A Knee and a Toe, and a Dog Named Bo

I have been absent this week, I apologize. I have been uninspired. I don't just want to blather on about useless information. That's what Facebook is for!

I have been having an inner battle with myself about going to the gym. I no longer have the excuse that my key card doesn't work, because I went by there when the dude was there and he showed me that I was using it incorrectly. Tonight I went and, since there was only me and one other lady, I took the opportunity to figure out how to use the weight machines. That was supposed to be part of my "orientation",  but dude seems to always be busy with someone else when I am there. I had a good workout tonight, going to be sore in the morning! But I'm also excited about my chance tonight (couldn't have looked stupid in front of the muscle-heads, now could I?) since my foot has been bothering me so much lately, and walking on the treadmill has become painful.

I was cursed with ugly feet. No really. I know everyone says their feet are ugly, but mine take the prize. I have bunions that have always bothered me, but now each step is excruciating. At least my left foot is. Which is problematic in many ways, as I had recently quit step aerobics because my knees hurt so badly, and I thought I'd take up the treadmill instead. It's a vicious cycle: my knees would feel better if I could lose 50+ pounds, but that's hard to do when it hurts to exercise.

I have researched bunionectomies (yes, that's a real procedure) and I will next research good surgeons. Something has to give. I'm not wearing shoes right now, and my big toe is throbbing. Weird.

Last weekend I spent quite a bit of time with John Deere. His mother invited me to their house for Sunday dinner, and that went well. So well that I stayed until after supper! John's mother asked me a lot of questions, friendly questioning, not an interrogation by any means. She mentioned they used to have a dog named Bo, which was the name of The Ex's dog. Add that to the eerily increasing list of similarities. And the fact that John knows The Ex. Remembers him from college. John said he didn't think any less of me.

Monday John and I ventured to a larger town to do some muzzle loader shopping. He did. I looked at just about everything else in the store. But there was Olive Garden and Stone Cold Creamery, so the day wasn't a total waste :) I was glad to spend that particular day with John, as 1/2/12 was one of the dates The Ex and I had picked as a potential wedding date.

This week I need to fill out loan papers, as I'm going to try to refinance my home loan, apply to grad school, and continue to resist temptation at work. No vending machine purchases for me last week! (Well, 1 Diet soda, but definitely no candy bars!) Now if people would please stop making delicious fudge and candy and bringing it to work. Evil, evil people.

To Infiniti and Beyond

This afternoon I felt like the biggest hypocrite on the planet. I led a group on worry and anxiety, relating how to plan worry time, postpone worry, and fix the problems that you can , thus alleviating much unnecessary worry. And yet although these sound like good ideas, I can personally guarantee you I could perfectly perform each step and still worry.

I asked the clients what they worry about. Money. The Future. If Medicaid will be around to pay for meds. What if I lose my home. What if my power of attorney dies before me. All great topics for worry. I encouraged them to not worry about the past, since you can't do anything about it anyway, and plan for the future, solving what problems you can, and researching and planning for those you can't.

What do I worry about? All of those things, plus stuff like: what if I fall and break my leg while I'm alone in the house and my doors are locked? What if I I live to be 112 and out-live all my family and friends? What if I lose my hearing and never get to listen to music again? What if I gain so much weight they have to cut a hole in my house to folk-lift me out?

A ha! To this problem, I have found another solution, and a whole passel of more worries!

I had been doing step aerobics two days per week, but my knees just can't stand it anymore. So, tonight I did it. I made the plunge. I joined another gym. And not the "beefcake" gym. No, the snobby, snooty, all the ladies there are pencil thin and wear designer work-out gear. Oh yeah, Huffy's about to invade their territory!

So now my worries consist of overwhelming feelings of inferiority, will I have to wait on a treadmill, and hoping no one is watching my fat jiggle as I walk. (Because we ALL know that is SO entertaining!)

But if nothing else, maybe I'll get back into the swing of exercising, possibly lose a few, and have a few stories to blog about. Yes, it's for you, my dear reader, that I am doing this.

And so my jeans don't constrict my breathing anymore.

See ya on the treadmill!

Should I walk backwards?

Twice in the past week I have been greeted from behind. Maybe it's because of my behind.

Let me explain...

For the past month a coworker and I have been walking twice per week, after work, at a local park. It's a nicely paved sidewalk, approximately 1.1 miles in length around the entire park. This park is along a well traveled street in my town, so passersby can see you.

Last week while walking I heard a honk and noticed an arm waving as a car passed by. I recognized the driver as a church member, and remarked to the coworker that I thought it strange the person knew me from behind. And today I had a fellow Sunday School member, also walking, approach from behind and say "Is that [Huffalina]?" Again, I thought it strange the back of my head is so recognizable.

Finally it occurred to me that most of the church sees my backside more than my front. As choir director, I have a small perch (a step about 3 feet square) where I lead the choir. It is on the outside of the choir loft, in full view of the entire congregation. (And let me tell you, it is a fat girl's nightmare! I've never been so concerned about VPL's in my life [that's Visible Panty Lines for you guys.]) And also scared of falling off my perch, possibly falling right through the floor down into the Children's Church area, squishing some blessed darling.

Last week I got my hair cut and colored (Big Red is back, baby!) and my lovely, talented and patient hair dresser took special care to make sure the back of my hair looks good, as she noted that most people don't have to care about the back of their hair, but because of leading the choir, I do. Isn't that sweet of her to think of that? I see a Christmas bonus in her future!

Also while walking this coworker and I are often passed by more serious and enthusiastic walkers, joggers and runners. We just let them pass, usually making the same excuse over and again, that she has cancer and I'm fat. I suggested we make T-shirts with that on them. We've yet to finalize what we're putting on the back. I'll be sure to post a pic if we ever get them made!