Today was Slack Day so I slept in, then only did the dishes and worked on the comic for most of the afternoon. When 6:30 rolled around, I did my usual pre-exercise stretches, dosed myself with Albuterol, ate a rubbery chunk of cold congealed oatmeal from the fridge (it was good, really) and took the Captain for a bike run in the bracing 20*f winds.
During the winter months, the sky is dark for most of my usual day. If my occasionally perverse sleep schedule sees fit to flip on me, I may not see the sun for a week or more. This is bad for biological/depression reasons, but I do love it. Especially when it snows (as it has for several days in a row, though nothing stuck for too long) and the clouds hang down low and take on the color of a bruise, and the snow turns blue and dim. You could walk through the woods without a flashlight on a night like that. Absolutely wonderful. On days when it's clear out and you can see stars during regular business hours, it never fails to remind me of the Night World levels of the original Super Mario Bros game. I even call it that, in my head. It feels more private and safe than summer nights when the sun stays up forever.
Meanwhile, our bike run was going pretty well. The Captain was exasperated with my slow pace and started pulling me pretty hard via his harness. The easier to tire you out, my dear. We rode a little more than two miles total, and on the way back I offered him a choice between "go home, get some dinner" and "dog park." His response was to drag me to the dog park at top speed. I could barely get him to stop at the busy cross-street.
The flooded parking lot area around the dog park had frozen over. The ice shattered all around us as we plowed through. I wince sometimes to think of the Captain's poor chilly toes when he plows through freezing water, but it's in his blood. It's the summer heat he doesn't like.
Inside the park, the Captain ran gleeful circles around me as I jogged around the dog park. I didn't have much endurance after years of refusing to run because of THE BOUNCE, but I was able to wear us both out. We can work on stamina later. My asthma did kick in after a while, but it's been a mild attack so far. Nothing like I would have had two years ago, that's for certain.
At one point I saw something incredibly bright moving over the park, and stopped running to look up at the most vivid shooting star I've ever seen. At first I thought it must be an airplane because it didn't burn out like the ones I usually see on clearer nights. It just fell forever in slow-motion toward the trees. I saw two tiny sparks shoot off from the main meteorite as the whole thing suddenly flared brighter, and then it was behind the trees and out of my line of sight. It was incredible.
Five minutes later, I saw something huge and dark gliding in slow circles overhead. It looked like a bird of prey, and it was enormous. It had to have had a five-foot wingspan at least. As I watched it, the bird vanished I couldn't find it again.
After this, we rode home and I took a hot shower, followed by an even hotter bath, followed by sabotage via freezing cold blasts of water from the faucet just to help spur me onto my feet again. Now I'm warm and comfy in my fluffy bathrobe and the Captain is snoring with his head hanging over the arm of Best Chair.
I feel utterly at peace with the world. The only thing that could make this better would be a hot plate of lo-mein and the latest episode of One Piece.
Speaking of which...
Showing posts with label exercise. Show all posts
Showing posts with label exercise. Show all posts
November 9, 2008
July 23, 2008
The Captain Rides Again
Well! Look what the Captain and I found happening just down the street.
It was kind of weird seeing that bubblehead bleach-blonde who's on every news channel holding an oversized mic in person. She looked uncomfortable, maybe because it was bitch degrees out and everyone in the neighborhood was sitting on their front lawns like contented cows to watch her shuffle around gesturing at the techs.
In other news, I has new bike. This one is a me-bike, not a replacement for the Jesse-bike I was using until recently. It's fucking badass and glorious and has a basket for groceries. Seebs came up with some ingenious balsa shims to get the Springer to stay perfectly rigid on the slightly smaller seat-post, and after a few hours of tinkering, it fit perfectly.
End result: The Captain and I got to go on our first bike run in months. WOO!
He was out of shape but kept up fairly well. I had to take it easy myself, but we had a damned good time. Went to the dog park, then rode around town on our way back home. He's still drooling all over the floor and panting like he's dying, but that smile on his face is unmistakable.
The new bike is silver-blue and sized at 13.5 inches (apparently I am one of the Wee Folk). New helmet is blue and white. I will be wearing it religiously from now on. I also want to get a loud and blaring horn for just-in-case purposes.
