Ouch!

Because I'm an overachiever, we hit three parks yesterday: the Magic Kingdom, Disney's Hollywood Studios, and Epcot. I've lived in Central Florida most of my life, and when we were children my brother and I would study the map of the Magic Kingdom to plot out our attack on the park. We went about once a year, from what I can remember, and over the course of those years we got to know which rides required us to race to them upon park opening, which we could wander to at a more leisurely pace, and in what order we would accomplish these things.

So with that in mind, Choreboy and I had finished off all the "vital" rides at the Magic Kingdom by 11:00, those rides being defined as Pirates of the Caribbean, Thunder Mountain Railroad, the Haunted Mansion, the Carousel of Progress, Buzz Lightyear (what??), the Swiss Family Robinson treehouse, and the Jungle Cruise. We then ate brunch, and grabbed a shuttle bus over to Disney's Hollywood Studios. It's a newer park, and although I've visited it multiple times I don't have the knowledge of it I have of Magic Kingdom, plus it's been about 15 years or thereabouts since I've been there. In that time they added the Tower of Terror -- I think it was under construction the last time I was there -- and also the Rock 'n' Roller Coaster. I could have lived without the Tower of Terror. Freefall is all well and good, but this has freefall-stop-more freefall-stop-go back up-freefall-stop... GACK! My brain hurt after that. But the Rock'n'Roller coaster, well... rocked. Choreboy and I had done the dorktastic thing and both wore our NaNoWriMo 2009 t-shirts, and ran into a lady in line for the coaster who is also attempting NaNo this year. We were also scolded by a few Disney employees for not being at home pounding out wordcount. Heh.

We pretty much raced through Epcot, hitting just a couple of high points (Living With the Land, which had been closed on our official honeymoon, and Mission: Space), and then headed back to the Magic Kingdom so I could buy my "The Beatings Will Continue Until Morale Improves" t-shirt that I'd decided was a must-have at Pirates. Why didn't I buy it earlier, you ask? Especially since it was clearly a "must have" item? Because it was 9:20 in the morning, and I had it in my head I was NOT going to tote that thing all around the parks all day. See, genius-level thinking at work.

I should have bought it earlier. Because we had to almost literally fight our way back to Pirates at about 8:00 that night, bought the shirt, then wrestled our way out of the park only to be stuck in a ginormous herd of departing folks bound for the Ticket and Transportation Center as we were. It was somewhere in here between leaving Epcot and trying to get out of the Magic Kingdom and get home already that my right hip finally gave out. I have a bit of sciatica and bursitis in that side, and the sciatica kicked in fitfully at first, but by the time we were trying to get to the parking lot I was walking ridiculously.

It didn't help that we lost the car, which had us wandering around the parking lot for probably an hour after we left the Ticket and Transportation Center. You'd think one of us would have been intelligent enough to mark where we parked, wouldn't you? You'd be WRONG. We got there so early the trams weren't running, and all we were concentrating on was the mad dash to the Magic Kingdom, not petty little details like, say, how we're going to get the hell out.

Whoops.

All that said, it was an awesome day. I'd better be well-rested to crank out the 5,000 words I want to have pumped out before I hit the office tomorrow. Eh, we'll see.

Now if I could just lift my right leg more than six inches off the ground...

NaNoWriMo, Week 2

The Very Bad Novel is coming along. I'm right at 20,000 words into it, just slightly ahead of where I should be to finish this sucker on November 30th.

The plan today is to work on it more, because on Saturday Choreboy and I are heading to Disney to be silly newlyweds again. The timing isn't great, but the tickets we'll be using expire in December, so, goshdarnit, have to go play all day.

Yes, it's a hellish life I lead.

Here's the latest snippet from my NaNovel:

Chapter 11
Daniel stretched, and levered his body up into a sitting position from the cushions on the back of Ellie’s couch. He looked over toward the kitchen and watched Teddy pogoing at the gate.

What is it, small creature?

Potty potty potty!!

I don’t know why you call it potty – you hardly use the toilet, the large cat grumbled. I could use the toilet if I wished. I merely prefer the box.

Teddy ignored Daniel, as was his usual practice, and continued to bounce up and down.

Now now now!!

Yes, yes, fine. Very well. Let’s go outside and go “potty”. He stalked to the gate, leaped over, and held open the pet door for the tiny dog.

