.com/cold-and-flu/features/exercising-when-sick
http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/exercise/AN01097

This is how you get two bottles of cough medicine home from Walgreen's:
one in the water bottle holder and one in a bag, tied to the seat post. 

Morning Glow

Summer is waning. The days are getting shorter and the mornings are darker later. 

But here's what has been greeting me this past week as I head to the basement and my workout room: 

It makes me smile every time. Like there's a big, bright, secret bundle of joy and happiness behind that door. 

And, in most ways, I guess there really is. Whether my 6 a.m. still-sleepy-head believes it or not. 

Ornery ... and Then Some

Man.

Between this cold/allergies/coughing up a lung thing, the lack of sleep it causes, Jim being gone all week, a party to get ready for and the heat ... I am one flippin' ornery woman.

A total bitch, in fact.

Top it all off with the fact that I stepped on the scale yesterday after a weekend of debauchery and found I'd gained another 6 pounds (now up 17 from my 2012 steady weight) and I'm about to cry. Right after I tear your head off.

My solution?

Eat better and exercise more. Because it's all I can control right now.

Last night I walked and lifted weights. This morning, I did 45 minutes on my trainer and followed it up with 2 running miles and 2 walking miles this evening. Tomorrow a.m., I'm hitting that trainer again and tomorrow night, there's a Wii Just Dance dance off planned between me and my 11-year-old neice.

She was just singing in the shower. Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy. At the top of her lungs.

And totally on key.

THAT makes me smile, in spite of it all.

How Not To Order Lunch

I had lunch with an old boss on Monday. I had been looking forward to it since we first scheduled it a few weeks ago. I was anxious to hear about his exciting new adventures ... it's living vicariously through someone who had the courage to leave the stability of "Corporate America" to find a new, more fulfilling path.

I was so excited about getting to all of the news, in fact ,so much so that I sort of forgot how to order lunch.

We ended up at a little, local diner. The kind of joint that makes a killer breakfast, has a soup of the day and egg salad on the menu. There's a counter to sit at, homemade pie in a glass case and waitresses who have been working the same sections for 20+ years make small talk with the regulars. Lunch for two is easily under $15.

So did I opt for a salad? No. An egg white omelette with wheat toast? No.

I ordered a club sandwich.

That's right. An EXTRA piece of WHITE bread, bacon, and it came with chips. I had a moment of clarity and ordered it without MAYO, but come on!

By the time it arrived, I had gotten part of my brain back. (It might have been the discussion we had about his upcoming 31-mile trail run/race?) So I sat there and picked the sandwich apart to get rid of at least some of the bread. Not attractive during a "business" lunch.

But I ate all of the bacon.

And I demonstrated remarkable restraint with the chips.

Next time, I'll go with a plain, ol' turkey sammy on whole wheat. It's a much better choice. I'll opt for the clear soup instead of the chips or a side salad, without croutons, cheese and creamy dressing.

It's the little things that add up.

Sometimes God Intervenes

I tried to have a snack this afternoon.

I didn't need one. I had a good lunch and plenty of it. I had a decent dinner planned. In other words, there was no reason to eat.

But there was a bag of microwave popcorn in my desk drawer. It had been there for almost 2 years. I'd forgotten about it and stumbled upon it today looking for something else.

Once I knew it was there, I got a little obsessed with it. Couldn't stop thinking about it.

So off I went to the breakroom microwave. Tossed that baby in, spun the dial to "popcorn" and filled my water glass with ice. I could hear those lovely little kernels popping away. I headed to the water cooler and began to fill up my glass, when ...

I smelled burning.

In the movie in my head, I screamed, "Noooooooo!" and lunged toward the microwave with the grace of a gazelle ... in slow motion and with good lighting, of course. (My hair looked fabulous, BTW.)

I was too late. The popcorn had barely started to pop and it was black as could be. Ruined. All of it ruined.

Apparently, microwave popcorn has a shelf life.

After dousing the bag with water to ensure there were no flames before I tossed it in the garbage, I simply had to smile.

When the universe tells you something, it's wise to listen. I was not meant to have popcorn this afternoon.

Duly noted.

(And I'm sorry, coworkers, for that awful smell in Perks around 2:30 p.m.)

62 Miles ... Errr, 65ish ... In the Books!

Check that off the list!

With the help of my awesome brother-in-law, 2 Rivers Bicycle Shop and the Fort Atkinson Lions Club, I can say I completed a Metric Century bike ride. Plus a few extra miles.

The official course was 64.7 miles. Juan Carlos and I took a wrong turn in Johnson Creek, so we can safely round that up to 65. Whoops. And in defense of the Lions Club, the course was marked very well. We just screwed up.