Now I need to make enough to pay Jesse and Seebs back for the bike, so expect some new buttons to show up in the store fairly soon. I just knew I couldn't wait another few months to get back on the road. For one thing, the Captain was turning spherical and his under-exercised antics were driving Seebs and me both batshit.
In other news, pineapple-orange juice has made me its bitch. Send help plz.
It was kind of weird seeing that bubblehead bleach-blonde who's on every news channel holding an oversized mic in person. She looked uncomfortable, maybe because it was bitch degrees out and everyone in the neighborhood was sitting on their front lawns like contented cows to watch her shuffle around gesturing at the techs.
In other news, I has new bike. This one is a me-bike, not a replacement for the Jesse-bike I was using until recently. It's fucking badass and glorious and has a basket for groceries. Seebs came up with some ingenious balsa shims to get the Springer to stay perfectly rigid on the slightly smaller seat-post, and after a few hours of tinkering, it fit perfectly.
End result: The Captain and I got to go on our first bike run in months. WOO!
He was out of shape but kept up fairly well. I had to take it easy myself, but we had a damned good time. Went to the dog park, then rode around town on our way back home. He's still drooling all over the floor and panting like he's dying, but that smile on his face is unmistakable.
The new bike is silver-blue and sized at 13.5 inches (apparently I am one of the Wee Folk). New helmet is blue and white. I will be wearing it religiously from now on. I also want to get a loud and blaring horn for just-in-case purposes.
Now I need to make enough to pay Jesse and Seebs back for the bike, so expect some new buttons to show up in the store fairly soon. I just knew I couldn't wait another few months to get back on the road. For one thing, the Captain was turning spherical and his under-exercised antics were driving Seebs and me both batshit.
In other news, pineapple-orange juice has made me its bitch. Send help plz.
April 3, 2008
Spring, Springer, Springest!
The Springer arrived yesterday. It took me the entire evening and the help of three roomies, a hammer and a pineapple flavored lollipop (yes, really) to install it on the bike.
In the end it would not fit on the seat tube part in any configuration that didn't end with my heel slamming into the S-tube, so I ended up moving it up to the seat post instead. It still wiggles back and forth a bit when the dog really pulls, but that bitch is bolted on like whoa and it's not coming off anytime soon.
After it was installed, I put the harness on the Captain and took him out for a past-midnight ride around the town. It was not a positive introduction. When I snapped the lead in place, he was so terrified of the alien technology that was pulling on him that he yanked the spring mechanism almost horizontal in a bid for escape. When that failed, he threw himself splay-limbed to the ground and beseeched me with huge dark eyes full of trauma and betrayal.
I started walking the bike, and this drove him into another panic. He struggled and skidded and flailed, all to no effect. Then I hopped on the bike and said "let's go!"
All of a sudden it clicked in his tiny doggy brain that we were about to go on BIKE RUN, and all animosity toward the Springer was forgotten. We rode through the town, past the dog park, across major intersections, past birds and ducks and all the other distractions by which a dog could be enchanted. His pulling sometimes necessitated correction in my steering, but it wasn't bad at all. We flew along with him insisting on a full gallop nearly the entire time.
It was great.
Today the temperature got all the way up to 51 f, so I threw the harness back on him and we went out for another run. A nice short run was the plan, only it got a little out of control:
I was good for a longer trip, but the Captain had the squats and was starting to fade, so we turned back after we reached the next town. 5.2 miles, like it was nothing.
A few times he did pull me pretty hard, but the spring mechanism slows down the wavering enough to correct for even that much if you're paying attention. The only times I felt at risk were when I was riding too close to the edge of the pavement when he pulled from where he was running on the grassy part of the shoulder. One strong pull from there, and the wheel would pop off the pavement and the bike would jar, and balance was threatened. I'll need to be careful of that.
Also, the harness that comes with the Springer is a cheap little strap of rough nylon that slides around during the ride and bunches up against his shoulders and neck. It's a friction sore waiting to happen and I need to replace it with a proper harness as soon as I have money.
Conclusion: The Springer is a fucking amazing invention, and I am absolutely happy with its performance. The Captain loves it. I took his leash off in the front yard and he sat on the porch until I had the bike locked up and his poo bags thrown away. No interest in running away whatsoever--he wanted water, dinner and sleep in that order, and screw the squirrel in the yard next door.