Teddy streaked outside so quickly he practically didn’t touch the porch, let alone the steps. By the time Daniel made it onto the porch for his supervision duties, the one pound mutt had finished the first order of business and was deep into location research for the second.

Well, it’s probably almost time for my afternoon nap, thought the large cat. Once he’s finished with his befouling of the grass I’ll get to work on that.

Is all you do sleep? came an unexpected query. Daniel lifted and swiveled his head to see Bob approaching from the Ostrofsky’s side of the property.

Unlike some felines, sniffed Daniel, I have embraced my true calling, which is to be highly decorative and primarily inert.

Except when you’re talking, the smaller feline pointed out.

There is that, admitted Daniel.

Emily wandered up onto the porch as well. She sniffed the air. Food? she wondered.

Mine, informed Daniel. Then, in a rare fit of generosity he shared, but Ellie keeps an extra bowl on the back porch for occasions such as this.

Thank you, responded Emily. Hungry.

And she hopped through the pet door and made her way to the back porch and food.

Words aren’t her strength, are they?

She is a cat of few words, and large appetites, agreed Bob.

It is pure crap, but it's my crap. It'll do.

NaNoWriMo 2009

Yep, I'm giving it a whirl again. For those who are unfamiliar, NaNoWriMo is short for National Novel Writing Month -- more information here. Here's the first bit:

Chapter 1

“AaaaaAAACHOO!!!”

“Dammit! EVERY year the SAME freaking thing!!”

Ellie pushed herself out of her desk chair with her left hand as her right was clutched to her nose. And yes, every fall, generally every November, she got the Mother of All Headcolds. It would have been annoying enough on its own, but the cold also generally tended to interrupt whatever her Self Improvement Project of the Year happened to be. One year she tried training for a marathon – got the flu. Another year it was NaNoWriMo – bronchitis. Ad perpetuum, ad nauseum.

As she dug through the hall closet looking for her tissue box, Ellie muttered, “I’d like to thank you, Mom and Dad, for blessing me with these abnormally active sinuses.” She finally spotted a box at the rear of the closet and, reaching for it, continued, ”It gives me such peace of mind to know that I will never have to use a decongestant, like, EVER, because ALL I DO IS FREAKING SNEEZE!”

And with that, she ripped open the box and wiped off her nose.

“Good grief.”

With a sigh of resignation, she figured the coffee was ready and headed into the kitchen. Immediately, Ellie was attacked by a small, brownish blur.

Me! Me! Me! Mommy mommy mommy pet me me me me me me!!

With a laugh, she picked up the tiny dog and cuddled him to her chest. “You missed Mommy, didn’t you? Well if you could learn that the carpet is not grass you’d have the run of the house sweetie. Want another chewie?”

Chewie chewie chewie mine mine mine please please please!!

Ellie chuckled and tossed Teddy a small, rawhide chew stick. “There you go sweetie.” He grabbed it in his mouth, glared at the incoming feline with great suspicion, and hurtled to his bed where he curled up and began contentedly to simultaneously chew and growl.

Good lord you ridiculous creature, I wouldn’t have that slimy bit of pigskin if you paid me. Daniel stuck his pristine pink nose into the air and swiveled his attention to Ellie. Really, Madam, was he truly necessary? And might I trouble you to freshen my water? It’s been nearly six hours…

Clearly I was without much inspiration, so I siphoned off my own life rather shamelessly. Teddy and Daniel are lifted straight from my house, and the cold my main character has?

Yep, sneezing like nobody's business here. Have been since Thursday/ Friday. And now I have a delightful rash all over my trunk and down my arms which is a weird little viral reaction I've gotten since I was 15.

Fortunately, though, NaNoWriMo isn't as affected by upper-respiratory yuck as C25K. That's got to wait another week. Again. Ugh.

This is The Title

Clearly, creativity-wise? I got nothing.

So the Tampa Bay Buccaneers are 0-7. I am a lifelong Bucs fan by the sheer virtue of living within the team's geographical influence. I don't so much remember the first season (1976) and the 0-14 record, as I remember the over-the-top news coverage when they finally won one, against the Saints (still the 'aints!!) back in 1977. It was insane, and I know this simply because I remember it. I was seven then, y'all, and my interest in football was -- if possible -- even less than it is now. That said, I have to admit that it's refreshing to watch a team go back to its roots.

Yeah, some rabid fan's gonna get me for that.

Anyway, a big part of why my creativity is sapped is because I'm once again riding the hormonal tidal wave and that doesn't gel with my current attempts to be cheerful, dammit. And that's combined with the six pound weight gain from the flu which went up another two pounds this morning.