Here's what I think:

• 65 miles with someone riding along and with rest stops seems MUCH shorter than 54 by myself with no rest stops and no additional fueling.
• Fueling your body along the way during a 5 hour ride is essential. Yes, I drank a lot of water. But I also took full advantage of the wonderful spread offered at the rest stops: orange slices, bananas (OK, you're right, I didn't eat those), grapes, cookies, bread/bagels and peanut butter. I probably ate, in total, 1.5-2 oranges, a handful or two grapes, a delicious Double Stuff Oreo and a half of a oatmeal craisin cookie. There were four total rest stops on our route, and we took full advantage of three of them. Yum! 
• I suck at hills. It's not that I'm not strong enough, it's that I don't shift properly and attack them properly. I need some practice on my technical riding skills. I end up just powering through, which is fine, but slow and not pretty or efficient. If I was smarter about setting up right for the hill, I'd have a lot more success. Oh, and I REALLY need to learn how to pedal standing up. It's ridiculous that I can't. 
• This cold/cough thing that I thought was just an annoyance is perhaps more than that. I could feel it in my lungs as I was gasping for breath on the climbs ... dreaming of a nebulizer. Just not able to get a full breath. Which means I might have to break down and go to the doc this week. Grrr. 
• My legs are good. My butt is good. My neck got sore toward the end. 
• I think we burned around 3000 calories. Which made the fried chicken dinner with butter-dipped sweet corn taste soooo much better! 
• Lots of people older and heavier than me finished ahead of me. Per usual. 

I meant to take a before and after photo. I managed to get the "before" done. But we had to high-tail it out of town as soon as I scarfed down my free meal because Jim had to leave for work. But the "after" would have included an oval Chinet plate with an empty corn cob and the bones from 1/2 a chicken dinner. If that helps.

All in all, this is truly a cool event for Fort Atkinson. There's something pretty neat about cruising on that familiar, quiet Main Street on an early Sunday morning and then pulling back into town and landing in the middle of Hometown USA:

Big white tents in the middle of a beautiful park. Adorable, gray-haired Midwestern men serving up corn and chicken. Former English teacher? Check. Grade school basketball coach that you still address as Mr. Schafer? Check. A Fort Generals baseball game going on. My husband and family waiting to greet us. Oh, and did I mention my nieces brought their new puppy along?

Seriously, it's like a flipping CMT video.

Remember, the ride includes three distances ... 18, 36 and the big one we did. Something for everyone. Hope you to see you there next year.

BEFORE: OK, do I ever wear anything besides this neon yellow 

long sleeve shirt? Yes, I do. But it's my favorite. Truth is I took it

off before the ride started. And I am starting to think my helmet 

doesn't fit right. Or I wear it too far back on my forehead. JC looks 

like a pro. I look like a dork. 

FIRST REST STOP at a county park just outside of Helenville. One toilet = long lines. But the food was great, the volunteers were gracious and we were grateful. Oh, and that's Juan Carlos' rear end ... and his cool bike on the right.

You're welcome, Karla. 

P.S. Thank you again, Jim, for not only putting up with this sort of inconvenient at times hobby of mine, but for getting me the road bike, for hauling it and me hither and yon, for pumping up the tires ... and for telling me you're proud of me when I finish. Mwah.

Here Goes Nothing!

Tomorrow is 62-mile day.

And it feels like deja vu all over again.

Remember that half marathon I ran earlier this year without properly training and how stupid I said that was? I'm about to do it again.

So when I start complaining on Monday, tell me to shut the hell up. Remind me that it's my own fault. And send me away for a pity party somewhere else.

Here's the ugly truth:

While I did get 54 miles in two weeks ago, I haven't ridden my bike much since then. In fact I only pedaled 45 minutes during the week. My niece was here, my schedule messed up ... so many excuses. I did do 11 or so miles today as kind of a warm up, just to remind my muscles of the motions.

My knee is killing me. Biking won't hurt it more, of course. But I'm popping a lot of Advil and I'm a little worried about how I'll be walking on Monday.

I've been battling a cold all week. My head is stopped up, I have this annoying dry cough that won't go away or break up. (Mucus! I want mucus!) All of which means I'm not sleeping very well.

Sniff, sniff. Want to hand me a tissue?

The good thing about the Tour de Fort is that it's NOT a race. It's a tour. A ride. The goal is to enjoy the trip and to finish. I'll be cruising with my bike stud brother-in-law, and I hope I'll get to hear all about the just-completed Trek World. (Want some bike envy? See what the important people saw here: https://www.facebook.com/TrekBicycle.)

