exercise – Lori's Life and Other Stuff

Face Punch

On the Peloton platform, they’ve gamified fitness utilizing badges and milestones to mark significant workouts. Garmin does this too, as does Apple and other fitness trackers. I have no judgment about this – I find them motivating. I would still move my body without them, of course, but it is fun!

We have a Sober Squad within the many Peloton sub-communities. We’ve had meetups and zoom meetings and cheer each other on during PowerZone challenges. It’s fun and like any fitness activity, having community and accountability helps! One of my sober Pelo buddies is reaching his 1,000th ride right about the same time I am so we had planned to ride a live class together. (Live rides are done in real time, instructors can see you on the leaderboard, along with the 1500 other people riding also.) Many members do these for milestones in the hopes of a shout-out. I am no different and tomorrow will be a live Millennium ride!

But to get to tomorrow, I had ride #999 to get through first. After warming up, getting my strength classes in, I noticed my left shoe wasn’t clipped in all the way.

The culprit. Also, don’t mind the dog hair all over my yoga mat. I had two “helpers”.

Luckily, I had another pair of pedals on hand. “No problem. I will switch them out,” I thought to myself. “Nothing is gonna keep me from tomorrow’s class!”

I grab my tools and the box with the other pedals in them and set to work. I watch YouTube tutorials (left side turns opposite) and learn all about pedal installation. I am a person who likes to dig in and do things. It frustrates me when I can’t figure something out. I mean, we live in the age of the internet, right?! Everything is figure-out-able.

I cannot for the life of me get the pedal to turn. I cannot get the old pedals off. I call Eric for moral support and to make sure I’m doing it right. Also to ask if we have any WD40 or any other brilliant ideas he may have, so I can get this job done. He offers to take them off when he gets home. That’s my last resort because A. I want to do this myself and B. I really don’t like riding in the evening and I want fresh(ish) legs for tomorrow’s fun.

After a quick trip to the store for WD40 – because of course this is the time to discover we are out, I return home. I spray the pedals down and pull and yank on the wrench. They aren’t budging. I grab something to eat while I wait for the WD40 to work it’s magic. I sit behind the pedal and try again. I pull, I grit my teeth, I squeeze my eyes shut, and pull again.

It comes loose!

Then the pain sets in as I catch my breath, realizing I have just punched myself in the face with my own fist and the wrench. I cry, both from relief that the dang thing finally came undone, and also because I feel the blood rushing toward cheekbone, now pulsing from the pain.

I move to the other side of the bike, crank that one loose, and happily avoid giving myself another Marsha Brady football-to-the-nose face. I install the new pedals, and as I sit there in stunned silence, I hear the garage door open.

“You did NOT come home just because of my pedal fiasco, did you?” I holler to Eric as he walks in, smiling.

“I did,” he replies. I burst into tears again. He laughs, I laugh – and show him that I got them off but not without injury. He hands me Tylenol and heads back to work.

I settle in to my new pedals, ready to ride #999. So I can then ride #1000 tomorrow with friends.

What adds insult to injury is that this morning I was just chatting with friends about yoga, meditation and finding that flow state while working out physically. That we can sit and be in the uncomfortable and how that translates to life outside of working out. Today was definitely not a meditative workout. It was far from zen. They can’t all be life transforming. Some are infinitely more memorable than others.

I have no doubt that the memory of riding the millennium ride will not be without the thought of a punch to my own face.

Yellow Orbs

Settling into our new home, we’ve been taking the dogs on early morning and later evening walks. The sun of course bakes the asphalt during the heat of the day, so walking at cooler times works best. (I love that yellow orb in the sky! So delightfully warm compared to the PNW, and not the intense humidity of South Texas.) Each walk we inevitably pass by a house down the road from us that has a gorgeous lemon tree. When we have driven by it, I have commented on how sad the lemons on the ground were and that I wondered if they gave them away to neighbors if they weren’t going to use them.

I must have mentioned the lemons enough times to exasperate the kids. “Why don’t you just go ask them?” they inquired, curious as to why I wouldn’t just go knock on the door of a random stranger and ask for some of their fruit.

“Um, because my skin would peel off of my bones and I might die,” I replied incredulously, envisioning worst case scenarios of being yelled at to get off someone’s lawn or some other such horror. We all laughed as we again affirmed that both my husband and daughter are the family extroverts that keep my son and I out and doing things, and we keep them semi-grounded with our homebody-ness.