At present, my high-energy huntin' dawg is stretched out on my bed in what appears to be a state of coma. I don't expect to hear from him for at least six hours.
To do list: New harness for puppydog, padded handlebar covers, and some serious padded gloves. Also I need to ice my left wrist if I ever want to use it again. Currently it's so weak and numb I can barely lift my iPod. Typing is starting to become painful, so I'm gonna get away from the computer and stick it in a brace now.
Man, I missed biking.
In the end it would not fit on the seat tube part in any configuration that didn't end with my heel slamming into the S-tube, so I ended up moving it up to the seat post instead. It still wiggles back and forth a bit when the dog really pulls, but that bitch is bolted on like whoa and it's not coming off anytime soon.
After it was installed, I put the harness on the Captain and took him out for a past-midnight ride around the town. It was not a positive introduction. When I snapped the lead in place, he was so terrified of the alien technology that was pulling on him that he yanked the spring mechanism almost horizontal in a bid for escape. When that failed, he threw himself splay-limbed to the ground and beseeched me with huge dark eyes full of trauma and betrayal.
I started walking the bike, and this drove him into another panic. He struggled and skidded and flailed, all to no effect. Then I hopped on the bike and said "let's go!"
All of a sudden it clicked in his tiny doggy brain that we were about to go on BIKE RUN, and all animosity toward the Springer was forgotten. We rode through the town, past the dog park, across major intersections, past birds and ducks and all the other distractions by which a dog could be enchanted. His pulling sometimes necessitated correction in my steering, but it wasn't bad at all. We flew along with him insisting on a full gallop nearly the entire time.
It was great.
Today the temperature got all the way up to 51 f, so I threw the harness back on him and we went out for another run. A nice short run was the plan, only it got a little out of control:
I was good for a longer trip, but the Captain had the squats and was starting to fade, so we turned back after we reached the next town. 5.2 miles, like it was nothing.
A few times he did pull me pretty hard, but the spring mechanism slows down the wavering enough to correct for even that much if you're paying attention. The only times I felt at risk were when I was riding too close to the edge of the pavement when he pulled from where he was running on the grassy part of the shoulder. One strong pull from there, and the wheel would pop off the pavement and the bike would jar, and balance was threatened. I'll need to be careful of that.
Also, the harness that comes with the Springer is a cheap little strap of rough nylon that slides around during the ride and bunches up against his shoulders and neck. It's a friction sore waiting to happen and I need to replace it with a proper harness as soon as I have money.
Conclusion: The Springer is a fucking amazing invention, and I am absolutely happy with its performance. The Captain loves it. I took his leash off in the front yard and he sat on the porch until I had the bike locked up and his poo bags thrown away. No interest in running away whatsoever--he wanted water, dinner and sleep in that order, and screw the squirrel in the yard next door.
At present, my high-energy huntin' dawg is stretched out on my bed in what appears to be a state of coma. I don't expect to hear from him for at least six hours.
To do list: New harness for puppydog, padded handlebar covers, and some serious padded gloves. Also I need to ice my left wrist if I ever want to use it again. Currently it's so weak and numb I can barely lift my iPod. Typing is starting to become painful, so I'm gonna get away from the computer and stick it in a brace now.
Man, I missed biking.
November 5, 2007
Haunted Raffle Over!
The Haunted Sketchbook Raffle has ended!
I spent today moving. Drove up to St. Paul and packed what little remained of my stuff and the bathroom/kitchen supplies that hadn't been grabbed before. I even grabbed the thirteen dollar parmesan cheese Seebs loves to occasionally place spaghetti noodles beneath. It was one of the few foods from the fridge that could be saved.
We kind of abandoned everything in there during the move and the smell gives this fact away. There is a half-full gallon jug of milk that probably won't slosh if you shake it (even more terrifying: it might taste okay due to the power of the atom).
My favorite tupperware container was full of sliced cabbage that stank up the entire neighborhood when I dumped it out. I found the word CROATOAN carved into some suspiciously furry rotisserie chicken just before I shut the door and began crying hysterically on the kitchen floor. Adventures!
