When I was younger-- early elementary school ish-- I had a fruit fly incident. My neighbor and I were innocently jumping on her awesome giant trampoline (commonly referred to as the "tramp" which now has some serious comedic value...), squealing and trying to out-do each other with parent-approved acrobatic tricks.
For some reason that I can't recall, said neighbor girl went into her house for a brief minute and I joyfully embraced the opportunity to have the whole tramp (hehe) all to myself. I jumped and twirled and did back drops, seat drops, donkey kicks, everything I could imagine except for the forbidden flip. All of the sudden my bliss was rudely interrupted by a loud noise in one ear. I stopped dead between jumps and waited for something (what? beats me) to happen. Out of nowhere an insanely loud BUZZING rattled my brain. I grabbed the side of my head and shrieked. I dug my finger into my ear trying to get whatever was buzzing OUT.
I continued this psychotic behavior as I haphazardly ran home-- screaming and slapping my ear all the way, playing the part of the neighborhood basket case who'd finally flown off the deep end. I quickly got to my house and by the grace of God alone and mom-super-powers, my mom was able to figure out what happened amidst the shouts, tears, ear slapping, and overall terror I presented her with. She quickly sent me to my room. Seriously? I was in the midst of serious trauma and I'm getting punished? Yep. I later learned that this was so she could call the doctor's office to figure out a game plan. My sister was a bystander in the commotion and thought my mom had HIT me and that's why I was holding my ear and bawling. The mayhem of it all! All this time that damned fruit fly kept buzzing away intermittently. There was no rhythm, no predictability, nothing. Out of the blue all of the sudden BUZZ. It scared me spitless every time and instigated a whole new fit of tears and hysteria.
In the haze of memory, I don't recall the drive to the doctor's office or how my mom tolerated my behavior whilst driving. I remember finally being in the exam room and the doctor essentially squirt-gunning the little devil out of my poor ear canal. I remember them counting the legs and wings to make sure they got it all. So gross. Needless to say, I have a bit of a grudge towards the pesky little flies.
All this is a major contributing factor to my fury towards the fruit flies that are overtaking my apartment. They are SWARMING. I have a bad habit of leaving the cupboards open, and the other day I realized "ew, I should close them so these damn flies don't go in." Too late. The next morning I opened one only to see a bunch of them fly out of it. IT IS SO GROSS. I have many a dishes that need a washing, and I'm pretty sure that's why the damn flies are here anyway, but I can't wash them without creating a swarm of fruit fly fury! I have tried attacking them with a 409 squirt bottle, but can never get enough of them to have a window of safety to wash the damn dishes. I have tried the apple cider vinegar traps and while a few are accumulating (grosser), there are many more that aren't falling for my tricks.
I finally took the garbage out. That was a big step. It was the home base of the enemy. I refused to take the bag out of the can-- the can was pretty sad anyway. On my way home from church last night, I stopped at Target and just bought a new garbage can. This morning I dawned gloves, put my hood up and cinched it tight (ear protection), preparing for battle. I'd placed a trap on top of the garbage can, so I had to first move it first, which was tricky because a few of the little terrors were just sitting on top of the trap. I darted in for the maneuver and a swarm rose and I shrieked and retreated immediately. After a few minutes of staring them down, I crept back in. This time I needed to pull the garbage can away from the wall in order to secure another garbage bag over the top of it for transport to the dumpster. I finally gathered the courage for the task and I accidentally pushed the button to flip open the lid! They came POURING OUT OF THE LID IN MASSES. I swore at them and felt my stomach flip flop. Not a good time for puking, self. I was paralyzed in terror and watched as they just kept coming out of the grotesque can of rubbage. I then realized they would keep coming out of it until I closed the lid again so I darted into shut it. FAIL. IT FLIPPED BACK OPEN. OH MY GOSH THIS IS INSANITY. I went back in for a second attempt and was thankfully successful. I backed away quickly and just watched in horror as the amount of fruit flies seemed to have quadrupled and my progress hadn't budged forward a bit. I had a moment of clarity when I realized the ridiculousness of the situation. After a brief mental pep talk, I went in again- and THE SAME THING HAPPENED. FML. I just started shrieking without stopping, slammed the lid closed, covered it with the garbage bag as the winged heathens swarmed my hooded head and I swear they attacked me. I had visions of cartoons scenes coming true... when all the flies form an arrow and point to their target... With the bag secure I took two seconds to breathe, then quickly ushered the whole thing outside into the (outdoor) hallway. Next-- recylcing. It was right next to the garbage, so while there's no fruit-fly-food, they still took a liking to it. By this point I was in the zone and just went for it-- breaking down boxes and consolidating them to three containers. One by one they went into the hallway too. For whatever reason it felt way safer with the hazardous waste outside my apartment than inside. I still kept gloves on and hood up as I transferred it all to the dumpster.