Formulating a game plan for our next dog walk – we planned, in fact, to knock on the door of a stranger and ask for some of their fruit.

Our street is a giant hill that ends in a cul-de-sac, so it’s a great workout. In the shadow of the hills behind the house, we get cool evenings and delightful sunsets. We’ve seen countless giant monarch butterflies, geckos and my favorite jacaranda and palm trees. I love living in a place where purple trees grow. I love living where the citrus grows. I had forgotten how fresh and delicious produce here is year round. We had a watermelon the other day that both my son and I claim is the best one we’ve ever had. (Though we will keep eating all the melons to make sure!)

We rounded the corner, them on the side of the street with the lemon house, me with the dogs on the opposite side of the street with the doggos, primed and ready to keep walking and pretend I don’t know them if needed. Knocking on the door, they see a little sign noting lemons for sale with a money box beside it. Eric chatted with the lemon purveyor for a bit, then joined up with me holding not only lemons, but a long box. Lemon Purveyor and my husband had a nice chat about moving to the area recently and loving the neighborhood and thanks for the lemons and all the small talk. Somehow new to the area means “Thanks for buying some lemons, here’s a bonus, too!”

They reach me with lemons as big as my face that smell incredible! Eric laughs as he shows me the box is a pack of lightbulbs and shrugs his shoulders and we carry on our walk.

Today after a morning swim, farmer’s market fun, and other errands, we whipped up a batch of scratch lemonade that was liquid perfection.

Our closet lights also got switched to brighter, free bulbs! Not bad for an evening stroll with the dogs.

Community

Like most people who jumped on the Peloton bandwagon, I LOVE the bike that goes no where. It has helped me maintain fitness through the winters in rainy western Washington, a pandemic and homeschooling! All without leaving my house! With all of the modalities available on one platform (strength, stretching, yoga, shadowboxing, cardio, walking and running outdoors, and even meditation!), it really is like having a full service gym right in the house. The kicker though, is community. Having people that are in it with you – that’s what sets any fitness program (and life!) ahead of the rest!

Every time I hop on the bike and click into a ride, there are always other riders on the leaderboard. We high-five, (ironically by slapping their face – ahem – their profile picture), give encouragement and sling a ton of sweat. Within the greater Peloton community there are interest based groups on social media that further encourage and motivate. Like dogs? There’s a Peloton group for that. Peloton Dads, Peloton Moms, Vegans, Sober groups, U.K., Canadian and Australian groups, Power Zone people ….anything you can imagine there’s likely a subset of Peloton people with that interest. It’s awesome.

Some folks see it as a gamification of fitness. (But really, who cares if it gets people moving?!) Peloton recently released an actual game that has no instructors, but mimics a toned down version of Mario Kart, called Lanebreak. I’m sure the company did tons of research and psych analyses to figure out how to keep people engaged. While Lanebreak isn’t my absolute favorite (I like an instructor engaging with the class), I am not immune to the rewards that the screen passes out when I reach milestones in daily streaks, challenges, and miles ridden all bestowed upon the rider in the form of a badge. It’s honestly pretty ridiculous how motivating a little badge on a screen is. I know intellectually it’s laughable, but I cannot deny its effectiveness.

Badges can be earned for all kinds of milestones, number of workouts, personal bests in terms of power output, workout streaks, etc. I got an email from Peloton for a free gift from the apparel department for completing 15k minutes of time spent working out. Silly? Perhaps, but I’m not turning down free yummy workout duds!

This week marks my 2 year “Pelo-versary”. For two years, at least one day a week, I have done something for my health and wellness. It is the most consistently disciplined I have been for the longest stretch. And two years in, I still really love it. WIth all of the health stats and metrics measured, it’s not just riding a bike in my house and listening to music. It’s tangible evidence of health improvements. With Power Zone training specifically, you can see where your current fitness level is at, and grow it from there. It’s personal training at scale – and it is very motivating to see progress over time. You cannot beat the challenges within the Power Zone Pack community!

Brene Brown’s latest book Atlas of the Heart defines many human emotions, but explains that we are social being that desire belonging to the group. (Even us introverts!) Given the isolation of the last 2 years, it’s obvious that we need each other – in life and in fitness!