HOW in the hell did I gain nearly NINE POUNDS in two weeks? Please tell me this. I just don't see how it's possible.

So then the drama queen in me comes out and I want to whine about how my body is betraying me what with the H1N1 nonsense, still feeling like crap, and this mysterious metabolic garbage whereby the mere glance at a Double-Quarter-Pounder-With-Cheese is enough to pile on the pounds.

Then I feel like crap about that, because I have friends and other folks I know whose bodies actually have betrayed them, giving them chronic or terminal illnesses that impact their quality of life to a huge degree, and yet they keep going, and I'm sitting here whimpering over some stupid weight gain that I know darned good and well is partially due to water retention? And another portion of it is due to the brownies I ate that I should have just taped to my ass instead?

ARRRRGHHH!!!

So there you have it. That's my lovely mindset at the moment. Damned scale hates me, stupid treadmill isn't my friend, and I'm a bit peevish into the mix.

The only bright spot is the Bucs are apparently going to resurrect their "creamsicle" uniforms next week or sometime later this season. The idiots. You've just gotta laugh.

Minimal Update

I'm still improving from the swine flu thingie. I didn't manage to get in any exercise last week, and also got on the scale to see that Choreboy's attempts to keep me fed and alive during my illness netted me a 6 pound weight gain.

Gotta hand it to the man -- he is an overachiever for sure.

My mother's dog, Dora, is with us for another week. She still hates cats. She's still barking.

I've invested in a good set of ear plugs.

The Gum Zombie's choir sang in church this morning for all three services. He did fine through the first two, but by the third he was pretty much done and kept squatting down on the risers and in general acting six until they actually started singing. Then he got his focus back.

The Elder continues his attempts to hijack my MP3 player. He has decided that he's a fan of Styx's Mr. Roboto. It's only a matter of time before REO Speedwagon grabs him too.

Hoping to restart C25K this week, or hop in on week 2 or 3. I'm feeling better than I did last week at this time, so that's a huge plus.

Time to appreciate the rest of this weekend -- have a good one, folks!

I Won!!!!

Remember that contest Jenn over at Watch My Butt Shrink was having??

I won!!!

The muffin tops are mine all mine... muahahahaha...

Thanks, Jenn!

Begone, Swine!

Yeah, yeah, I know it's properly H1N1, but it's more fun to talk about swine flu.

Anyway, we all appear to be recovering well. The Gum Zombie and I were finally fever-free on Friday which means he's cleared for school on Monday, and I can head back to work without worrying about infecting the entire office. I still have a bit of a headache, but it's less than it was and the body aches are gone.

We also got well just in time for my mother's dog to come stay with us for two weeks while my parents go on vacation. Dora is a fourteen-year-old Chihuahua. Teddy worships her. The Elder offspring babies her. The Gum Zombie tries to make nice with her but she prefers to gnaw his hand. And God knows I love her, but she nips my younger son and my husband (she didn't know them well when she was younger; ergo, they're The Enemy), and she hasn't stopped barking for more than 30 seconds since we got here.

It's been over an hour now. I think my headache's making a full-force return.

Did I mention Dora hates cats?

Yeah. They're part of what makes her bark. Doing the math from the sidebar listing, I've got three of 'em. Ouch.

So. Two long weeks down, two more to go. On the plus side, I get to get back on my treadmill tomorrow, and I don't think I'll be able to hear her bark over the sound of the motor. I think I'll try Week 3 of C25K again, since I've had to take an entire week off (and as a side note, due to Choreboy trying to make sure I ate well while I was sick, I am almost certainly the only person who has gained weight while having the flu). I just got an MP3 player and I'm interested to see if having songs to mark off the running sections will help at all.

Well, that is if I manage to even get my hands on the player. The kids have hijacked it to the point where I'm thinking I'm going to need to erase my copy of London Underground from the lineup lest they come across it and ask me just what a few pertinent words mean.

Yipes.

Normal

Normal is...

getting up in the morning
dropping off the boys at school
going to work

eating lunch

leaving work
picking up the boys
arriving home

And never ever wondering what I'll walk into when I open that door.

Sound boring?

Maybe.

But to me, it's heaven.

Note: yes, odd as things can be,"normal" actually sums up my life. And I love it.

I Want These Muffin Tops, Dangit

And I'm not talking about what fluffs over the top of my jeans waistband either.