Next step? Dishes. I still am not sure how to conquer that battle. I seriously want a beekeeper's suit. :/
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Purchase Confirmed
As the weather has turned gray and rainy, I've wanted to go somewhere bright and sunny more and more. I'm in no life position right now to make major changes (like moving), so a getaway is the next best thing. During a rare lunch break at work yesterday, a friend and I were commiserating about the long winter ahead and were casually discussing a warm weather vacation. I had the brilliant idea to start browsing Groupon Getaways on my stinkin' smart phone to see what deals were available. I saw one for Costa Rica, somewhere I've always wanted to go, and my friend got excited about that one, too. I clicked on it and our conversation turned to something else, but I kept mindlessly browsing while we chatted-- totally not paying attention to what I clicked on. All of the sudden I as I glanced down at the touch-screen, I saw a window that said "Congratulations! Purchase Confirmed."
....
ummmm WHAT?!
"Guys, I just.... bought it!" I shrieked. I felt the blood drain from my face and my stomach do flip flops and my mind started racing: 'That is a LOT of money that just changed hands... I don't even know what this offers!... It's a getaway for two-- and I don't have a 'two'(sniffle).... I don't want to go to some unknown Costa Rica place by MYSELF! Will they refund it? No, it's a coupon!... SERIOUSLY, KRISTIN?!?!'
I'm a Groupon enthusiast, so it has my stupid credit card information saved, and in my mindless web surfing, I accidentally bought it. WHO DOES THAT?! Unfortunately, my lunch was taken at a late afternoon hour (as per usual), so Groupon was CLOSED and couldn't hear my sob story and refund my mistake.
As the afternoon turned to evening and we returned to patient care, we got to thinking... well.. I have always wanted to go there... It's a pretty great deal for the stay, we'd just need to find a flight... I have at least one friend that will come with me... So we started getting excited. Between vital signs, medications, charting, and all the other mayhem that goes down, we were frantically searching flights and our schedules to try and make something work. I was still kinda nauseous at the whole thing, but I must admit-- a tropical vacation with friends from work-- who have become really great friends!-- is totally something I could handle (and would really benefit from) right now. I'm young... not tied down... don't have to save money for my kids or anything... soooo... all in the spirit of adventure right? I think we're going to go! :)
It's at some hippie-mother earth-tranquility now-zen retreat place... that offers nutritional counseling (...great) and two 50 minute massages (kill me). I don't care about that jazz. The hotel part is cheaper than any other hotel we could find and we'll be in COSTA RICA! We don't have to have their ginger glazed tofu entree... we can do whatever we want. This excites me.
Planning is to continue... but my nausea has turned to excitement and it's all topped off by the fact it has to be used before November 30th! HA! Love spontaneity, even if it comes completely by mistake.
....
ummmm WHAT?!
"Guys, I just.... bought it!" I shrieked. I felt the blood drain from my face and my stomach do flip flops and my mind started racing: 'That is a LOT of money that just changed hands... I don't even know what this offers!... It's a getaway for two-- and I don't have a 'two'(sniffle).... I don't want to go to some unknown Costa Rica place by MYSELF! Will they refund it? No, it's a coupon!... SERIOUSLY, KRISTIN?!?!'
I'm a Groupon enthusiast, so it has my stupid credit card information saved, and in my mindless web surfing, I accidentally bought it. WHO DOES THAT?! Unfortunately, my lunch was taken at a late afternoon hour (as per usual), so Groupon was CLOSED and couldn't hear my sob story and refund my mistake.
As the afternoon turned to evening and we returned to patient care, we got to thinking... well.. I have always wanted to go there... It's a pretty great deal for the stay, we'd just need to find a flight... I have at least one friend that will come with me... So we started getting excited. Between vital signs, medications, charting, and all the other mayhem that goes down, we were frantically searching flights and our schedules to try and make something work. I was still kinda nauseous at the whole thing, but I must admit-- a tropical vacation with friends from work-- who have become really great friends!-- is totally something I could handle (and would really benefit from) right now. I'm young... not tied down... don't have to save money for my kids or anything... soooo... all in the spirit of adventure right? I think we're going to go! :)
It's at some hippie-mother earth-tranquility now-zen retreat place... that offers nutritional counseling (...great) and two 50 minute massages (kill me). I don't care about that jazz. The hotel part is cheaper than any other hotel we could find and we'll be in COSTA RICA! We don't have to have their ginger glazed tofu entree... we can do whatever we want. This excites me.
Planning is to continue... but my nausea has turned to excitement and it's all topped off by the fact it has to be used before November 30th! HA! Love spontaneity, even if it comes completely by mistake.
Friday, September 9, 2011
For you, mom. :)
One of the perks of living in Seattle is that trips home are far more practical and frequent than when I lived in Chicago. I love my family-- both immediate and extended. It wasn't until I was in college and had to start missing Thanksgiving and/or Christmas because of expensive plane tickets and/or work schedules that I realized how much I wanted to see them more. I've been in Seattle for almost two years, and while I haven't seen them all heaps more than I did, I feel closer. I got to go to my cousins beautiful wedding, I saw my cousin and her daughter when they made an unexpected trip to Seattle, my mom was able to drive up when I really needed her to, I just got to go home for my Grandma's birthday... It's been good. While I seriously doubt how much long term potential Seattle has for me, I've enjoyed the proximity to my family that it's offered.