Hair on Fire

“Well, at least the washer is new so there won’t be that deployment gremlin,” I chuckled two days ago as we folded clothes together, getting him all packed up for what will be our LAST separation. Letting the kids finish up the school year, we are staying behind for a few months while he goes on ahead to start the next gig.

I woke up at 2:30am this morning from a dream that my hair was on fire. Like deep REM sleep to fully alert in what felt like 3 seconds. One minute I’m talking to Nancy Pelosi and wondering why my hair is burning (Um, hello subconscious. Why are you so weird?!), to racing around the house quietly trying to sniff out the source. “Where is it coming from?” I thought, unplugging everything electric in my house. I quickly dial Eric and think of our laundry conversation, groaning internally at the thought that I just had to say something and jinx us! Getting the emergency number for our housing office, I dial them and am also directed to call 911. At this point, they have asked us to evacuate everyone out of the house as a precautionary measure. Firetruck is on the way.

Have I mentioned that our area has been blasted with snow since Christmas?! I grabbed the keys and warmed up the car, then waking up the kids, I told them to bundle up, that we are going to sit in the car with the dogs until the firetruck arrives. I thought of the most ridiculous things, like how the kitchen is dirty, and that if this turns into an *actual* fire, I won’t have to wash those dishes I left in the sink last night. Dog poop bags, gloves and coats, dog sweaters, I get the broom to brush off the snow so I can see to at least pull my car out of the driveway. I’m still in my pajamas and winter boots and running on nothing but adrenaline.

We had heard a weird chirping noise coming from the furnace closet the day before, and had planned to call housing about it. I thought maybe it was a belt going bad, perhaps that was what the smell was? (I know just enough to be dangerous, of course.) The smell was permeating the whole house, so furnace was my best guess.

Firemen arrive and I let them know what I know, and they tell us to sit tight while they inspect the house. I texted Eric and informed him of the situation and he replied, “Take a pic for memories!” “Seriously?!” I mutter aloud, smirking as I discreetly snap said picture.

The lead fireman came out and told me my house needed a different scented candle, that the one I was using does not smell good. Ohhhhh, okay. Fireguy has jokes at 3am. I laughed, and he explained that they did locate the source of the smell to the furnace and that maintenance would take care of it. We shut off the furnace and were able to come back inside and wait. The firemen start to leave, apologizing for wet bootprints all over the floor. “Your house is so clean, I feel bad,” one of them remarked. I laughed again and told them they’ve all made my day. Not only did they compliment my cleaning skills, (ridiculous that that makes me happy to the degree that it does), but also the fact that I wasn’t in fact crazy and they could recreate the smell, and the source was accurate. And of course that it wasn’t an ACTUAL fire and there wasn’t any danger to minions or pets. Whew.

Maintenance arrives and discovers the furnace motor is not happy. At this point I’ve been up for over an hour and 4 am seems like just as good a time as any to make coffee. Mr. Maintenance takes out the motor to take back to the shop to make it happy again. He replaces the filter and gives us space heaters to use while he’s working, because someone invited Santa and his North Pole weather to stay for a week after Christmas and it’s getting frigid in my house with no furnace. Time for Santa to take his snow and go home!

I decided that if I want to hit my mileage/badge goal for the year, I better get on the bike sooner, rather than later, as we will no doubt have a nap in our future or be heading to bed early – regardless of it being New Year’s Eve. “I have 7 miles to bike today,” I explained to my mom as I had recounted all of the morning’s “excitement” over FaceTime coffee at 5am. I was starting to fade and realized I better get it done or when Mr. Maintenance showed back up, or I would have to interrupt the ride, or worse – not have the energy to do it later. On the bike I went!

It was the perfect icy cold temperature to workout in – and I got the planned miles and challenge badge I was aiming for. (Honestly, it’s the silliest things that are motivating.) Year-end goal accomplished! Just as I was finishing up the cooldown ride, Mr. Maintenance knocked, ready to turn the furnace back on with a recently re-tooled motor freshly installed in the furnace.

Crises averted, hair decidedly not on fire, and heat back on with no odor, it now feels like 872 o’clock. Happy New Year to us!

And here’s to NO MORE GREML– Wait!

Scratch that. I’m not making that mistake again!

Good Riddance 2021!! Yeah, let’s go with that.