Jenn, over at Watch My Butt Shrink, is giving away an entire Vitalicious Super Sampler. I have been in minor lust with Vitalicious muffin tops since I first read about them at the HungryGirl website, but they don't carry them in my stores and I'm way too slackerly to order them off the website (yet). So since one way to enter for the giveaway is to blog about it, here I am, up from my sickbed, blogging about it.

Food is a major motivator. What can I say?

Don't let this encourage you to, like, go there and enter or anything. The less competition I have, the better.

Jenn's gonna get me for that.

Three Down

So when your coworkers make the sign of the cross behind you as you're staggering out the door to your car... that's a bad thing, right?

I went in this morning thinking I'd be okay; I just felt crummy because of allergies, PMS, and a relatively sleepless night.

Uh-huh. Riiiiight.

I really didn't want the children's Swine Flu Powers -- they didn't have to share.

--------------------

Angel and Jenn, thanks for the kind words. The Gum Zombie seems to be following in his elder brother's footsteps with this illness and that's a good thing. This H1N1 is so frustrating because on the one hand (like Jenn said) they hype this SO much, but on the other hand you read that the majority of the cases are really mild; it's just in those few instances of folks with underlying conditions that we hear about.

And THEN you hear from your mother that one of her friends was diagnosed with H1N1 and her doctor's office told her that she must have a super mild case of it because she walked in under her own steam, and most folks were in so much pain that they weren't able to walk.

I give up. I'll never understand this thing.

--------------------

So anyway, I'm down for the count.

The Elder is back at school.

The Gum Zombie's still running a fever but downed two corndogs for lunch.

Choreboy alone remains standing.

Stay tuned for the next installment of "As the Swine Turns."

Another One Bites the Dust

Gum Zombie's down for the count with 101.5 degree fever.

I'm not sure I'm going to even take him in to the pediatrician to have H1N1 verified. What's the point of exposing all the other sick kids at the doctor's office to him when I'm 99.9% sure I know what it is? And calling the office first wouldn't help because they'll (correctly) state that it is of course my choice.

And in their voice I'll hear, "Oh good grief, I have to tell her this? She's been a mother for how long?" So the mom in me is slightly panicky, but the human who's been at this awhile is trying to just take it in stride.

Today is the Elder's last day home sick, so the plan is I'll restock on Motrin, make sure I've got a ton of juice for both of them, push fluids, and figure out how in the world I'm going to tell the office.

---------------------

And of course, the news is showing a segment right now on the H1N1 pandemic saying it's "hitting young children especially hard." It seems that with the standard flu, 80% of the deaths are in those over 65. But with H1N1, 80% of the fatalities are in those below 65.

The Gum Zombie is six.

And right now they're showing the kids who are in the ICU, one of whom has been in a coma for a month.

Here's hoping his case is as mild as the Elder's. And yes, I'm knocking every piece of wood within reach.

---------------------

Angel, I'll be over to check those blog awards in a few -- I was heading your way, then I had to wake up GZ for school (I thought), and well... you now know the rest of the story. Best laid plans and all that, LOL.

I mentioned this was going to be a long two weeks. It appears I might have been correct.

I'm Only Brain-Dead

The rest of me is just pining for the fjords.

I can spell Judy Blume's name. I really can. But I misspelled it not once but twice on the post below before finally typing the blasted thing in correctly.

First I got the vowel right: Blue

Then I got the pronunciation correct: Bloom

FINALLY I saw what I'd typed, smacked myself in the head, and typed in "Blume."

Remember, I majored in English, people. And taught it. Plus I've only read nearly everything the woman's written, including her adult novels.

Good grief.

------------------

As to the "pining for the fjords" comment, I just finished off Week 3 Day 2 of the Couch-to-5K program. If you need a refresher on just what this involves, please see my Procrastination 101 post and scroll down to the cut jpeg from my Excel spreadsheet.

Yeah, I'm on that week.

I upped my speed from W3D1, though, and did the running portions at 4.8 MPH rather than the 4.5 I had done. And the three-minute bursts? I think I feel about them pretty much like I did the ninety-second bursts at this time last week; i.e. much hate, but I definitely know I can do it.

I'm just going to whine about it.

Lots.