It was at said Grandma's birthday extravaganza that my biggest fan (aka my mom) made a public request for me to post on this blog. Awkward? Um, yes. What can ya do.. she's a mom.
It's true, I went on a blogging hiatus in May I think. Truthfully, it's because it's been a pretty crappy summer.. and to be blunt, I refuse to be one of those emo-sob-story-feel-sorry-for-me-this-is-all-my-shit bloggers. Who wants to read someone else whining? Not me, that's for sure. To sum it up... I got dumped. There was conflict present and ex Mr. Wonderful went to New Zealand just as it reared its head, so we agreed to deal with it when he got back. But the day after he returned to Seattle, he decided he didn't want to try to work anything out and ended our relationship (after going to church that morning, kayaking that afternoon, and having sushi that evening). So-- a tense summer with everything hanging, then a huge life changing disappointment. Not blog worthy in my opinion.
It's been a horrific month. I can't put it any other way. I think it's a testament to the absolutely wonderful life I've been blessed with, that getting dumped has been so gut wrenchingly devastating to me. I've been blessed within it though, and it's those blessings that help me get out of bed, go to work, remember to breathe and essentially get through the day. I've always thought my social circle in Seattle was so small if existent at all. But, I've been pleasantly surprised at how many people have risen up and said "I'm here," amidst everything. It's been very helpful, and my social calendar is so full-- I love it. Nothing will ever undo the hurt that was done, but I am trying so hard to trust that God will make good of this and that in time I will be okay. Truthfully, I'm still broken.
...this is starting to sound like one of those bloggers...
Despite all that, I'm coaching a soccer team again. It's a great activity that I'm thankful for. This time around it's middle school girls. There are 24 of them and they're quite the bunch! We got one practice that lasted one hour before our first game (which is to be held on Monday). It will be quite the character building experience. Of the 24 I'd say about half of them have never played before. Girls will show up with their hair down. They forget their socks so they're wearing cleats and shin guards only. I'd be lying if I told you nobody showed up in clogs on the first day. Don't get me started on their "beehive" technique in playing the game. There are so many things I want to show them, teach them, help them do better-- but in an hour I can only do so much. OH YEA-- and for my 24 girls we get a whopping NINE soccer balls! Nutso.
Anyway, that's all I guess. Really nothing comical or uplifting for that matter, but a post is a post. Happy, mom? :) I'm sure many a funny story will come with this group of girls-- they're a fun group so far.
It was at said Grandma's birthday extravaganza that my biggest fan (aka my mom) made a public request for me to post on this blog. Awkward? Um, yes. What can ya do.. she's a mom.
It's true, I went on a blogging hiatus in May I think. Truthfully, it's because it's been a pretty crappy summer.. and to be blunt, I refuse to be one of those emo-sob-story-feel-sorry-for-me-this-is-all-my-shit bloggers. Who wants to read someone else whining? Not me, that's for sure. To sum it up... I got dumped. There was conflict present and ex Mr. Wonderful went to New Zealand just as it reared its head, so we agreed to deal with it when he got back. But the day after he returned to Seattle, he decided he didn't want to try to work anything out and ended our relationship (after going to church that morning, kayaking that afternoon, and having sushi that evening). So-- a tense summer with everything hanging, then a huge life changing disappointment. Not blog worthy in my opinion.
It's been a horrific month. I can't put it any other way. I think it's a testament to the absolutely wonderful life I've been blessed with, that getting dumped has been so gut wrenchingly devastating to me. I've been blessed within it though, and it's those blessings that help me get out of bed, go to work, remember to breathe and essentially get through the day. I've always thought my social circle in Seattle was so small if existent at all. But, I've been pleasantly surprised at how many people have risen up and said "I'm here," amidst everything. It's been very helpful, and my social calendar is so full-- I love it. Nothing will ever undo the hurt that was done, but I am trying so hard to trust that God will make good of this and that in time I will be okay. Truthfully, I'm still broken.
...this is starting to sound like one of those bloggers...
Despite all that, I'm coaching a soccer team again. It's a great activity that I'm thankful for. This time around it's middle school girls. There are 24 of them and they're quite the bunch! We got one practice that lasted one hour before our first game (which is to be held on Monday). It will be quite the character building experience. Of the 24 I'd say about half of them have never played before. Girls will show up with their hair down. They forget their socks so they're wearing cleats and shin guards only. I'd be lying if I told you nobody showed up in clogs on the first day. Don't get me started on their "beehive" technique in playing the game. There are so many things I want to show them, teach them, help them do better-- but in an hour I can only do so much. OH YEA-- and for my 24 girls we get a whopping NINE soccer balls! Nutso.
Anyway, that's all I guess. Really nothing comical or uplifting for that matter, but a post is a post. Happy, mom? :) I'm sure many a funny story will come with this group of girls-- they're a fun group so far.
