I've Got To Get To The Gym!

I haven't been to the gym in a week now.  My left knee has been bothering me for a couple of weeks, and of course, my riding marathon didn't help, but I've had bad knees as long as I can remember.  I've literally shredded the meniscii in both knees and mostly I can live with it.

Nebalee thinks I'm at a point where my fitness level exceeds my body's ability.  It sort of makes sense - I'm cardiovascularly and muscularly fit enough to hit the gym five times a week, including boot camp, but my joints aren't liking it.  She ran into the same problem with her foot while training for a half-marathon.  I'm actually to the point in my workouts with El Poquito Diablo, that I'm leaving the training sessions frustrated because I can only give about 80% due to my knee.  If I don't get something figured out soon, I'm going to go nuts.

I'm tired of living on Advil and sleeping with ice packs on my knees (let me tell you how sexy that is); I'm tired of getting up from any position gingerly; I'm tired of *having* to wear tennis shoes.

I actually planned on going to the gym today, knee be damned.

But my GI tract had other plans.  My running today consisted mainly of from the bed or couch to the bathroom.  I'm not certain that counts as exercise.

*sigh*

Maybe I can make it to the gym on Thursday.

Date Night

Last night was the 3rd Annual Saucy Affair, a fundraiser for my beloved 9HealthFair.  I've wanted to take RCC since they began doing this as their primary fundraiser.  This year, they offered a raffle for volunteers - if your name was drawn you got a free ticket when you purchased a regular ticket.  I threw my name in the raffle and got lucky enough to be one of the winners.  At $65.00 a person, it was pretty much the only way I'd get to take RCC.

Fifteen or so of Denver's restaurants competed for the "People's Choice" title; each restaurant served small plates for the participants to choose from, each plate had to have a sauce (it was, after all, a "saucy" challenge).  I knew that there would be a huge chance that most of the restaurants would serve seafood, which is disgusting as far as I'm concerned.  But I also knew that whatever I didn't eat, RCC would.




I did something I rarely do - I got all girled up: hair, makeup, jewelry, dress and heels.  I drew the line at hose; the etiquette people will just have to get over my bare legs.  It felt good to slip into my black dress and not feel like I was going to bust out the seams.  And, don't anyone repeat this, it was kinda fun to be a girly-girl for a little bit.  Approximately 20 minutes, anyway.  That's all it took for my feet to start hurting and my knees to rebel.

In the meantime, RCC and I drank "free" wine and ate ourselves sick.  The restaurant that got my "People's Choice" vote was Texas de Brazil - they served garlic mashed potatoes and flank steak with chimichurri.  They actually won my vote with the garlic mashed, but then I tasted the flank steak and about fell out it was so good.  RCC voted for Avenue Grill, which served a shrimp with a soy-ginger sauce.  Texas de Brazil won, pretty much hands-down.  It was truly the garlic mashed that won it for them - everyone was talking about it.

I was excited to see a handful of people that I work with during the planning stages of the 9HealthFair.  In fact, I told RCC that I felt a little like a celebrity there for a bit.  My phlebotomy classes for the medical assisting and nursing students in the Northern Council are garnering a fair bit of attention at the corporate level.  Seeing people who were genuinely happy to see RCC and me was a bonus.  I went not expecting to run into anyone we know.


The evening was topped off with cupcakes on the way out the door from one of Denver's favorite cupcake vendors, the Denver Cupcake Truck.

As much fun as I had, I couldn't wait to get my dang heels off and get ice on my knees, which swelled more and more by the minute.  I don't know how other women can wear heels to work, as part of their grown up clothes.  I think I'll stick with wearing scrubs and tennis shoes.

You know you've got a good husband when...

...he tells you your ass is better than half of the college girls' asses he sees every day.

I think I'll keep him.

My Cat Can Beat Up Your Dog

...and I've got the warning summons to show it (of course, my phone's not playing nicely and I can't get it to upload).

Last week a disgruntled concerned neighbor visited our home to complain that our cat attacked his dog.  His precious little Shih Tzu got beat up by our little black and white cat.

I opened my mail today to find a "warning summons" for an "Animal at Large" who is a "Public Nuisance".  The officer's notes:

The cat was at large in the informant's yard and attacked his dog.

I have to tell you, my neighbor's a lot more secure in his manhood than I would have expected.  I mean, to admit - to Animal Control, no less - that my little five pound black and white ball of fluff kicked the ever-loving shit out of his little ball of fluff  dog.

Who is he going to complain to when the coyotes get ahold of his little precious?  Our neighborhood may have been recently incorporated into the city limits, but someone forgot to tell all the coyotes that they're not country coyotes anymore.