When I got back home, I stuck my hand down the side of the easy chair in the living room to see if my iPod had slipped into it... and pulled out my missing camera! The crazy thing is, I had checked there quite early in the search and found nothing. All the files are intact and everything still works. I had to break the news to the formerly missing camera that, in my grief, I had found another to love. She took it pretty well for a piece of sensitive photography equipment that's just spent four weeks lodged under somebody's ass.
The other night I walked to the gym, hooked my dog to the front door, and worked out to my little heart's content with no one around to bother me. It was a long long walk along a busy highway, but this was pretty late at night.
I got the Captain a Gentle Leader headcollar with the last of my money. He hates it like the fires of hades, but I've never had more compliant and docile behavior out of a dog.
Within five minutes of leaving the house with the Captain in his headcollar, he was my bitch. This after three months of yanking his leash and darting into traffic and generally ignoring my every attempt to make him walk nice. I tried everything--treats, reinforcement with praise, commands, tugs on the leash, getting a different leash with variable lengths.
I did the thing where you stop every time the dog tries to pull (to remove the reward and teach him that pulling is pointless). No dice. I would refuse to move until he stopped acting out, and move on only to have it happen again five seconds later, then again and again and again for the next thirty minutes.
I even put a choke chain on him. That sort of slowed him down a bit and stopped him dashing into the street, but he was still borking my wrists up by yanking on them every time we left the house. If he saw a squirrel or a bird, forget the chain, it'd be a nonstop tug of war the entire way home because he was set on going back.
The worst part was stubbornly walking along with the leash at a set length while he dangled at my side. Was the leash too short? No, he just preferred to choke himself every two seconds rather than walk with me. Now, I'm all for a battle of the wills (because I always win those), but I know futility when I see it. So, the headcollar. At 25 bucks it was kind of a pricey experiment, but I was pretty much out of options and I'd read great stuff about the results. And oh my fucking god, it worked like a charm.
When he's not attempting to slide across the countryside on his face to get the damn thing off, he is walking calmly by my side with a loose leash. He still hasn't accepted this new restraint on his lifestyle, so left to his own devices he tends to paw at it frantically and then slump to the floor in a fog of ennui so complete he may die at any moment. But I just laugh. Oh, how I laugh.
Best of all, he's mellower. He barely notices the cars and trucks that used to send him bolting. My wrists feel amazing because all it takes is one short, mild pull and the little furry son of a bitch is doing EXACTLY what he's supposed to do, and that boils down to good times for him, because dogs LIVE to please their pack leaders and he's getting the idea that his current behavior is precisely what I want out of him.
I'm the one with the thumbs, baby. Do not fuck with me.
I spent today moving. Drove up to St. Paul and packed what little remained of my stuff and the bathroom/kitchen supplies that hadn't been grabbed before. I even grabbed the thirteen dollar parmesan cheese Seebs loves to occasionally place spaghetti noodles beneath. It was one of the few foods from the fridge that could be saved.
We kind of abandoned everything in there during the move and the smell gives this fact away. There is a half-full gallon jug of milk that probably won't slosh if you shake it (even more terrifying: it might taste okay due to the power of the atom).
My favorite tupperware container was full of sliced cabbage that stank up the entire neighborhood when I dumped it out. I found the word CROATOAN carved into some suspiciously furry rotisserie chicken just before I shut the door and began crying hysterically on the kitchen floor. Adventures!
When I got back home, I stuck my hand down the side of the easy chair in the living room to see if my iPod had slipped into it... and pulled out my missing camera! The crazy thing is, I had checked there quite early in the search and found nothing. All the files are intact and everything still works. I had to break the news to the formerly missing camera that, in my grief, I had found another to love. She took it pretty well for a piece of sensitive photography equipment that's just spent four weeks lodged under somebody's ass.
The other night I walked to the gym, hooked my dog to the front door, and worked out to my little heart's content with no one around to bother me. It was a long long walk along a busy highway, but this was pretty late at night.
I got the Captain a Gentle Leader headcollar with the last of my money. He hates it like the fires of hades, but I've never had more compliant and docile behavior out of a dog.
Within five minutes of leaving the house with the Captain in his headcollar, he was my bitch. This after three months of yanking his leash and darting into traffic and generally ignoring my every attempt to make him walk nice. I tried everything--treats, reinforcement with praise, commands, tugs on the leash, getting a different leash with variable lengths.