Sunday, May 8, 2011
"Don't defibrilate me."
I'm pleased to report that there have been a few sunny days in Seattle. They are sparse and almost too much of a tease more than anything, but I am so thankful for the warmth when it decides to swing by.
Unfortunately we're church hunting again. The place we'd found in ...September-ish (I think) is essentially closed for 5 months. I'll spare the dramatic details, as they're quite confusing and they don't change the fact that the place we liked is no longer available. Church hunting is not my favorite activity, but I eagerly await whatever life lessons this journey holds.
This morning we went to a place that I can see myself liking. During the sermon the pastor was talking about having a calling, which naturally made me think 'what's my calling?' I immediately think to my job-- I love it and I guess if I had to answer someone in a hot second, I would claim that. But does that mean I should be doing it ... all the time? I've been trying to figure out what activity/hobby/whatever I should take on, and it seems I'll be staying in Seattle for at least another year. Grad school? Ugh-- let's not go there. Another job? What? Trying to find a coaching opportunity that will work with my work schedule is close to impossible. The pastor said something else, too-- that we should be doing things related to our calling.. our activities and choices should all be an investment in our hobby. That is logical, but if my calling is actually work-- I can't imagine having all my activities center around that.
I miss college-- when I was so busy with classes and soccer and giving silly campus tours that I didn't have time to think about a calling. I feel very stagnant right now and it's my own fault completely, but I feel like choosing something is a big deal-- commitment, pressure, etc. It's overwhelming.
Mr. Wonderful got a contract to teach at his dream job at his dream school for another year-- which is wonderful and I'm very proud of him. He beat out other faculty who have more experience and seniority. It's a big testament to how valuable and awesome of a teacher he is that he was offered a contract.
Our plan B if he didn't get one was to do travel nursing. I'd do the nurse part and he'd get temporary subbing jobs or odd jobs wherever we went. It was his idea even! I've wanted to do travel nursing since nursing school, but the timing has never been right. First it was 'They don't hire new-grads' so I decided to work for at least a year and then look into it. I did exactly that, but of course the economy had tanked-- hospitals couldn't afford travel nurses so jobs were really sparse and being given to way more experienced nurses. So I moved to a permanent job in Seattle. While I really love my job here and feel very privileged to work where I do, Matt and I both know that Seattle isn't where we want to live forever, and are both excited for the day we can move. I was really excited to finally pursue travel nursing, but again-- it's been put off. It's quite conflicting, I won't lie-- I'm so happy that his career is working out and that he got what he wanted. My joy for him is genuine. I can't deny my disappointment, though, that we'll be here
for another year, and that a 'dream' of mine is postponed... again. I understand why and for the most part, it makes sense. I think I got my hopes up a little too high.
I am trying my darndest to see the bright side-- I get to look a little harder for some good things about Seattle, embrace parts of it that I've ignored. I believe whole heartedly that God wants me here for a reason, so it's probably in my best interest to figure out why.
Complete topic shift: I love spinning and I've been getting reacquainted with the treadmill. I'll leave it at that, as my speed (or lack thereof) is shameful in comparison with where I once was, but the fact of the matter is that I've made very slight progress and I'm insanely grateful for it. I'd love to do another triathlon this summer. I've gotta get my fitness back first though.
A few weeks ago, as I was cleaning my bike off after spinning, the instructor gave a shameless plug for the other classes she teaches and for a free 50 minute fitness assessment. I forget her exact wording, but she said something about creating a plan to help you achieve your fitness goals and that caught my ear. I want to get back into lifting weights as I miss being toned, and the positive effects resistance training has on your metabolism are ones that I'd benefit from greatly. I've hesitated to visit the weight section of the gym because I've only got the same routine I've had since high school and college-- it's all soccer specific. Maybe I don't want soccer thighs anymore... Maybe this lady could set me up with a lifting routine that would be more appropriate to my fitness aspirations now. So I argued with my self for a good 3 minutes as I wiped down my bike eighteen times... and finally decided to inquire. I opened with "Here's the thing: there is no possible way I can afford personal training sessions... but I'm curious about this free assessment..." She suckered me in and at noon the next day I was walking into my 50 minute fitness assessment. First she asked me about what I ate and I cringed at the thought of my refrigerator full of condiments and my freezer full of Bocas. I told her it is pretty random, but I don't eat meat. So that conversation focused more on protein and its importance (durrrr) than anything which was fine because I hate talking about meal plans with people who don't even know me. So then we moved on and she said "let's do some measurements." All the blood in my head immediately drained and I felt clammy. My heart was racing and my stomach immediately started doing flip flops. I don't know why I reacted so strongly... I knew that measurements are standard in any assessment. So there, smack dab in the middle of the open floor plan of a mega gym, this lady took calipers to all my cushy areas... she used a tape measure in more places than I ever imagined, and she weighed me. All in the midst of bodybuilders, ballerinas, super gym freaks, and the like. It was mortifying. People stare. I stared back... kind of a hate-stare. Hehe. But seriously-- if you ever see someone being publicly humiliated in such a fashion, it is just a common courtesy to look away. Nobody likes a starer.