Coarse

I felt irritable and crotchety. This is an excerpt from a piece I wrote last spring…

No specific reason, but generally I’m irritatble. I have been consistently exercising, and eating well for the most part. I’m getting enough sleep. The kids are doing as well as can be expected despite the pandemic and limited social interaction. They are finding ways to seek and spread joy. (And play all the computer games.) We are reading at night, spending as much time outdoors during the day as is possible, anxiously anticipating the warmth of the coming months.

I feel like sandpaper. A coarse grit sandpaper rubbing on a rough plank with lots of slivers stuck up every which way. While I know the plank will eventually be smooth, right now it’s a matter of knocking the little flecks off and rounding off the sharp edges. The edges lately have been words like COVID, pandemic, restrictions, ‘We’re in this together’, and all of the 9568 emails regarding school schedules and plans and contingency plans and plans for after the contingencies. I’m tired of the monotony. I think like many of us, I just want to feel a kind of normal. Not what was. Not the going backward to the “before times”. Just a new even keel. Whatever that is, just some kind of way that doesn’t feel uncomfortable and scratchy. The now is definitely uncomfortable, awkward and like the scratchiest pair of pants.

Ever.

As a trainer, I used to tell clients to get comfortable being uncomfortable. That’s where the magic happens, where change resides. Holding a squat or sprinting on a bike lasts for minutes at a time. Minutes – even a class – of uncomfortable, we can sit in and endure. Not a dang year. People-ing is hard. People-ing lately is pretty darn uncomfortable. A year of the uncomfortable is exhausting. And grating….frustrating, and, and, and….all the range of the covid coaster of emotions. I’m ready to be done with the sandpaper edges. For the slivers to be dust on the floor, the smell of the sawdust a distant memory.

I laugh at the then-year that had passed. It’s been 18 months of the not-normal. We camped and played all summer. It was a nice little break, but now that the kids have been back in school (and in person, with masks and distancing) it all feels so incredibly real and heavy once again. I came across a post from a teacher friend that for a 7th grader, 4th grade was their last uninterrupted “normal” school year. It came in the form of this graphic:

It took me a second to figure out that it was in fact the spring break of my son’s 5th grade year and my daughter’s 4th grade year that spring break we all went home and it hasn’t been normal since. Now in 7th and 6th they have adapted, as we all have – though knowing that none of this is ideal. In addition to the coarseness that I felt in the spring – I would add a numbness to it, too. A friend and I were recently discussing that it feels never-ending. Monotonous. Tiring.

Endurance is my jam. I can hang with the low and slow crowd forever. Running long distances was a love of mine for a long time. Now that I cycle more, endurance rides make me feel amazing without blowing up my legs. This covid era feels like a race where the finish line keeps getting extended. How long is the race? Dunno. How long will it take? Not sure. Water station? Ehhhh, they may be all out. Apparently we just have to keep going in spite of not being trained for this.

I’m not sure I need the finisher t-shirt for this particular race.

Scary

I have this thing: apparently I like to scare myself. I jump into things and then figure out the how. I ran track for 3 weeks in the 8th grade and then decided I hated running. When I signed up for my first running event, it was only because my friend said it was doable and dragged me along. I knew I could walk if we needed to, and we were actually doing this “let’s get fit” thing. Running races wasn’t something I thought I could do, let alone enjoy.

At 33 and post-baby #2 (over the course of 7 months while living in Hawaii) I did things I never thought possible. I ran a mile without stopping. Seems small, but it was big for me because I never thought I could.

Until I did.

It became longer. 5ks, 10ks, and even half-marathons. (That’s 13.1 miles. On feet.) It seemed insane, but when surrounded by others setting and smashing goals, the impossible seemed possible. Like, why couldn’t I do those things, too? At a get together during this time, over wine (back when I still drank), I made the slightly tipsy decision to run a marathon. I had lost weight, was working out (HARD) 5-6 days per week, and oh, why the heck not?! Never mind the fact that only a week before the marathon date, I’d already signed up for the Kualoa ranch Xterra half trail marathon. (Trail running DOES NOT equal a regular road race. At. All. Trail running is WAY, WAY harder.) But someone at the party said ‘It’s really very doable,’ as she explained a run-walk strategy. Impossible….becomes a maybe…becomes possible.

Our time in Hawaii taught me many things, including how to set goals for myself, how to dream big – even if it scares me – and that I can be a determined person when my mind is set. With 2020 being the circus it was, and the world in the chaos that it is, family, sobriety, and the bike in my living room that goes no where have been my outlet and sanity.