And I'll remember how fortunate I am to have a nice road bike (Thank you Jim and JC!), to be able to ride since this running thing is not working out so well, and to know in my soul that I can and will finish because my body is strong ... so much stronger than it was 3 years ago.

If you're out and about in Jefferson Country tomorrow and come up on a bunch of bikes ... slow down and give them as much room as possible. Then look for me. I promise to wave back.

Injection Update

Thought it was about time I gave you a little update on my Synvisc injections.

The good news?

I think they helped. They didn't make my knee stop hurting, but the hurt became bearable and I stopped limping. I adjusted my workout schedule so that I didn't run/walk two days in a row and I biked ... a lot ... in an effort to make my quads as strong as possible. Strong quads take pressure off my knees and that can't hurt.

They made my knee feel "full" ... as if there was too much fluid inside. And that fullness made it uncomfortable to keep my leg fully extended when I was sitting and made it all but impossible to lay on my stomach with my legs straight down. I have had to find a new way to sleep, too, in that I am no longer able to lay on my side, with my legs bent and "stacked" on top of the other. That right one is too full and it hurts to have touching the other one.

The bad news?

The Dean Clinic failed to send me to the "pre-qualification" desk before they gave me the series of three injections. So now we're battling over who is going to pay the $1500 for which they're billing me. My insurance is A-OK to pay, but they needed the pre-qual made. Dean, who has given me cortisone before with no pre-qual, didn't tell me these injections were very different animals.

I'm mad. They send me to the desk for the MRI. They send me to the desk when I have to make a PT appointment. But for whatever reason, they did not send me to the desk for these injections. As if I know the difference between this and Cortisone or a tetanus shot. I'm sure it will get worked out. It will just be a pain until then.

The next news?

I'm pretty confident that the injections are starting to "wear off" and I'm in need of another round. Which is why I'm anxious to get the insurance thing taken care of. Oh, and my PT said he was sure I wouldn't need a whole knee replacement, just a partial. I'm not sure he's the authority, but somehow a partial sounds better.

The Exercise Excuse

It hit me today like a ton of bricks.

I have been using exercise as an excuse to eat. Well, to eat MORE than I should. And to eat too much of a few things I shouldn't.

And all of a sudden I'm at this point where I resent having to wake up and do the exercise. Or I resent having to spend so much time exercising.

As if it's Exercise's fault.

When I'm "mad" at Exercise, I skip it. In my head, that makes sense. Like I'm really teaching Exercise a lesson.

"Take that! You make me wake up early and dedicate half of my waking free hours to you. To prove to you that you are a jerk, I'm just not going to visit you today. Ha! That will teach you to mess with me!"

Exercise itself could give a tinker's damn whether I visit or not. You know it. I know it. Exercise knows it.

In the meantime, Jelly Bellies and Cheese Nips are high-fiving each other in the pantry. Venison Sticks and Whip Cream In a Can are partying down in the fridge.  "We did it! She's paying attention to us again and she's pissed off at that dope Exercise. We couldn't have planned this better if we tried! He takes the fall. We get the love. It's perfect!"

I'm the only one that pays for eating badly and for not exercising. Me.

Today's 4.5 miles on the treadmill isn't going to solve much, but it's done.

How Long is Cooked Salmon Good in the Fridge?

If it's shorter than four days, don't tell me.

I just ate some that I blackened last Thursday night. Because I'm hungry. And my options were:

• Raw veg which just wouldn't fill the void right now
• Cheese which is good, but too many calories 
• Cheese Nips, which are freaking delicious, but completely empty calories
• Salmon that was cooked on Thursday night
• Mint chocolate chip ice cream that my niece was eating right out of the container (the BEST way to eat ice cream)

Here's hoping there's no vomiting in my future.

'Fessin Up

Here's the truth:

I didn't ride my bike to work last week, even though my goal was to get it done once a week for the rest of the summer. The weather, after-work activities and "life" just got in the way. Have I rode in twice a couple of times so that it all evens out? Yes. But that's not the point. I didn't get done what I said I'd get done.

I'm eating VERY BADLY. It hasn't been causing me more trouble because I've been trying to stay ahead of it with exercise. But this week, that changed and I'm seeing the effects in my legs, my middle and my boobs. Remember ... you can't out-exercise bad eating. It just doesn't work that way.