------------------

Okay, seriously I'm tickled that I managed it today, because with the Elder having H1N1 (he's doing well, by the way) and me being naturally a major hypochondriac, I've been figuring I'm staring some sort of upper-respiratory infection in the face. But when I wasn't showing sure signs of becoming an invalid after a couple of days I figured, "What the heck, I'll do my run. If I can't finish it, I'm sick. If I can, I'm still healthy as a horse."

So here I am.

Neigh.

Are You There God?

If any of you were fans of Judy Blume's books growing up, there's a great interview with her over at Slate's XX entitled "I Was Margaret."

Enjoy.

Edited because I *can* spell her last name. I swear it.

Release the Pigs!!!

Yep, H1N1 has nuked us fair and square. The Elder Offspring is the first to fall victim, and his viral status was verified yesterday via nasal swab at his pediatrician's office.

I thought it was just a bad cold. Oops.

On the plus side, he appears to have a rather mild variant of it. So mild that, last night, he jumped in front of the Gum Zombie and shouted "Swine Flu Powers -- ACTIVATE!!"

The Gum Zombie, no stranger to drama himself, hollered back, "I have the hand sanitizer and I'm not afraid to use it!"

I didn't laugh. I wanted to. I choked. I left the room even. But I did not laugh.

Much. Heh.

Once I recovered myself, I did make the boy sit down. He's still looking tired in the eyes in spite of his antics. But it could be just so much worse, so I'm grateful he's on the less severe end of the spectrum.

Here's hoping the Gum Zombie's addiction to hand sanitizer sees him through.

What sucks about this for me is that I'm so darned suggestible I keep nearly giving myself H1N1. It's insane. A slight tickle in my throat? Swine flu! An allergic sneeze? Swine flu! Trouble running on the treadmill? Must be an incipient H1N1 infection!!

I've now banned myself from the CDC website. This could be a long couple of weeks.

The Toad and the Blob

Mah bed.

You cannot haz it.

----------------------------------------

In actuality, it's Teddy's bed, but Bob translates "Teddy's bed" as "Bob's bed" -- clearly an easy mistake to make -- and since he's 1/3 again the size of the Toad in spite of being a year younger, his word tends to rule except in such rare moments of generosity as this.

----------------------------------------

In other news, I did Week 3 Day 1 of Couch-to-5K today. Seriously y'all, I must be crazy. I thought Week 2 was bad -- what drugs was I on?

I actually had to lower my speed to 4.5 MPH to make it through this round, but I managed it. Now I only have to repeat twice before all hell (also known as Week 4) breaks loose.

The scale actually cooperated though. I weighed myself around 1:00 p.m. today -- yes, after breakfast, snack, and lunch, AND with some PMSsy bloat to boot -- and the 150 lb. weight was too heavy. I'm seriously psyched, because this is the first time I've seen the 140's since I quit smoking back in March.

Granted, I weigh about 149.999999999999999999999999 because I couldn't get a good weight with the 100 lb. weight and the sliding doohickie either, but still... I'll take it.

Responses and Updates and Bears, Oh My!!

Part of me wishes I didn't feel so duty-bound to title these blog posts, because that way y'all wouldn't be subjected to titles like the above.

Ouch.

-----------------------------

Regarding my commenting post, thank you everyone for responding and patting my little writerly-ego-laden head. You know, the next morning after I'd posted that I was dragging my feet out of my room to the coffee maker thinking, "Good grief, Amanda, talk about a self-serving, whining post! Did you really have to go there? REALLY???"

So... hehehe... thanks y'all :)

And in the interest of fairness, Choreboy does always have something to say about a post although he may not, in fact, post it. Plus the timeframe over which I was kvetching was when he had some closes at work, which puts him home sometime between 3 and 4 a.m. I guess it's reasonable, perhaps, that his focus at that time is more sleeping than rattling on on my blog (although to be fair, he's capable of rattling on regardless of the circumstances -- he's gonna get me for that!).

-----------------------------

In other news, I had a conference with the Gum Zombie's teacher on Thursday, and I'm feeling a bit better about the situation. She agreed that there were more negatives than should be in the children's agendas, likely because she has an intern and there are two sets of eyes watching the little buggers, so they need to adjust that. But GZ isn't a problem child by a long shot, and is near the top of the class academically. Reflecting that, he does fine at his desk -- it's just when they're on the carpet, in line, or walking somewhere that he kind of... zones out. As my father put it, "So his herd instinct needs to be tuned, eh?"

Yep, that's pretty much it. And I'd say the cause is an even split between his age and him just being the Gum Zombie. So I figure there will be a great deal improvement and "fine tuning" over the course of this year.