I haven’t run races in a few years due to injuries that get aggravated when I run over a 5k. After becoming a certified Spin instructor, my endorphin thirst was quenched on a bike instead of in running shoes. It’s been years since I participated in any events, but I still set goals and earn badges on the bike and through my fitness watch. (Side note: it’s the most trivial things like badges I find highly motivating.) The beauty of training this way is that metrics are measured which gives tangible evidence of improvement. I love improving.

Across the social pages along came the PeloFondo event. Riders set a mileage goal of their choosing, and then have 2 days to complete the miles. Thinking it would be fun and something to challenge myself before the next actual challenge begins in a week, I set my goal of 30 miles. Seemed achievable.

But…it didn’t really scare me. I’ve done 90 minute rides both indoor cycling and outdoor. So then I figured I could leave my goal at 30, but then actually ride 50 (because Garmin badges). That way I could play it safe, have a goal, but not push myself much harder.

A friend from the Hawaii days messaged years ago to say she was doing her first century ride. I remember this conversation vividly. (This was after we had all moved on to our next duty stations, but we still cheer each other on, even from across the globe.) This conversation planted a seed.

I swallowed and upped the mileage to 100.

One of the class instructors, Christine D’Ercole, often says in her classes to get curious. Instead of the mental chatter that tells us we can’t do something, that talks us out of all the things, she has this amazing motto: I am. I can. I will. I do. We change the chatter and get curious. What if I can do this thing? What if I can set a crazy-ass goal and actually achieve it? What if it takes forever? What if?

What. If.

I knew it would take me forever. I got ready and ordered the padded bike shorts and anti-chafing cream. (Somehow I missed the padded bike seat cover but my amazing husband popped out quick to the store and picked up not one, but two. He graciously fit one on while I was mid class!)

There were lots of stretching breaks between the classes. 2 peanut butter and jelly on whole wheat sammies, 3 apple pie Lara bars, 2 bananas, Nuun hydration tablets, and a LOT of water got me through. Not to mention the randomness of the post-ride feast!

Not necessarily pretty, but when you’re *hang*ry, anything edible tastes like heaven!

101.19 miles took me 6:30. Six and a half hours. (The marathon time was in this same ridiculous ballpark.) I will never win races or compete competitively, but I race me. (And…. occasionally my friend Bo. He typically creams me.)

3000 calories torched according to the watch. Four Garmin badges were earned:

(Seriously, it’s ridiculous that these little things excite me to the degree that they do.) The very last ride of the 12 completed today happened to be the 200th!

I am…..capable. I can….do hard things. I will….continue to set goals that scare me. I do…finish what I start. Thank you Christine for the words I didn’t know I needed.

It’s been a minute since I set a scary goal, let alone participated in a formal event. I missed it. I missed getting scared and pushing beyond that fear. Because really….why not? And what if?

9 Years

The notification that I’ve had this little corner of the internet for 9 years popped up today. Laughing, I joked to my husband that other than him and the kids I don’t think I’ve ever committed to anything that long. The thought took me back to where we were 9 years ago: getting ready for another heartbreaking military move from Hawaii back to Washington state. I had just finished my one (and only) marathon, but had successfully lost 40lbs attending a bootcamp class regularly. Consistently shutting down the voices in my head that said I wasn’t good enough, that I couldn’t do ____________, and was letting go of fear-based decision making. I got curious about my capabilities. I climbed volcanos, pushed out of comfort zones and checked off bucket list items before we left Oahu. The kids were a lot younger, and while those days were tiring (the endless days of diapers and deployments) it was just….different. I suppose it’s a bit of hindsight/rose-colored glasses affecting my memories. It seems like a lighter time in many ways, considering where we are now.

It was roughly 9 years ago, sitting in a restaurant with friends who had facilitated change that we swore we would never travel down this path again. We would stay healthy. We would do what it took, no matter what. Never again would we become sedentary.

The path of the last near-decade has in no way been linear.

The scale has gone up, it has gone down, and up and down over and over. Exercise has been a common thread, with chunks of time more consistent than others (hello rough bouts with anxiety and depression). I adopted a vegetarian diet and gave up all alcohol. It’s been a winding road to say the least. Regardless of process, it’s been a journey worth traveling.