Randomness

My boss likes to send out daily inspirations.  Mostly I look at them, nod and throw them in the recycle bin.  Today's, though, cracked me the hell up.

Expecting the world to treat you fairly because you are a good person is a little like expecting the bull not to attack you because you are a vegetarian.

~Dennis Wholey

Breaking Habits

The hardest habit I'm finding to break is how I order food.  For example, whenever I run through a fast-food place, I know that a kids' meal will fill me up, but I can't seem to wrap my brain around the fact that a kids' meal will fill me up and I end up ordering a "grown up" meal. 

That I never finish. 

Gotta stop that and build a new habit.

Better Than A Poke In The Eye

...Or not.

Today, when we were breaking down our stages and putting away the target stands, I was following Mez into the trailer with a target stand in each hand.  The target stands aren't heavy at all, but they are kind of unwieldy and as I negotiated the maze in the trailer, I tripped and caught the end of the stand on a box, which caused the far end of the 1x2 to dip down.  Unfortunately, Mez chose that exact moment to turn around to head back out of the trailer.

He ducked down and grabbed his eye.  At first, I thought he'd seen what happened and was ducking to get out of the way, but then I realized that I'd hit him with the tip of the 1x2 in the face.  My heart sank.

Luckily, the wood just grazed his cheekbone and took the top layer of skin off his right eye lid.  It could have been so much worse.  I'm still appalled that it happened and so very thankful it wasn't worse.

Of course, the joke the rest of the day was that I actually like Mez and he's one of my friends.  My enemies better watch out.

On a happier note, I am so thrilled with the results I'm seeing from El Poquito Diablo and the gym.  The side match today (bonus match after the regular match is over) was a rifle stage.  Mez brought his STG-58, a .308 carbine, for us to shoot.  Empty, it weighs in at 9.25#.  I have no idea how much it weighs fully loaded.  If my run through the stage had gone perfectly, I wouldn't have needed the extra oompf. 

However, it did not go smoothly and the strength I've gained allowed me to finish the stage.  9# doesn't seem like a lot of weight, but keeping that weight balanced with my arms extended out in front of me while trying to clear the misfeeds...well, that gun got heavy fast.  By the end of my run, my right bicep was shaking and I was short of breath.  El Poquito Diablo is always telling me to breathe.  Maybe I should try it some time.

Tomorrow, I get to teach my future SIL (Junior's girl) to shoot.  (I love teaching other women to shoot.)  And I think Estes is recovered enough to go for a ride in the afternoon.  Can't wait!

Getting Back to Normal

Or as close to normal as our house gets. 

Estes is getting better every day, though she's still awfully skinny.  I didn't know that one of the early signs of sand colic is sudden weight loss - she always drops a lot of weight about this time each year, so when the weight came off, we didn't even think of sand colic.  In retrospect, she's probably built up a bit of sand in her gut every year and has just been lucky enough in the past not to colic from it.  I'm hopeful that once we get her gut cleared out (only another couple of days of psyllium) she'll start gaining weight again.  Right now, she looks like we've starved her even though she's been getting more food than the others for a month or so now.

I was gone from the gym for a week.  It was completely unintended.  El Poquito Diablo and I met the Wednesday before Estes colicked; I had to work all day on Thursday; my Friday fell apart and I didn't make it; Saturday, I shot the Steel Challenge and went to the Corn Roast Festival with RockCrawlinChef and then Sunday the shit hit the fan.  Or not, actually.  There was no shitting going on with Estes, which was a big part of the problem.  Long story short, it was a full week that I hadn't stepped foot in the gym.  I was afraid of the damage that I'd done with not working out and stress eating M&Ms.

Imagine my surprise when we did my measurements and I was down two pounds and 2/10th of an inch off my rear end.  I guess all that walking between the pen, the Lodge and the Livery burned a calorie or two after all.

I'm back in the gym on a more regular basis now and feeling so much better.  I'm starting to feel the changes in my body.  I've lost 26#, but I didn't feel like my body shape was changing much - it was just getting smaller.  Now, I can feel that my shape is actually changing.  In videos of me shooting last week, I actually have forearm muscles!  It's an interesting feeling, feeling body parts shifting and changing, but I'm not going to complain.

This morning in boot camp, I actually sprinted!  And was leading the suicides we were running.  Until I couldn't breathe.  Dang I hate that.  It was painfully obvious that I am the sprinter of the family, while Nebalee is the distance runner.  I ran fast and peaked early.  Nebalee kept a steady pace and was able to finish while I was praying the wall would continue to hold me upright.