That said, expecting children to sit on the carpet still like little statues keeping their hands in their laps -- not even propping them up on the ground -- for the entire floor time? It just seems a bit too controlling to me. And narrow. And ridiculous, really. GZ isn't touching anyone, he isn't bothering anyone, it's just that his hands aren't in his lap. So yeah, I think it's idiotic that it's a bone of contention. If they're touching others it makes sense to call them on it, but I just don't think it's sensible to waste one's energy on children who are otherwise behaving.

Then again, I've always exhibited a great deal of care in picking the hills on which I'm willing to die. Perhaps his teacher has more resources than I and can pick an infinite number of battles. This just isn't one I'd choose to fight. Honestly, I think it's stupid.

Oh well, not my classroom. And I'll back the teacher up 100% in telling my children they need to follow directions. And that's the last I'll speak on this topic.

-----------------------------

To address more comments:
Heidi, yes, you are TOTALLY lazy waiting to see if I survive Couch-to-5K before you try it. You think *I* wanna get on that stupid treadmill? You think I ENJOY feeling like I'm suffocating the last two intervals of Week 2? I swear I hate that shit.

And misery loves company.

So there. :P

(seriously, start it up and maybe we can find a 5K around this crazy town -- hey, two couch potatoes train for a 5K! see, an article series in the making... heh)

AD, LOL! Dude, I'm just tickled pink when you comment over here. I know you've got a ton of stuff you read, so it's all good. And Choreboy was duely chastened by your comment ;)

Angel, tell JM to pick up that slack! Just because you two have been married since before God was born doesn't give him clearance to avoid the bloggage. Seriously. I thought that boy was brighter than that! I'll sic the Gum Zombie and Elder Offspring on him at judo if he doesn't behave -- and my bet is JQ would watch and giggle if she knew why. Hee.

Jess, you're right of course, both on the awesomeness of my husband as well as the commenting thing. Ultimately I do do this for me, and I know I'd be keeping some sort of journal somewhere even if I never had comments. That said, part of the blogging thing for me is about the community, I'll freely admit. So yeah, it's a little bit of a bummer if there aren't any comments, but my biggest fear is boring you all to tears! And it doesn't help that this blog is such a hodge-podge of topics that folks don't know if it's a mommy blog, a patient blog, a weight loss blog, an exercise blog... GACK!!

And AA, did you clap three times for the blog fairies?? Because if you don't, I think Tinkerbell develops PMS. From what I hear, that could get ugly. And I've got to get over to your blog, woman! Thanks for the URL :)

-----------------------------

Okay, that's it for today. The Elder Offspring is running a bit of a fever, I have a Second Life gig later this afternoon, and my college roommate is in town from Maine with her husband and 2.5 sons (the .5 is still in utero), so we're supposed to get together at a park tomorrow which the Elder's illness may preclude. Time to go push fluids and all that happy jazz. Have a great weekend, y'all!

Commenting

Like most bloggers, I live for comments.

Please, for the sake of my marriage, if you read this blog and get even the slightest enjoyment out of it, comment. Because poor Choreboy is currently being nagged mercilessly about just WHY he hasn't commented today.

Or on Monday's entry. Which I'll grant you was a rant, but still.

Harumph.

Procrastination 101

Tonight I'm supposed to do Week 2, Day 2 of the Couch-to-5K program. And I'll do it. For sure.

I just don't wanna.

I've been dreading this run today. And one thing I do extremely well (along with sit at the computer) is procrastinate.

I see my mother daily, so what did I do just now? I talked with her on the phone. For forty-five minutes.

I've been catching up on everyone else's blogs, even though hardly anyone has any updates.

And I've been reading message board posts about C25K stuff. Because reading about it? Beats DOING it at the moment.

Sigh.

Okay, posting this, then I'm going to hit the treadmill. After I make the Gum Zombie's Easy Mac. And I need to scoop the litter boxes. And the toilets need scrubbing...

Update:
After some intense Facebooking and Twittering (I managed to procrastinate myself out of cleaning the bathrooms), I got on the treadmill and did W2D2. I don't think I saw any improvement over W2D1 with the exception that I knew I could make it all six intervals this time. Okay, that's a plus. But this is what's staring me in the face next week:


Do you SEE that? I mean, the first interval is fine. 90 seconds. I've got that. But Interval 2 is THREE MINUTES STRAIGHT. And so is Interval 4.

