I first saw this posted on a friend's Facebook page. An intriguing reflection and lots of food for thought.
I was right. Week 2 was the last gimme workout of this C25k program. Remember those classes in school? The gimme ones you were almost guaranteed an ‘A’ if you just showed up, and sometimes even that wasn’t required? Well, now I’m in the major workout program…5 minute warm-up walk, 90 second jog, 90 second walk, 3 minute jog, 3 minute walk, 90 second jog, 90 second walk, 3 minute jog, 3 minute walk, 5 minute cool-down walk. The first 3-minute jog I managed to squeak, which was the first time I have ever ever ever jogged for three minutes. Yes, I was a jock in high school, but I played volleyball and basketball, which was short court warm-ups and sprints, and I ran track, which again was just short distances. I’m a little ashamed to admit that I never even ran the two-lap warm-ups. A measly 800 yards and I couldn’t even do it back then at my peak. That second 3-minute jog, though? It gave me problems and I had to hop off the treadmill for a few seconds…20 or 30…before continuing. Still, not bad for a 44-year old overweight couch potato!
Earlier this week, while my daughter and I were going over her calendar I penciled my name in on Friday, just so that she would spend a day with me! We had a terrific morning. After we dropped my son off at school, she and I went to a great new coffee shop, FiddleCakes, where we partook in C&P (coffee and philosophy), although she actually had hot cocoa. We discussed her philosophy paper and brainstormed ideas for the revision, then surfed the web looking at clothes. Then we picked up her brother from school (he had to leave early to go to the soccer tournament in west TN). After getting him snacks and us sushi we dropped him off and headed over to Icon, where we made the appointment to get our mother-daughter tattoos for Mother’s Day. Yes, a tattoo. Last year, when she turned eighteen, Clark and I gave Ray a tattoo for her birthday. She loved it so much she started planning another one and asked me if I’d get a tattoo with her. Not really thinking, I said sure, how about next Mother’s Day? Well, guess what? Mother’s Day is just around the corner and Mom has to honor her promise. This brought up the dilemma of what exactly we should get. Ryann’s signature flower is the sunflower, but I don’t really have a flower. I like daffodils, but don’t want one tattooed on my body, y’know? Ryann is getting her tattoo on her wrist and I’m getting it on my ankle, so we thought a band would be nice. I researched some sayings and poems and found this one: “The bond between a mother and daughter begins and ends in love.” It was perfect, but a little wordy. So now we have decided to go with an ambigram “Mother-Daughter” and a Celtic heart joining them together. Our appointment is in May and the tattoo artist is drawing up the ambigram now. Pictures to follow for sure!
I don’t know why I thought school soccer would be relaxing and less busy. The boy is playing both Varsity and Junior Varsity this year, which means he goes to *every* game, which means mom needs to be at *every* game! This week he had practice on Monday hen games all week long, including a Varsity tournament out of town Friday and Saturday. To his credit, Kyle admitted he doesn’t play much on Varsity so Mom doesn’t have to drive 2-1/2 hours to the tournament…this year. Next year, however, when he will most likely start Varsity I have been informed I must be at every game, even the ones that are far away!
I hit a tiny stumble with my birthday gift to myself when I started too fast with the Couch-to-5k program. After taking the weekend to heal up from achy joints and shins, I started anew on Monday, March 15, only this time I went to the Y and worked out on the treadmill. OMG, what a difference!! There is something to be said about not pounding asphalt and traversing hills when you’re just starting out. The first week went great and at times I found myself in a great rhythm and not hating the jog at all. I think this is the last easy week, though. Still I keep imaging myself on the 5k course in May, jogging across the finish line. Should be fun!
Clark woke me up this morning to let me know Mimi had passed away during the night. I wasn’t surprised, but it still hurt so much. She was a great cat, a beautiful and gentle soul, who deserved a much better end than this. I keep hearing her little squeaky meow and catching glimpses of her from the corner of my eye when I’m walking through the house. When I turn into the driveway I look to the front windows and then the den window along the drive, expecting to see "Her Mimi-ness" sitting there, waiting for me to get home. I know she was technically my daughter’s cat, but we had bonded so much this last summer. Whenever I sat down in one of the den’s recliners, Mimi would be right there to sit between my legs. At night or if I lay down for a nap during the day, she would come into our bedroom, hop on the bed, and then walk up my side from my ankles all the way to my shoulders, then she would sniff at my hair, turn around and settle down on my hip, a warm heavy comfortable weight. I miss her so much. I only hope that wherever Mimi is now that there is a sunny window ledge for her and she’s soaking up the rays.
