Now here's the weird part. I got an e-mail from a friend who had been on a little getaway with her husband last week. They were flying home and … get ready … missed their plane in Atlanta!
Doo doo doo doo, doo doo doo doo. [That's the scary music you always hear in horror movies when something bad is about to happen. Not that I ever watch horror movies.]
Maybe I was just dreaming about what happened to her, and I was taking it way too seriously, trying to make it all about me-me-me. Isn't that always the way it is? Heh.
I've been buying tons o' music on iTunes lately, some for a baby shower favor CD mix, some for myself and some for Mr. Shrinking Knitter. He's older than I, both in actual years and in mindset, especially when it comes to music. He thinks 1956 [I was five that year] was the Best Year Ever, for a variety of reasons, and he especially enjoys
listening to the golden oldies from that decade. He also likes hymns and gospel music. Me? If you've read my profile, my favorite musician is Bob Dylan, but I also enjoy rock, pop, disco, hip-hop and show tunes.So you can imagine what my recent and rather eclectic purchases have done to the iTunes "Recommended for You" feature. It probably had to go lie down after compiling my list. Could this be any weirder?
I put some of that music to good use yesterday lifting weights. Sometimes I think it's just too much trouble to tote my little Logitech speakers and iPod out to the garage where the weight bench is. How lazy is that? Pumping iron is much more fun when I'm also pumping out Fatboy Slim [Wonderful Night], Salt N Pepa [Push It], The Gap Band [You Dropped a Bomb] and Lily Allen [Friday Night]. [The speaker system weighs less than a pound and is smaller than a loaf of party rye. I'm so lame for ever thinking it's "too much trouble" to walk it from the house to the garage.]
Needless to say, the weight routine went great yesterday. I walked to the post office and back [1.5 miles], but didn't run at all. Today is a scheduled six-mile tempo run, but I have a gyno appointment this morning and it looks like rain later. I'll take my Friday rest day today, run six tomorrow, four Friday and eight Saturday. Of course if it doesn't rain, I'll run later. I'd rather stick with the schedule; my latent OCD tendencies just love sticking a little star on my calendar for each completed fitness task.
Looking back over my weight charts from last year, it looks like I've lost about 25 pounds since my doctor last saw me. He never was one to fuss at me about my weight, mostly because I was always heading him off at the pass. That's a good strategy, by the way, if you think you're going to get lectured about losing some lard. Go in for your appointment ready with a list of what you already do, and ask what s/he recommends to help facilitate the process.
At least s/he'll think you're trying. You are trying, aren't you?
2 comments:
luckily, i've never had a doctor tell me i was overweight but have known people that have... and when i was feeling 'fat', i took the initiate myself and asked for help - that was the hardest part... i also have a physical and full blood work done, once a year, so i can compare my progress... :o)
As a pre-teen/teenager my mother decided I should switch to the female doctor at the pediatrician's office we had always gone to and she was quite cruel to me about being "chubby." Even worse than my parents who had separate food for my brother and I.
Ironically, a few years ago I found out that this same doctor was apparently equally mean to my best friend who was, and still is, very thin. And, even better, I happened to see this doctor at a family event (since her family is apparently friendly with an older cousin of mine) and she was overweight. Ah, the cruel twist of fate that provides one so much satisfaction.
Nonetheless, I've never been back to a female doctor...
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