Sunday, December 20, 2015

Blogging 2015: 940 down, 1075 to go

So it's clear that I'm not making the 2015 in 2015, but overall I didn't do too badly. Considering that I barely ran this fall except to race, that is. I've only recently started running with any kind of regularity, and only casually (three times a week-ish). I've had a couple of email exchanges with my running coach and he assures me I'll have my training plan in my hot little hands this week. Good. I've already planned out my yoga schedule for January, and I can wrap my running schedule around it and then poke in some CrossFit.

I've been doing a decent job keeping my fitness level high. I've not been as strict with my diet as I had been previously so I'm up about 2 pounds from my lowest, which is okay. I love a shiny New Year for refocusing on goals. I'll be a good kid this week (for the most part) and then I'll get after 2016 with laser-like focus. Or not, because I'm basically a sloth. That's why I engaged a running coach. I'll do what people tell me to do, I just can't motivate myself.

My basement bar has been getting some use lately. By that I mean my Oly bar and plates. I've been doing my weighted hip thrusts at Kim's behest (working up to 135#, I'm at 125# right now). Overnights last week were pretty dull so I also got in a bunch of Bulgarian split squats and walking lunges. Sitting has been ouchy, but at least moving around keeps me awake when the orders aren't coming in.

Currently I'm participating in the "12daysofxmas" yoga challenge at Jenstar. One pose every day posted to instagram. Here's what I've done so far.

Downward facing dog, child's pose, low plank.

Wheel, crow, boat, warrior 2.

The crow picture was a third attempt, and I needed an assist into wheel. I need to work on my shoulder and wrist mobility in the coming year. I have the strength to do wheel, but I lack some flexibility. It's funny, I always think about flexibility as being a legs/hips thing, but a lot of it is really your back and shoulders as well. I'm a lot bendier than I was a year or two ago, but I there are always improvements to be made. Flexibility is good. Nothing wrong with being limber. So many things to be better at, and nothing but time.

Yesterday I drank a great deal of wine and made cookies with the smalls.

Final stage. Sugar every-fucking-where.

I didn't drink entirely alone. A friend came by for a puppy party and she helped a bit. The kids had early Giftmas with their Aunt and were safely tucked into bed at 8pm. I was not far behind them. I haven't been hungover in ages, since I barely drink anymore. I wasn't exactly hungover this morning, but I definitely felt the after effects of the wine. No workout yesterday because kids/cookies and none today...felt too blah. I'll be back at the box for the five-one-five in the morning, though. Yoga at 1030 and more hip thrusts and split squats later on. Possibly a couple miles, too, but I have a lot of other shit to do. We'll see.

Favorite gift? Toothbrushes. I can't even.

Tonight we went to the Garden of Lights. The kids seemed to like it, when they weren't whining about being hungry (after having a sizeable dinner less than 45 minutes previous). 


You may recall that I had a Mirena placed in April (or not, it's not like you've memorized the life and times of my fucking uterus...and if you have, don't tell me, because that's weird as hell) in hopes that it would keep my internal organs from trying to kill me.  Well, it did not have the desired effect. I won't say it's been a nightmare, because that isn't true. It's been more like a really annoying dream. You know, one of those dreams that you have over and over and you wake up out of it thinking "What the fuck was that?" but you can't put your finger on what was so weird about the dream? No? Just me then?  Whatever.

So at the moment my uterus is pretty pissed off. She is annoyed as hell with the little plastic intruder and is making me pay for it. 

WTF is this thing? I don't like it.

My uterus has really gotten her mascara game together in the last 8 months. Kinda shit with the eyeliner, though.

So after waiting the suggested 6 months for shit to "even out" I basically called my Gyn and said "This is some horseshit. Yank this motherfucker and ablate. ABLATE ABLATE!"  My Gyn responded "No prob, how's 1/19? We'll burn some shit down." because he's cool like that.  Also I may have threatened to damage his home. 

So what's an ablation? Basically they jam a lightsabre up your cooch and burn out your endometrium.  

Lightsabre. Green, 'cause it's pretty.

Well, not really. It's a radiofrequency ablation, not an electrical ablation, but you get the idea.

Seriously. fucking die.

And then I go back to living life extra-hormone-and-chainsaw-massacre free. Hopefully. This shit is supposed to last 10ish years. I really hope that's the case. I'm so done right now. Apparently my doc likes to narc the shit out of patients before the procedure (which takes all of 5 seconds, so whatever) so I'll get to try some new and exciting drugs, including Percocet. I'm pretty stoked. The only controlled substance I've ever had was a few Vicodin after I got Frankensteined back together after my twins were born. I'm looking forward to this as market research.  I will apparently also get to try Celebrex and Xanax. FUN. I feel like that's overkill, but what do I know...I'm just a pharmacist.

With luck and baby dolphins I'll be back to normal activity the next day and running problem free into the spring.

And now it's time for bed. Early to bed, early to rise makes a woman...some inspirational shit that is usually attributed to Ben Franklin. 

Tomorrow some thoughts on the Solstice...

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