I crave spin classes and took my first of many while living in Hawaii. Loved it so much in fact, that I studied and earned my teaching certificate and eventually led classes in a big box gym for a few years. The energy of other participants is incredible and when struggling to make it through a workout, that energy can carry you through the finish line. Exercise is an apropos metaphor for life. It’s surprisingly collective. Spin in particular is also binary. You either love it….or you hate it. There is no in between.

I am in the former category, but was skeptical when hearing about friends who had ordered from Peloton. Loving spin classes and having a stationary bike at home are very different things. I had a stationary bike that I rode when crafting spin classes and playlists. It was a super useful tool gifted to me, and I rode the heck out of it. To just get on it and ride and stare at the wall, though? Kind of like a ~~treadmill~~ dreadmill that sits in the garage collecting dust. I would much rather run or bike outside. I wondered if the Peloton would be just a very expensive replacement for the floordrobe (clothes not in a drawer or hung in the closet – the clothes that are neither clean, nor dirty and end up on the floor, aka floordrobe.) What was so special about this overpriced bike that goes no where with a giant TV stuck on the front of it? The last thing I wanted was unused workout equipment collecting dust (or clothes). After discussing with friends who couldn’t stop raving about how much they loved their bikes, one friend added me to her profile to check out the app and all it had to offer.

To say I was blown away would be an understatement.

I did a few workouts, and explored the app. I loved the outdoor audio coaching for walks and runs. Great music and great coaching made minutes and miles fly by. Strength, cardio, barre, stretching, yoga – and even meditation! There were so many instructors. If one didn’t excite – another one could easily be chosen. Didn’t like that playlist? No sweat – here’s a bunch of other classes! We made the decision to order a bike. The app sold it for us. Without any equipment, the app was so robust that I was sold. I was getting itchy to workout consistently again. I couldn’t wait to ride. My body craves movement. The experience of working in a couple of big box gyms was gratifying personally, and solidified why I love working hard in the first place. I just feel better when I do.

2020 has been devastating on many fronts, but there have been cracks of sunlight in the foreboding gloom of the year’s sky. The quieting of the constant busy, the lessened need of having to go and do. It was awesome seeing so many families active and outside this summer. The bike arrived as the warmer days were winding down. In the PNW, winter cold and rain always come. Days of enjoying those outdoor dog walks were dwindling. I knew the bike had arrived at exactly the right time. This will help me stay healthy and sane not only because of covid, but though the winter months when being outside is not feasible.

And it has.

Far from being an unused clothes-catcher, it has surpassed my expectations. There are countless groups such as PeloVegans, Dog Moms of Peloton, Sober Pelo, PeloDads, PeloMoms, 50 and 60+ groups, Power Zone Pack and more! The leaderboard sits on the screen where you see others working out with you, and where you can give and receive virtual high fives. (Sounds silly until you get some of those!) Instructors during live rides give shoutouts for milestones – even a Century club t-shirt from the company when you complete 100 rides. There are challenges, song request rides, artist series, in short – there is community.

A highly motivated community.

A community that doesn’t require me to go to the gym. I go to my living room. I don’t have to pack toiletries, or in the case of this year – miss out because the gym is closed. My bike is always open. The app is just a swipe away. Motivation awaits!

Attending bootcamp classes in the Hawaiian sun some 9 years ago was more than an exercise class. My success in that program was due in large part to the community it fostered. The races and running community – far more encouraging than I had ever realized before I’d ever laced up a pair of shoes. The gyms were I worked teaching clients one on one and in group settings were fun and engaging because of our communities, these crazy people who got their sweat on for an hour – together.

Whether it’s parenting, church, sobriety, friendships, education, and of course exercise – humans are herd animals. We need each other. We are much better when we are interdependent. 9 years of commitment, community and fitness. If they have taught me anything, and 2020 especially, it’s that we aren’t meant to go through life alone. As Glennon Doyle often says, “We belong to each other.”

We most certainly do.

See you on the Leaderboard friends! #CurlyMamaof2

2020 breakdown: 1099 miles since September, over 6000 minutes of activity consisting of 156 cycling classes, 59 walks with the app, 10 runs, and 22 yoga classes.

Corona-Style Visits

I was able to escape my family yesterday for an outing (with masks and social distancing, of course) and took my 2 little dogs for the adventure. I met up with my mom and our friends and walked nearly 3 miles around Coupeville, WA – which is a lot for little dogs with short legs! The view was gorgeous!

These are the beautiful Pacific Northwest days that fool people into moving here, not realizing it does rain here 8 months out of the year.