So after she was reminding me of my pudgy body composition and ridiculous ratio of fat:nonfat, we did a mini workout. Really-- the exercises in and of themselves were no big deal-- I wouldn't have considered them a workout. For some reason though after the last one (pull ups... lets talk about how successful that was... PAH), I got so dizzy. I refused to admit that I might faint after such nonsense activity so when the lady said "are you feeling okay, you look very pale..." I was more insulted at her ballsiness to comment on my poor pigmentation. I insisted I was totally fine and she left to make a photo copy of my measurements for me. Bless her. I woke up to far too many strangers standing over me and I heard someone say "Get the defibrillator!!!" I meekly said "don't defibrilate me." Oh it was a grand scene. This is how my life goes. I guess diligent hydration should be higher on my priority list. Whatever. After all that, the assessment was really useless, I didn't get a new lifting routine out of it and I was insanely embarassed. All in a day.
Regardless-- I am enjoying the gym and that is a statement. Praise God for that one.
Unfortunately we're church hunting again. The place we'd found in ...September-ish (I think) is essentially closed for 5 months. I'll spare the dramatic details, as they're quite confusing and they don't change the fact that the place we liked is no longer available. Church hunting is not my favorite activity, but I eagerly await whatever life lessons this journey holds.
This morning we went to a place that I can see myself liking. During the sermon the pastor was talking about having a calling, which naturally made me think 'what's my calling?' I immediately think to my job-- I love it and I guess if I had to answer someone in a hot second, I would claim that. But does that mean I should be doing it ... all the time? I've been trying to figure out what activity/hobby/whatever I should take on, and it seems I'll be staying in Seattle for at least another year. Grad school? Ugh-- let's not go there. Another job? What? Trying to find a coaching opportunity that will work with my work schedule is close to impossible. The pastor said something else, too-- that we should be doing things related to our calling.. our activities and choices should all be an investment in our hobby. That is logical, but if my calling is actually work-- I can't imagine having all my activities center around that.
I miss college-- when I was so busy with classes and soccer and giving silly campus tours that I didn't have time to think about a calling. I feel very stagnant right now and it's my own fault completely, but I feel like choosing something is a big deal-- commitment, pressure, etc. It's overwhelming.
Mr. Wonderful got a contract to teach at his dream job at his dream school for another year-- which is wonderful and I'm very proud of him. He beat out other faculty who have more experience and seniority. It's a big testament to how valuable and awesome of a teacher he is that he was offered a contract.
Our plan B if he didn't get one was to do travel nursing. I'd do the nurse part and he'd get temporary subbing jobs or odd jobs wherever we went. It was his idea even! I've wanted to do travel nursing since nursing school, but the timing has never been right. First it was 'They don't hire new-grads' so I decided to work for at least a year and then look into it. I did exactly that, but of course the economy had tanked-- hospitals couldn't afford travel nurses so jobs were really sparse and being given to way more experienced nurses. So I moved to a permanent job in Seattle. While I really love my job here and feel very privileged to work where I do, Matt and I both know that Seattle isn't where we want to live forever, and are both excited for the day we can move. I was really excited to finally pursue travel nursing, but again-- it's been put off. It's quite conflicting, I won't lie-- I'm so happy that his career is working out and that he got what he wanted. My joy for him is genuine. I can't deny my disappointment, though, that we'll be here
for another year, and that a 'dream' of mine is postponed... again. I understand why and for the most part, it makes sense. I think I got my hopes up a little too high.
I am trying my darndest to see the bright side-- I get to look a little harder for some good things about Seattle, embrace parts of it that I've ignored. I believe whole heartedly that God wants me here for a reason, so it's probably in my best interest to figure out why.
Complete topic shift: I love spinning and I've been getting reacquainted with the treadmill. I'll leave it at that, as my speed (or lack thereof) is shameful in comparison with where I once was, but the fact of the matter is that I've made very slight progress and I'm insanely grateful for it. I'd love to do another triathlon this summer. I've gotta get my fitness back first though.