So after such a traumatic day yesterday, I needed some decompression and fun. I also felt like I needed a break from church. Every time I go, I get wrangled into conversations about church business and tonight I just wanted to have fun. Clark and I headed to Dan McGuinness Irish Pub in Cool Springs where we met up with our friend Michael. It was PACKED to the gills with people decked out in green. I was in such a funk today I forgot about wearing green and ended up wearing an olive green zip-up hoodie all day. Anyway we managed to find half of a table. There was a couple on the other end and they were great about letting us sit there. The music was great, my hard cider was tasty and the lamb stew I had was delicious. About half-way through the evening I realized this was the first time I had ever gone out on for St. Patrick’s Day! When the kids were younger, I would put green food coloring in their eggs and milk, but go out to a bar? Nope, never! Damn, I’m an Irish red-head with green eyes and freckles and it took me 40 years to celebrate?
Early this morning I was awakened by my husband's voice. He was on the other side of the house, outside, yelling at the top of his lungs. Seconds later I was there with him telling me that our daughter's tortie had been attacked by two dogs and she had run away. He headed out to find the dogs while I got dressed and started searching for the cat. Not in the laundry room. No answer from the crawl space under the house. I finally got a flashlight and started looking under the cars. There was Mimi. I didn't see any blood which was good, but the memories came flooding back from October 2005 when our daughter's other cat, Kage Neko, was mauled by two dogs. That cat was bloody and almost lost his leg. Clark said Mimi had run, which was another good sign. Clark gets back from his walk, unable to locate the perpetrators, and we finally get the poor thing out from under the car. A couple of hours and hundreds of dollars later, we have been to three veterinary clinics. The emergency clinic gave her fluids with pain meds and took x-rays. A couple of broken ribs, but nothing else. Lots of bruising, but no bad punctures (Kage's tail had almost been severed and had a puncture just millimeters from his rectum, which could have been fatal). So we leave Mimi at the animal hospital that cared for our last mauling victim. They are giving her more pain meds, observing her contusions and will be taking another x-ray this afternoon. So now it's just after 9 a.m. and I'm tired, hungry and in need of caffeine. Mimi's girl, our daughter, is at the Phoenix airport, boarding a plane to Nashville. Definitely not how I planned on spending my day off and definitely not news I wanted to give our daughter on her return home. I do hope we get something good to report before she lands.
This was the present that my kids got me for my birthday...a ceramic mug that looks like a paper cup. Back in January Clark took me see Kris Kristofferson as an early birthday present. So what would I give myself? For the big 4-0 I went back to school and two years later received my college degree. This birthday was the big four-four, a double number year (two of my second favorite numbers adding up to eight, my all-time favorite number). The numbers feel fortunate so I started looking at the years behind me and the year ahead. My first double (11) was not so great. The next double (22) I committed to dumping my dead-end jobs and getting employed with good pay and benefits. The third double (33) was the end of my first marriage, which really was a good thing. So this double (44) I thought would be a good time to get my health in order. I've read several tweets about people doing the couch to 5K program, which gets you in shape enough to finish a 5K in two months. I even found a great podcast which will take me through each workout with music telling me when to walk, when to run, when to cool-down. So, now I have a plan and in May I plan on running a 5K. I have run a 5K before, but never truly "trained" for the event. This time I don't want to straggle across the finish line, I want to sprint!
Nashville got some snow this past weekend and, wonder of wonders, it actually stuck. In 2003, the last time I remember having this much snow, we were living in Hermitage with the driveway from hell (gravel, steep incline, off a busy street). This time it was much easier to get out when needed, but we mainly hunkered in and enjoy the winter wonderland.
The boy child, however, spent the night at a friend's house and played in the snow sans hat and gloves several times before I managed to dress him properly. Needless to say, he caught himself a nasty cold. I'd like to think that the next time we have snow, he'll listen to his mother about covering his extremities, but I doubt it. He is after all a *15-year old* *male* neither condition lending itself to listening to Mom (*grown-up* *female*). After three days out of school, I hope the kids get back to school tomorrow and that all the parents survived this unscheduled break!
Normally I'm not an emotional fan-girl type, but this weekend I got caught up in the blog of one of my favorite authors, Neil Gaiman. A furry house guest of his, Zoe, has been ill and had to be put to sleep today. If you're interested, you can read about his and her journey on Neil Gaiman's blog, start with Wednesday's entry. I have no idea why I got so caught up in this or why I can't get that little cat out of my thoughts. Maybe it is because our own animals are getting older and I dread the day I have to tell my 15-year old son that the pup he has loved since the first grade has to go away.
So this new year season has brought about much reminiscing, not to mention debate about when decades begin and end. Although logic dictates that decades run from '01 to '10, human nature is more inclined to go '00 to '09. After all, is 1990 part of the '80's or '90's? Enough on that, I myself was just thinking about how significant the years ending in "9" have been in my life, except for '69 when I was only three years old. So here goes a quick re-cap of my life...