Silly doggies!

After our trek, we socially distanced on the porch and the dogs had treats. They were definitely worn out and ready for a mellow 4th of July.

After our dog walking adventure and heading back up to my hometown, Mom and I decided to do a drive thru coffee and head to a park with the dogs just to sit and continue our visit. The dogs were tired and it was time to go.

But…..

Anytime we get started on what we call, “Solving all the world’s problems,” (and seriously there are a few!) parting ways typically takes a minimum of an hour. Or 2. Possibly canceling later plans. It was simply a lovely day. As we eventually made our way back to our cars, she backed her car in so we could chat, “just a little while longer” but let the dogs have some A/C, water and a comfy rest. And then a friend joined us.

You cannot see it in these photos, but there is a WASP-BEE-Murder Hornet flitting between our cars. We would roll our windows down, chat for a bit, and then scramble to roll the window back up as it flew back by. Side note: this is the one time that it does not pay to have power windows. No matter how hard you press that button, the window will only go up at the same slow speed. Manual windows – you could crank that puppy as fast as your arm would go and get that window up quick!

By the 14th time of windows up-down-up-down-up-down trying to avoid said murder hornet, we were laughing hysterically, simultaneously speaking on our phones. Second side note: Did you also know there is a delay when you use a cell in close proximity to the person to whom you are speaking?! We discovered that and played “foreign film montage”!

Silly from the fresh air, the exercise and/or the ridiculous wasp, as well as an overdue visit amidst a global pandemic, we did eventually bid farewell (3 hours later, whoops!). It was just what the mental health doctor ordered!

Deep Images….with Jack Handy

You know that SNL sketch where the verbiage of a “deep thought” with the Jack Handy voice over lays out a bunch of nonsense? That plays out in my brain in real life whenever I am on a solo bike ride or run or walk with the dogs. I think my best deep thoughts while in my head doing physical activity – a sort of moving mediation. More often than not much of it is gibberish and/or forgotten once off the trail.

In an effort to recapture some of the thoughts, I brought my phone along and captured some images. I took about a bazillion photos and since this isn’t an amateur photography blog nor a living room where people are subjected to torturous hours of viewing Aunt Linda’s vacation slides, I will spare you all of them. Still, there are a lot of photos, so you are forewarned. Just know that I did make an effort to not include them all to bore you endlessly. **(Although, if you are reading this within a week or two of it being published, you have nothing better to do because you are quarantined with your family and need an escape. You. are. welcome.)

To change up our routine, I walked with Hippo solo today while the hubby took care of the littles. If you are new the blog – we have three dogs. (Correction: we have two dogs and a Hippo (the middle photo) and if you knew him you’d understand.)

The Hippo is a giant goober. I love him to pieces. Today was the first time he’d walked a long walk with me since his 2 knee replacement surgeries over a year ago. (He’s now Titanium Hippo!) We took it nice and slow and sniffed all the things and ate lots of clumps of freshly mown grass despite the fact that I told him not to. He pretended not to hear me.

“What? Did you say something? I was busy sniffing.” Uh. huh.

Walking or running around this area one must always be on the lookout for deer (there are tons!) or eagles (they fly all around and low!) and even whales have been spotted in our little inlet (haven’t seen them myself but I keep trying)! We didn’t see any eagles, but did see tons of seagulls and this guy:

He flew right over our heads and it was AMAZING. After looking it up (because president of the Audubon society I am not) I learned that he is a Great Blue Heron. Super common apparently. What is not common is to be ready with the camera at the same time as the launch of a flyover. Nature and wild life are amazing and I always come away grateful for the universe winks.

We saw (and smelled) loads of evidence of spring. The colors were vibrant and gorgeous and the cloudy day made for nice photography. I love seeing little flowers and daffodils and the Indian paintbrush native to this area bloom. Spring is always the season of hope, and this year the need for it is amplified.

Bent, gnarled and scarred, but not broken

Maylor Point trail is stunning and a quick escape from my house while ensuring social distancing. From my doorstep, down the trail and back was 4.5 miles of nature and solitude for which my heart and head were in desperate need.

Dog photography is not for the faint of heart. I don’t carry treats much (mostly because I forget) so I have to be quick when the shot presents itself! Luckily today Hippo was (mostly) cooperative. Except for that one selfie, which made me giggle because SQUIRREL.