A few weeks ago, as I was cleaning my bike off after spinning, the instructor gave a shameless plug for the other classes she teaches and for a free 50 minute fitness assessment. I forget her exact wording, but she said something about creating a plan to help you achieve your fitness goals and that caught my ear. I want to get back into lifting weights as I miss being toned, and the positive effects resistance training has on your metabolism are ones that I'd benefit from greatly. I've hesitated to visit the weight section of the gym because I've only got the same routine I've had since high school and college-- it's all soccer specific. Maybe I don't want soccer thighs anymore... Maybe this lady could set me up with a lifting routine that would be more appropriate to my fitness aspirations now. So I argued with my self for a good 3 minutes as I wiped down my bike eighteen times... and finally decided to inquire. I opened with "Here's the thing: there is no possible way I can afford personal training sessions... but I'm curious about this free assessment..." She suckered me in and at noon the next day I was walking into my 50 minute fitness assessment. First she asked me about what I ate and I cringed at the thought of my refrigerator full of condiments and my freezer full of Bocas. I told her it is pretty random, but I don't eat meat. So that conversation focused more on protein and its importance (durrrr) than anything which was fine because I hate talking about meal plans with people who don't even know me. So then we moved on and she said "let's do some measurements." All the blood in my head immediately drained and I felt clammy. My heart was racing and my stomach immediately started doing flip flops. I don't know why I reacted so strongly... I knew that measurements are standard in any assessment. So there, smack dab in the middle of the open floor plan of a mega gym, this lady took calipers to all my cushy areas... she used a tape measure in more places than I ever imagined, and she weighed me. All in the midst of bodybuilders, ballerinas, super gym freaks, and the like. It was mortifying. People stare. I stared back... kind of a hate-stare. Hehe. But seriously-- if you ever see someone being publicly humiliated in such a fashion, it is just a common courtesy to look away. Nobody likes a starer.
So after she was reminding me of my pudgy body composition and ridiculous ratio of fat:nonfat, we did a mini workout. Really-- the exercises in and of themselves were no big deal-- I wouldn't have considered them a workout. For some reason though after the last one (pull ups... lets talk about how successful that was... PAH), I got so dizzy. I refused to admit that I might faint after such nonsense activity so when the lady said "are you feeling okay, you look very pale..." I was more insulted at her ballsiness to comment on my poor pigmentation. I insisted I was totally fine and she left to make a photo copy of my measurements for me. Bless her. I woke up to far too many strangers standing over me and I heard someone say "Get the defibrillator!!!" I meekly said "don't defibrilate me." Oh it was a grand scene. This is how my life goes. I guess diligent hydration should be higher on my priority list. Whatever. After all that, the assessment was really useless, I didn't get a new lifting routine out of it and I was insanely embarassed. All in a day.
Regardless-- I am enjoying the gym and that is a statement. Praise God for that one.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Random
Long time, eh? I fairly genuinely enjoy spinning again! I have a favorite instructor at the gym here (will always hold a special place for Heidi at the Courthouse...)-- Julie. The first time she taught a class I went to, I saw her and was immediately terrified. She is very petite, short hair, and despite the fact that she isn't a young spunky 20-something fitness instructor, you can tell that she will kick your ass at any athletic event. She wore an Ironman bike jersey and had all fancy bike shoes and stuff. Shortly after we boarded our stationary bikes, I learned that her appearance was no facade... she was a legit endurance athlete. Definitely one of the HARDEST workouts, but I felt like I was able to get a lot out of it. It wasn't lame and it wasn't so insanely impossibly extreme that it was ineffective (don't get me wrong... the workout she led still made me want to throw up... several times). What I like best about her teaching style is that the workout is planned so that your cadence is always to the beat of whatever song is playing. She picks songs based on their beat. It's genius, and it is my preference... Everyone has their learning style in school... that's my learning style in spinning. I enthusiastically attend spinning whenever I don't work, and do my darndest to swim when I do work. Waking up at 330am is hard, though... even for the early bird. Especially three days in a row. Regardless of the mind numbingly slow nature of it, I call this all progress and am immensely grateful for it.
Snow shoeing with small group friends
Matt's little brother and sister came for a visit
We've gone hiking a couple of times... only once in the snow...
And most recently we learned how to paint!
Anyway, I'm so excited for winter to be on its way out. Losing an hour of sleep was hard, but now it is still light out at 7pm and that is reason for celebration if you ask me. I've kept myself busy enough over the arctic months, but am hoping for a new activity to embrace. A part time job? Volunteering? Coaching again? Getting serious about triathlons again? Who knows. Working three days a week has its ups and downs. Sometimes if feels like I can't get away from that place no matter how hard I try, and I am exhausted to the deepest core of my being. Other times it feels like I don't really have a job and I'm sitting around all the time. I will never complain about a 3 day work week... I cannot picture myself in a Monday to Friday 9 to 5 situation. However, I'd love a more balanced feeling instead of jumping from one extreme to another.
In those work lulls, I've had some fun:
Snow shoeing with small group friends Matt's little brother and sister came for a visit We've gone hiking a couple of times... only once in the snow... And most recently we learned how to paint!I still need a dentist. I would be grateful for a good haircut. I think I'm low on contacts, too... meaning an Opthomolagist hunt is in my near future. Lame post, I know... but it's been over a month, so I figured I should say something. :)
Monday, February 7, 2011
Spinning
Last week, I decided I should go to spinning and miraculously, I did! It was interesting. Not the sure death I was expecting, but nowhere near the thrill of when I went to spinning whilst in shape (and at the best gym ever-- the Courthouse). At this mega gym, I'm paranoid about not getting a bike, so naturally I showed up 37 minutes early. There was no sign up or anything so I poked my head in the spinning room, and of course there were about 50 lonely bikes without a soul claiming one of them. So I dilly dallied... went to the bathroom... checked my phone... deleted old texts... and then finally decided just to go wait it out on the bike. So, for 30 minutes before the torture began, I pedaled ... leisurely. In my cardiovascular state, even a leisurely pedal renders great amounts of perspiration an fatigue. When people started trickling in 3 minutes before the class started I was on my way to winded and sweating buckets already.