I am clearly insane. Now I have to post this sucker and start on my weights.

Yep, I've lost it.

Monday's Title Is...

Nonexistent. I seriously can't come up with one, so this is going to have to work.

I managed to gasp my way through Week 2, Day 1 of this Couch to 5K thing yesterday. Oh. My. God. There are only six intervals this week (as opposed to eight per day during Week 1), but that extra 30 seconds on each of them is a bear.

That said, I was pretty psyched that I made it. I'm also pretty psyched that I don't have to do it again until tomorrow because I managed to totally brutalize my hamstrings on Saturday's workout and they have yet to forgive me.

----------------------------------

In other news, I'm currently at a loss with the Gum Zombie's first grade teacher. Now let me state clearly that HE seems fine with her. This is the same woman who had the Elder offspring for first grade, and although I wasn't her biggest fan that boy still goes by to see her even though he's in fifth grade.

So clearly, she is doing something right.

That said, I'm pretty frustrated at the moment. In all fairness, the Gum Zombie is historically one of those students who pretty much marches to the beat of his own drummer, so that can certainly cause an issue or twelve in a larger group setting. His Kindergarten teacher and I worked with him to help him focus a bit more sharply, and I know that in first grade the boundaries of acceptable classroom and group behaviour are more firmly defined.

I am a realistic parent. I think my sons are awesome, absolutely. I am also perfectly aware that both of the little darlings have the finely-honed ability to be obnoxious toads.

All that said, though, it feels like the child is doing nothing right. EVERY day (and I mean every single day, bar one) I get a detailed list from her of everything he's done wrong, and NEVER anything he's doing right. She did this with the Elder offspring as well, and I was equally frustrated. I'd forgotten that in the four years between the two of them.

What kills me is that at Open House she said that after a somewhat rocky first week he was doing very well. Not just "well", but "very well."

You couldn't prove it by me. Because still, EVERY day in his agenda (the notebook they use to communicate between the school and home), is the litany of his many sins.

And they are legion.

So where is the "better"? I'm curious. Because either a) he's not doing better, or b) she's nitpicking that boy to death.

This leaves me with trying to figure out how to communicate my concern to her without displaying the raging bitchiness that I am here. I want to be accurate, but fair. I also know I have got to communicate with her not only out of parental responsibility, but also because when similar difficulties occurred with my elder son she tried to throw me under the bus and claim I didn't communicate with her and that, gosh darn it, it had to be a two-way street. Fortunately, I was able to show the school administrator with whom I was speaking the many emails we had exchanged (more than 75% of which I had initiated) that disproved her little falsehood.

So.... yeah, not her biggest fan. Which adds an additional problem -- I need to be sure when I'm trying to resolve these concerns that I'm not reacting out of my personal emotions, but am instead being rational and reasonable about my child.

Wish me luck. I'm gonna need it.

Still Breathing

Well, Day 2 of Week 1 of the C25K program went well.

That is, if by "well" you mean "is Amanda still breathing?" Because as a very basic person at my core, that's how I define "well."

To answer JAFG's question in the comments from Sunday's entry, Day 1 - Day 3 (the entirety of training for Week 1) is all the same: 5 minutes brisk walk to warm up followed by 1 minute running, then 90 seconds of walking; repeat as necessary for 20 minutes. And because I'm super-anal about stuff like this, here's a screen shot of the nice little grid I laid out so I wouldn't have to think about when I'm next running:


So according to my calculations it's 8 minutes running total, broken up by 7 90-second walking sessions. The end has a bit more walking on it, but cooling down is a good thing.

Having survived the first two days of Week 1, I'm not worried about Day 3. What's got me all freaked is Week 2, which has 90 seconds of running followed by 2 minutes of walking, again for 20 minutes total. Problem is, I tried running 90 seconds at a time a couple of weeks ago, and did three intervals with a 3.5 minute walking phase, and I was gasping for breath by the end of the third interval. I can't imagine doing it for six intervals. GACK!! Granted, it only totals nine minutes which isn't much more than this week; but, again, see "Voted Most Likely To Become One With the Couch".

By my parents.

Here's my Week 2 grid, just for grins:


So if you don't hear from me next week? It's because my lungs have imploded.

*Note: Choreboy is FOS about sitting on the couch. While I was walking on the treadmill tonight (just because I'm not running doesn't mean I'm not moving), he was outside. Running. Like, where people can see him and everything. GACK!!!