I love playing with filters, color, and black and white photography. Partly because of the COVID19 quarantine, and due to the weather, it is eerily quiet. The old buildings, rundown tennis court, and not-oft used recreation areas on the military base make for great apocolyptic-esque subjects.

What an accurate photo for our current slower pace of life. We actually have SO. MUCH. TIME. Quarantine or not, it’s the same 24 hours each day. What we do with those hours makes all the difference.

There is a large number of deer that roam this little peninsula. The come out like clockwork and while not tame, are very used to people. They nibble and watch us take photos of them, probably wondering why we are so odd. Hippo still thinks they smell weird and would love to investigate further, but they are bigger than him so he is secretly glad I make him stay on leash.

For the folks who have never been to the Puget Sound, this would constitute a “beach”, albeit somewhat loosely defined. The white things stuck all over the rock on the left are barnacles. Barnacles are little arthropods (related to crustaceans) and they are abundant here! They also hurt bare feet so no kicking off the flip flops. (Not that you’d want to wear flips because brrr cold.) The thing you won’t see in abundance here is sand. Rocks are however everywhere and really, aren’t they just larger grains of sand? Technically I guess we can let it be called a beach even though you won’t find many people in bathing suits rushing to take a dip.

The Lord replied, “The years when you have seen only one set of footprints, my child, is when I carried you.”
Author disputed, but credited to Mary Stevenson 1939

There is no question that a dog can carry us through hard times. It is often said that it’s no coincidence that dog is God spelled backward. While I don’t worship my dogs, they are exquisite examples of unconditional love and acceptance, patience, and understanding. This is my visual take on the poem, Footprints in the Sand. (You can read it in its entirely here: https://wallpapersafari.com/footprints-poem-wallpaper/).

This concludes the tour of random deep (and not so) thoughts. Thank you for coming. Please gather your belongings and watch your step as you exit.

And don’t forget to wash your hands. ❤️

New Year, New Me! (and all the other things we tell ourselves)

Christmas got put away today, all the boxes loaded up and back to their spot in the garage for another year. It’s feeling fresh and clean in our space. The house is 99% uncpacked and is now home. The kids will be back to school and we’ll be in our full swing regular routine again. I love this refreshed feeling. Celebrations celebrated, visiting with family, meals prepared and savored….and now it’s quiet.

I admit it. I do love a new year. There is something about a fresh page turned in a journal, a new month, Monday, or another trip around the sun. I haven’t set resolutions for many years, but usually do a goal or two, and break it down into bite sized chunks so I don’t quit by January 5th.

I had two goals for 2019; read 30 books and walk/run 350 miles.

Hard to fathom 1000 miles on legs! Apparently I was on fire in 2016

I did not hit the goal I set for mileage on legs (walking or running) mostly because I would remember to wear my Garmin about 10 minutes after I left the house without it. (Insert eye roll here). I’m not disappointed though. I know I hit at least 300 and with all the walking with dogs we did over the last year – I’m happy with that. Not the ninja mode of years past, but did get in some biking and running in there while enjoying the California sunshine.

The reading goal I set was for 30 books. I have set reading goals in the past and barely got through half of what I’d set out to read or flat out didn’t record what I did read. I have an e-reader, love physical books and even Audible is fun once in a while.

This quote has stuck with me for a while and helps keep me motivated to read and continue to learn!

Other goals I’ve set in the past include not drinking, (but that’s more of an every day thing), weightloss goals, and arbitrary crap like “be a better person” with no plan of concretely putting it into action. I need concrete! Flippant wishes never get done. (The only area this doesn’t apply is cooking – I love not following recipes and flying by the seat of my pants in the kitchen!)

For this year, the mileage is set at 350, because it seems like a good do-able number, but enough to keep me foucused and off the couch. 40 books is the goal for reading. One more than I read last year – again, do-able but a challenge if I don’t stay on it. I’m also attending an online 12-step Recovery course. That’s sure to be scary and fun and all the other uncomfortable stuff. Lastly, I have a weightloss goal. Do-able, challenging, and necessary. The last 2 years were focused on health from the inside out; gettting a handle on depression/anxiety and getting my A1C numbers down out of the pre/diabetic ranges and lowering cholesterol. (Not to mention recuperating a dog post knee surgery.) Now it’s time to get back to a healthy weight again.

Here’s to 2020’s goals!

What are your plans and goals for the upcoming year? Any new things on the horizon?

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