The instructor came in and we started warming up (pah! I was already sweltering). She decided she wanted to learn everyone's names (there were about 12 people there-- glad I got there early... psh). She heard my name as KristinE and I wasn't going to waste more of my breath trying to correct her.
We spun. We climbed "hills" we sprinted, we stood up we "hovered" we jumped... it was so hard. I totally pansy'd on a lot of it, I won't lie. I put forth genuine effort and it was reflected in my heart rate that we checked 3 times over the course of an hour. Each time I was at 180 beats/min. I feel like that's physiologically unhealthy, but I've never been a heart rate enthusiast during exercise, something I'm slightly considering changing.
At one point as I was huffing and puffing along, the instructor got off her bike in the front of the room and walked over to me. I was focused on staying upright so I didn't notice until she was right in front of me. She covered her microphone and asked: "KristinE, ...are you okay?" I looked at her-- half bewildered, half cross eyed and could only manage to nod my head 'yes' too enthusiastically and showered her in my sweat. Whoopsie.
There was one 'activity' where for 15 seconds one person would sprint while everyone else in the class maintained a non-sprint cadence and cheered the sprinter on. I wanted to die. It's one thing to go through this experience in the public setting of a group fitness class, but it's another to have that public setting LOOK AT YOU while you're suffering. It was mortifying and I was sure that if I didn't die from cardiac fatigue, then I'd surely keel over from sheer embarrassment.
Finally the class ended and I essentially fell off my bike. It was awkward. I felt very accomplished for finishing it, but really disappointed, too. I used to LOVE spinning and it would be my second or third workout of the day. Now it's all I can do to not only motivate myself to go, but to BARELY stay on the bike the whole time. I know I have a lot of work to do... and it's daunting.
I elliptical/biked the next day, then swam before work the day after that. (The chlorine does something to my nose-- I think it's like an allergy... I sneeze ALL day, and by the end of the day my nose is COMPLETELY occluded. It's hard to swallow.. hard to talk... very uncomfortable.) Anyway-- took yesterday off mostly because I didn't want to get up at 3:30am again to go before work.
I span? spun? spinned? whatever today and yesterday. It's very true that the instructor plays such a huge role in the experience. I have come close to enjoying spinning again. We'll see how it develops. I work the next three days so I won't get to another class, but will swim and perhaps venture back into lifting again before work. We'll see. One day at a time.
The instructor came in and we started warming up (pah! I was already sweltering). She decided she wanted to learn everyone's names (there were about 12 people there-- glad I got there early... psh). She heard my name as KristinE and I wasn't going to waste more of my breath trying to correct her.
We spun. We climbed "hills" we sprinted, we stood up we "hovered" we jumped... it was so hard. I totally pansy'd on a lot of it, I won't lie. I put forth genuine effort and it was reflected in my heart rate that we checked 3 times over the course of an hour. Each time I was at 180 beats/min. I feel like that's physiologically unhealthy, but I've never been a heart rate enthusiast during exercise, something I'm slightly considering changing.
At one point as I was huffing and puffing along, the instructor got off her bike in the front of the room and walked over to me. I was focused on staying upright so I didn't notice until she was right in front of me. She covered her microphone and asked: "KristinE, ...are you okay?" I looked at her-- half bewildered, half cross eyed and could only manage to nod my head 'yes' too enthusiastically and showered her in my sweat. Whoopsie.
There was one 'activity' where for 15 seconds one person would sprint while everyone else in the class maintained a non-sprint cadence and cheered the sprinter on. I wanted to die. It's one thing to go through this experience in the public setting of a group fitness class, but it's another to have that public setting LOOK AT YOU while you're suffering. It was mortifying and I was sure that if I didn't die from cardiac fatigue, then I'd surely keel over from sheer embarrassment.
Finally the class ended and I essentially fell off my bike. It was awkward. I felt very accomplished for finishing it, but really disappointed, too. I used to LOVE spinning and it would be my second or third workout of the day. Now it's all I can do to not only motivate myself to go, but to BARELY stay on the bike the whole time. I know I have a lot of work to do... and it's daunting.
I elliptical/biked the next day, then swam before work the day after that. (The chlorine does something to my nose-- I think it's like an allergy... I sneeze ALL day, and by the end of the day my nose is COMPLETELY occluded. It's hard to swallow.. hard to talk... very uncomfortable.) Anyway-- took yesterday off mostly because I didn't want to get up at 3:30am again to go before work.
I span? spun? spinned? whatever today and yesterday. It's very true that the instructor plays such a huge role in the experience. I have come close to enjoying spinning again. We'll see how it develops. I work the next three days so I won't get to another class, but will swim and perhaps venture back into lifting again before work. We'll see. One day at a time.
Friday, January 21, 2011
"I can't believe it's January!"