I have been spotty with my strength training for the past three weeks. I fell out of the habit/strict schedule and then I just plain forget when it's not part of the routine. As a woman advancing in years and as one with a family history of osteoporosis, I need to make this part of my life. I started back in today. (And I whacked my forehead on the new weight machine. Don't ask. And please don't point at the bump and purple spot tomorrow.)

After pizza Friday, pizza again tonight and more crap than I care to recount, I'm officially back in the saddle again. The truth is I'm not very good at some cheating. At least I'm not good at it right now. And that means I have to go back to strict rules with no straying until things are back in order again.

I am going to have a helper this week, unbeknownst to her. My 9-year-old niece is spending the week and she loves ... you're never going to believe this ... salad and water. I'm counting on her very presence to remind me to back off the Cherry Coke Zero and guide the dinner menu a couple of nights.

Her being here also means that I can't bike into work this week either. There's just no way to get her to gymnastics camp and me to the office that way. But I'll make up for it next Sunday on that 62 mile ride.

I am strong. I am capable. I am going to be a little hungry ...

Watermelon Before Bedtime

It's that time of year again.

The watermelon is pink and juicy and ripe and sweet and, and, and ...

So good!

Jim and I are eating a whole seedless watermelon a week. The truth is, it doesn't actually last a whole week. It's usually gone in 4-ish days. Keep in mind, we're only home together at night.

That's power watermelon eating.

Which leads to power watermelon bathroom breaks. All. Night. Long.

We have one of those foam beds that allow one person to jump up and down and the other to not spill a glass of wine because it doesn't bounce. So my getting in and out of bed four or five times a night isn't the real issue.

The thing that drives him crazy is that I turn the bathroom light on BEFORE I shut the door.

Whatevs. Deal.

New Veg Dip: Garlic-Feta

I made a new veg dip that was freaking delicious to dunk your raw carrots in ... and also turned out to also be KICK ASS on roast beef in place of a horsey sauce.

Measurements, as you know, are a suggestion only. Taste it and stop when you like it.

Garlic Feta Veg Dip
2 heaping teaspoons of chopped garlic from the jar (with a bit of the juice)
16 oz. of white creamy stuff (I used half Greek yogurt and half light sour cream)
1t oregano or rosemary
1t garlic salt
1T Mrs. Dash original
1t garlic powder
Handful or two of feta crumbles
Swish olive oil

Heat up a small sauce pan, and give it a swirl of EEVO. Add the chopped garlic and let the "raw" taste cook out, being careful not to burn or darken the garlic too much. When you think it's heated/cooked through, add it and the oil to the creamy stuff. Add the rest of the ingredients. Taste and add more of whatever you like best. Let it sit overnight for the best flavor.

Great on your crudite plate. Also so good on an Italian beef hot sandwich or a warm roast beef sammy.

Benefit of Being Thinner #34

Nice men help you with heavy bags of ice.

Last week, before the baby shower, I had to run to pick up ice and balloons. Ice first. Three 20-lb. bags. I paid for them first inside the gas station, and then headed to the cooler outside the store. My car was parked a few spaces away.

First I set all three bags outside of the cooler on the ground. Then I attempted to grab two with one hand and juggle the third with my purse and car keys in the other hand.

I couldn't get it all done. And I sooooooo hate to make a second trip. (I am the queen of getting in the back door with ALL of the grocery bags on my arms. These are the lessons you learn when you live alone in an upstairs apartment for years.)

Then a nice youngish man (in the 30-year-old range, I suspect, which is unfortunately "young" for me these days) notices my conundrum and half jogs over.

"Here, I can get that for you," he says.

Thankfully, there was no "ma'am" tacked on the end of that sentence.

I smile. He bends down and carries two bags. I carry one.

And I was very appreciative. Also grateful that I chose to wear a dress and heels that day.

P.S. Dear Ms. Steinem, I know I am not supposed to think like this. But I do. I want boys to open building doors for me if we arrive in front of one at the same time, but I think waiting in the car for him to hop out and come let me out of my seat is crazy. I am not opposed to looking a bit helpless when I have to carry something heavy or do something dusty, but I also expect to get paid equally for the same work in the office. I will help move furniture, cut wood and sweep the garage. But I also expect him to occasionally do laundry, always carry the cooler and take out the garbage.  I hope you don't kick me out.

Walking Down the Aisle

I left out one of my lovers yesterday.

If you remember, Swimming was a no second date, Running was sex before dinner, the Elliptical was wholly unappetizing to me and Biking was nice ... but a bad kisser.

I left out my soulmate. The one I'd marry.

Walking.