I did the thing where you stop every time the dog tries to pull (to remove the reward and teach him that pulling is pointless). No dice. I would refuse to move until he stopped acting out, and move on only to have it happen again five seconds later, then again and again and again for the next thirty minutes.
I even put a choke chain on him. That sort of slowed him down a bit and stopped him dashing into the street, but he was still borking my wrists up by yanking on them every time we left the house. If he saw a squirrel or a bird, forget the chain, it'd be a nonstop tug of war the entire way home because he was set on going back.
The worst part was stubbornly walking along with the leash at a set length while he dangled at my side. Was the leash too short? No, he just preferred to choke himself every two seconds rather than walk with me. Now, I'm all for a battle of the wills (because I always win those), but I know futility when I see it. So, the headcollar. At 25 bucks it was kind of a pricey experiment, but I was pretty much out of options and I'd read great stuff about the results. And oh my fucking god, it worked like a charm.
When he's not attempting to slide across the countryside on his face to get the damn thing off, he is walking calmly by my side with a loose leash. He still hasn't accepted this new restraint on his lifestyle, so left to his own devices he tends to paw at it frantically and then slump to the floor in a fog of ennui so complete he may die at any moment. But I just laugh. Oh, how I laugh.
Best of all, he's mellower. He barely notices the cars and trucks that used to send him bolting. My wrists feel amazing because all it takes is one short, mild pull and the little furry son of a bitch is doing EXACTLY what he's supposed to do, and that boils down to good times for him, because dogs LIVE to please their pack leaders and he's getting the idea that his current behavior is precisely what I want out of him.
I'm the one with the thumbs, baby. Do not fuck with me.
October 24, 2007
Exorcism
Yesterday I got the bike out of the basement. I put it back together and wheeled it into the driveway, then obtained 1x poochito from the house. The idea was to get him nice and mellow with a walk and a hard play session at the dog park, then try him on the bike to see whether he'd enjoy running with me.
At first he didn't know what the fuck, and was shying away from the bike in that wary way dogs have, but as soon as I got on the bike and rolled a few feet, he figured out what I wanted and went right into jogging mode alongside. The leash I use is a 16 foot extendable deal, so I had plenty of room between the bike and the Captain and no slack leash to get tangled up. Lots of extra line in case I ever want to stop suddenly without breaking his neck or yanking my ass off the bike.
I didn't go full-speed, since I had to watch the road and the dog both in case of obstacles. Mostly I had enough warning when he decided to make a sudden stop or detour to slow the bike down and tug him back into line, and I was able to speed up some more.
Before I knew it, he was flying down the road (mostly on the verge, for the sake of his feets) with his jaws sprung wide and his tongue lolling out and bouncing around like crazy. By the time we got back, he was panting and shiny-eyed. The whole rest of the day, he was a docile and obedient little citizen who wanted to sleep more than anything in the world.
So today I thought, let's step it up a bit. Took him out on the bike first thing for a longer run, then back home for water, then we rode to the dog park. There were no dogs, so after a bit of lounging in the sun, I got back on the bike and we went around Northfield a bit. By the end, he was definitely losing his edge, so the ride home was pretty sedate. Immediately after taking off his leash, he fell over with his head resting on my leg, eyes half-lidded, tongue poking out a bit. Then back upstairs for the rest of his din dins and a nice long hibernation.
I'm trying to get him in the habit of spending a few hours of quiet time in his kennel alone each day after exercising, in case I get a job or ever want to, you know, have a social life. Hah.
Funny thing: He's learned to run upstairs, into the spare room, and tuck himself into his crate when I say "dinner." He'll wait in there quietly until I show up to feed him. I taught him "go to your room" but this other thing is his own innovation. He also has figured out that if you tell him to 'sit' and have a carrot in your hands, he should also sit up and beg without being asked. That dog is insane for carrots.
Befoer I start the next pages, I'm making up for lost time on the My Dog Rocks blogging front. Next up: photo post. Big one. 56k sorrow!
Let's see...what else.
There's a farmer's market here through the end of the month. It's only a few blocks away. Also, the air here usually smells like warm toasted cereal, though the flavor varies depending on what kind of cereal it is. I'm told Fridays are cocoa-puff-days. It is amazing.