I can't decide if a mid winter trip to paradise was a good idea or a terrible one.
In November, Southwest Airlines had a wonderful sale that landed Mr. Wonderful and me round trip tickets to LA for $120 in January. Hard to turn that down! So after a perfect little birthday celebration on Thursday night (complete with dinner ready for me after work, a new watch and his own rendition of "ice cream carrot cake".... ) we flew down to sunny So.Cal on Friday morning and had the best four day getaway ever. We didn't stay in LA at all. We rented a car and put 600 miles on it between Friday and Monday! He has family scattered in the great state of CA, and we visited all of them, and even had some extra time to explore what we think is the perfect city-- Santa Barbara!
In November, Southwest Airlines had a wonderful sale that landed Mr. Wonderful and me round trip tickets to LA for $120 in January. Hard to turn that down! So after a perfect little birthday celebration on Thursday night (complete with dinner ready for me after work, a new watch and his own rendition of "ice cream carrot cake".... ) we flew down to sunny So.Cal on Friday morning and had the best four day getaway ever. We didn't stay in LA at all. We rented a car and put 600 miles on it between Friday and Monday! He has family scattered in the great state of CA, and we visited all of them, and even had some extra time to explore what we think is the perfect city-- Santa Barbara!
Friday we flew into LA and immediately drove to Long Beach where we stayed the night with his grandfather.
Saturday morning we drove to Redlands (close to San Bernardino... I think) to visit his sister who is absolutely delightful.
That evening we drove to Oxnard (just south of Santa Barbara) and hotel'd it for the night. We ordered takeout (because we were kinda exhausted!) and Matt got something off the "exotic menu"-- kabobs with kangaroo, antelope, gator, and turtle!
Early Sunday, we drove up to Santa Barbara and explored the city and imagined how wonderful it would be to live there. We walked around downtown and enjoyed a local coffee shop, walked from downtown to the beach, then down the pier. Finally, we drove to Hendrie Beach, recommended by a fellow Seattle-ite that we met at the coffee shop! It was BEAUTIFUL.
The pier
LOVING THE BEACH
Sunday late afternoon drove along the Pacific Coast Highway down to Malibu (for a surf check-- of course!), then over to Santa Clarita to visit with another sister, and her husband and two kids (one is 7 weeks, the other is 14 months).
I don't think Baby Tim was loving me too much... he's got some great facial expressions!
Sunday evening drove back down to Long Beach. Monday, we spent quality time at the BEACH. Matt surfed and I sunned, it was perfect in every way.
Monday afternoon we had lunch with his Grandfather and went on a short walk, then it was back to LA to fly back to Seattle. Phew! It was such a fun trip. So beautiful, so refreshing. EXACTLY what I needed. The weather couldn't have been better, it was 75 perfect degrees all four days we were there! It got chilly at night, but during the day it was the the perfect shorts-n-t-shirts-drive-with-the windows-down-break-out-your-sunglasses-get-a-sunburn-and-love-it time of our lives. We kept saying "I can't believe it's January!"
I won't lie, I got pretty crabby on Monday when we left the beach. I knew we had to go back to Seattle, but truthfully, I didn't want to! I was finally warm! Regardless of whether or not I wanted to, we came back without major event (although Mr. Wonderful lost his phone in LAX, but found it right before our flight... grateful shoutout to whoever turned it in!).
So here I sit, in my apartment while it rains like crazy outside and the sky is a deep shade of grey. My goal this week is to find some divine beauty in the grey... it's Friday and I'm empty handed. God did handiwork in Seattle, too... right?
What can I say? I just like to be outside when it's warm. And I won't deny the benefits of the sun on my attitude. While the stereotypical culture of southern California (bleach blonde hair, super materialistic, etc etc) is a huge turn off for me, I can't help but long for the sunny weather and the real ocean at my fingertips. (If you tell me the Puget Sound is technically the ocean, I will tell you I don't care... no waves, no ocean.)
I mean seriously... once you see this and feel its warmth... mid-winter... it's hard to turn away from it!
I won't lie, I got pretty crabby on Monday when we left the beach. I knew we had to go back to Seattle, but truthfully, I didn't want to! I was finally warm! Regardless of whether or not I wanted to, we came back without major event (although Mr. Wonderful lost his phone in LAX, but found it right before our flight... grateful shoutout to whoever turned it in!).
So here I sit, in my apartment while it rains like crazy outside and the sky is a deep shade of grey. My goal this week is to find some divine beauty in the grey... it's Friday and I'm empty handed. God did handiwork in Seattle, too... right?
What can I say? I just like to be outside when it's warm. And I won't deny the benefits of the sun on my attitude. While the stereotypical culture of southern California (bleach blonde hair, super materialistic, etc etc) is a huge turn off for me, I can't help but long for the sunny weather and the real ocean at my fingertips. (If you tell me the Puget Sound is technically the ocean, I will tell you I don't care... no waves, no ocean.)
I mean seriously... once you see this and feel its warmth... mid-winter... it's hard to turn away from it!
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