I am getting really sick of Blogger's little messages that I can't upload pictures. I don't like linking to pictures on other servers, but they leave me no choice.
I learned something tonight. My idea of doing upper body weights on Wednesdays is a really, really bad idea. I tend to work with weights until failure, and when I get to spin class I'm all shaky and my arms are utterly useless. I can't even hold onto the handlebars. I'm like one of those dinosaurs with the tiny teeny arms. Well, maybe it will make my legs stronger. Time will tell. Anyway, I was a good girl this week; I ran 5K yesterday, and today I ran 2 miles, upper body weights, and spin class.
Then I come home. Now, Sweet Baboo wrote about how cheap he's gotten in the area of clothing. The accomodations he's made. We, as insane triathletes, have made many accomodations as our priorities have changed. Chances are, if you're reading this, you have too. Mine has mostly been in my home.
My sister, whom I visited over the holidays, has the most beautiful home; it looks like something straight out of Ethan Allen and Southern Living. It's, first of all, SPOTLESS, with matching cherry furniture all over the house, WHITE carpeting, lots of prints tastefully decorated on the wall, and a magazine rack with several national magazines in it (all special editions devoted to Lady Di). Each room has coordinated stuff in it, and some sort of "theme." She has a formal dining room with a formal dining table and chairs, sideboard, large chandalier, and her china is on display behind glass in a china cabinet.
Very, very tasteful. And SPOTLESS.
I start to get anxious whenever I see her house, which is, thankfully, is only about every 5 or 6 years or so, and wonder if I shouldn't have that kind of house. My southern upbringing does it to me. I make mental comparisons to my decor, and then harass Sweet Baboo for reassurance that he'd hate to live in a house like that. Which he promptly does.
Me and Sweet Baboo (well, actually Sweet Baboo did the work) painted each wall downstairs a different color: green, blue, off-white, orange. We have kitchy magnets from places we've visited, my wooden chicken collection, and finishers medals all over the place. We have a few magazines scattered around, Runner's world, Triathlete, Skeptical Inquirer, VegNews and Ultrarunner. When we get around to making a quilt out of our race T-shirts, that will be tossed over the couch, otherwise known as The Big Expensive Scratching Post and Trampoline. I could no sooner have white carpeting than I could have white clothing. Which I don't own, either.
We have four cats. Most of what we own is furry and shredded and, I'm certain, would glow like a Jackson Pollock painting under blacklight.
And then there is the dining room. The floor plan that we picked when we built this house a few years ago included about a 18 x 15 space off the kitchen. Several of my neighbors chose this floor plan too, as it was featured in the model home in the subdivision in which we live. All of them, including the model home, made this space into tasteful eating areas. Tasteful southwestern eating areas, with tasteful southwestern furniture.
We got a nice table and comfy chairs, and put them in the kitchen.
I'd like you to meet our dining room:
Yes, that's a treadmill, trainer, and weighbench. In the dining room. In front of the treadmill and trainer, there's a small DVD player/TV, and a couple of fans.
It's frankly, one of the first things you see when you walk into the house.
My china, by the way, which was my mother's china, is safely packed in a box until Mini-baboo is away to college and I get around to some sort of cabinet. Actually - and this sounds terrible - I'm thinking of selling it. It doesn't match anything I am, have, or do. It's very fussy and formal Noritake.
I think could put a down-payment on a CycleOps Indoor Cycle with what I could get selling it on Ebay.
Even though I was in awful shape in 2016 I was still stubborn and foohardy...so I spent a year running down whatever fitness base I had left...
Dear Diary, It's 5 am and the wind is still. Fucking. Blowing. I'm not talking about a breeze rustling through the trees. We live...
Dear Diary, This month I learned stuff from doctors. Good stuff. Stuff I didn't know, and was surprised to learn. That doesn't...
Dear Diary, A rep from Free Country wrote me and offered to send me a swim suit if I would review it for my blog. Say it with me now: ...