Walking isn't as flashy as Running. Not as movie star hot and without the garish sex appeal. Like a beautiful man who worries about himself before you, Running will bring you drama ... and injury. He will make you push yourself farther than you want to go as you search for the high his love can bring. He might make you question your limitations and push yourself farther than you should go ... even when it hurts.

Running burns hot and fast ... but it's not sustainable for the long term.

Walking is slower. And steadier. But he's good and true and reliable. He'll never leave you or cheat on you. His fire burns strong and deep and the embers will last you a lifetime. Walking will get you all of the benefits of Running without all the drama. Like your real husband, he might not be everyone else's idea of a dreamboat, but he knows how to flip your switch and fits your soul just perfectly. He wants what is best for you. He takes care of you.

They both make you sweat. In a good way. But Walking will never make you cry. He's there when the others hurt you. He picks up the pieces and lets you carry on, never asking questions or demanding apologies.

Ultimately, they both will carry you up the hills you'll face in your lifetime. But Running will put a lot of stress on your joints on the uphill and even more on the downhill. Walking is good on flat ground, yes. But it's also the ONLY way to get to the highest peak of Mt. Everest or carry you out of the lowest valley of the Grand Canyon.

Romantical, isn't it?

Three Hours and 51 Minutes is a Long Time to Entertain Yourself

OK, here's the truth:

I don't really like biking. I like it MUCH better than swimming. But not NEARLY as much as running. Or, think of it this way:

I would never go on a second date with Swimming. I would totally have sex with Running on the first date -- might not even make it through dinner first. Biking? I'd let him take me out a few times while secretly hoping something better (like sexy Mr. Running) would come along. He'd be a great date for a wedding when I needed a "plus 1." We'd even make out a little, but it wouldn't be that great. Better than nothing, but he's just not that good of a kisser. He tries hard, don't get me wrong. And he's perfectly nice, cute enough. I know he'd make a solid, stable husband ... good earning potential and my parents would like him.

But there's just no spark. And after a while, we just run out of things to talk about.

All that being said, I need biking right now. I need to keep my quads strong to help alleviate as much knee pain as possible. I need to spend a good portion of my cardio time on low/no impact exercise.

(And if Swimming is a no second date, Mr. Elliptical Machine ... the only other no-impact cardio available ... has a few STDs, a flesh-eating disease, belongs to PETA/Palin for President/Scientology and has really, really, really bad breath. You can date him. Maybe you met a better one. I just don't like him. )

Hence the 54 miles yesterday.

Here's what I discovered ... nearly 4 hours by yourself, listening to your own thoughts is a Long. Damn. Time.

I don't dare wear music. Riding on 55 mph roads for part of my route makes that impossible. I need all my senses and then some to stay safe.

That leaves me and my own head.

Yesterday, my head ran out of things to think about long about hour 3. The last 51 minutes were not so much a physical challenge as they were a mental one. I started to convince myself that I was tired. That the hill in front of me was too big. (Ironically, Big Hill Park is called such for a reason!) That my back hurt. That my neck hurt. That my butt hurt. That I wasn't sure I'd make it home.

I eventually pulled over on Highway D, got off my bike, stretched and walked around for about 5 minutes. I twisted my back, did some arm circles, touched my toes, drank some water, did some head rolls and breathed.

I must have rattled my brain around enough, because when I got back on my bike, I was ready for the two miles home and all was well once I got here.

Today, I wasn't sore or anything, so I know that my body was able to handle it physically. Yes, my legs were like concrete when I tried to run today. So I just walked most of the 6 miles I put in.

But that's OK.

If this biking thing is here to stay, and long rides are a part of that, I need to think of ways to stay engaged while I'm out there.

Any suggestions?

My Current Excuses

This is the pattern in my brain right now.

"I have a lunch date, a baby shower and a Friday night fish fry this week. Guess that means this week is shot and I will start eating better next week."

"I ate my normal bagel for breakfast. And some grapes. And a handful of pretzels for breakfast. Which sort of ruins the day. Guess that means today is shot and I'll start eating better tomorrow."

"Shit. I forgot to do my strength workout today. Guess that means this week is shot and I'll get back on track next week."

"Man, I'm tired this morning. I'm only going to do my short route today and I'll go longer tomorrow."

Guess what? Tomorrow doesn't come. Next week doesn't change. I keep saying I'm going to start "later" and then I don't.

I just find a new excuse.

It's a damn dangerous habit.

How do you stop eating badly? You stop eating badly. This minute. And the next minute. And the minute after that.

How do you drag your ass out of bed every day to exercise? You drag your ass out of bed every day.

You stop lying to yourself and accepting the excuses your brain dreams up.

Is it hard? Yes. But it's not complicated.