I found a place by the river where they've dumped quarried stone to help with erosion. Digging around in the rockpile yielded SO many amazing crystal specimens. I brought home the smaller ones, though there's a boulder I need to drive over for. Unless I want to prove Jesse right in his prediction that I'll soon have nowhere to sleep for rocks in my room, I may need to think about adding a rock saw to my equipment.
Other than that, all is unpacking and photography.
At first he didn't know what the fuck, and was shying away from the bike in that wary way dogs have, but as soon as I got on the bike and rolled a few feet, he figured out what I wanted and went right into jogging mode alongside. The leash I use is a 16 foot extendable deal, so I had plenty of room between the bike and the Captain and no slack leash to get tangled up. Lots of extra line in case I ever want to stop suddenly without breaking his neck or yanking my ass off the bike.
I didn't go full-speed, since I had to watch the road and the dog both in case of obstacles. Mostly I had enough warning when he decided to make a sudden stop or detour to slow the bike down and tug him back into line, and I was able to speed up some more.
Before I knew it, he was flying down the road (mostly on the verge, for the sake of his feets) with his jaws sprung wide and his tongue lolling out and bouncing around like crazy. By the time we got back, he was panting and shiny-eyed. The whole rest of the day, he was a docile and obedient little citizen who wanted to sleep more than anything in the world.
So today I thought, let's step it up a bit. Took him out on the bike first thing for a longer run, then back home for water, then we rode to the dog park. There were no dogs, so after a bit of lounging in the sun, I got back on the bike and we went around Northfield a bit. By the end, he was definitely losing his edge, so the ride home was pretty sedate. Immediately after taking off his leash, he fell over with his head resting on my leg, eyes half-lidded, tongue poking out a bit. Then back upstairs for the rest of his din dins and a nice long hibernation.
I'm trying to get him in the habit of spending a few hours of quiet time in his kennel alone each day after exercising, in case I get a job or ever want to, you know, have a social life. Hah.
Funny thing: He's learned to run upstairs, into the spare room, and tuck himself into his crate when I say "dinner." He'll wait in there quietly until I show up to feed him. I taught him "go to your room" but this other thing is his own innovation. He also has figured out that if you tell him to 'sit' and have a carrot in your hands, he should also sit up and beg without being asked. That dog is insane for carrots.
Befoer I start the next pages, I'm making up for lost time on the My Dog Rocks blogging front. Next up: photo post. Big one. 56k sorrow!
Let's see...what else.
There's a farmer's market here through the end of the month. It's only a few blocks away. Also, the air here usually smells like warm toasted cereal, though the flavor varies depending on what kind of cereal it is. I'm told Fridays are cocoa-puff-days. It is amazing.
I found a place by the river where they've dumped quarried stone to help with erosion. Digging around in the rockpile yielded SO many amazing crystal specimens. I brought home the smaller ones, though there's a boulder I need to drive over for. Unless I want to prove Jesse right in his prediction that I'll soon have nowhere to sleep for rocks in my room, I may need to think about adding a rock saw to my equipment.
Other than that, all is unpacking and photography.
September 8, 2007
I AM HENRY ROLLINS
I WIN, MOTHERFUCKERS: 105.76 MILES!
Reached my goal today while helping the roomies load and unload a moving van full of 90-something boxes (which felt like they were full of rocks, but it was really just the house library) into the Northfield place. We're renting a basement room to move our stuff into while the current owners are in the process of moving out.
Unloading involved some crazy stairs. I spent a lot of the unloading process in the van, lifting 40 pound boxes and carrying them over to the edge of the van to stack up for people to carry to the edge of the stairs for whoever was down there to carry down to the storage room.
I spent some time being the one who runs up and down the stairs, which was probably the most tiring part. I also transported two full-size bookshelves on my back from the van to the storage area, which was awkward but not too taxing.
When I got home, I used an activity-to-mileage conversion chart to total up all the various types of work, and found I'd done about 7.6 miles of activity, most of it heavy lifting, stairs and just plain walking.
Working out and lifting free weights have significantly improved my stamina. I survived hauling the boxes (minus one minor dehydration/carbohydrate crashing incident) with no muscles torn, and in truth feel kind of energized and mellow. I would get worn out, rest a little, and then go back for more without feeling like I was going to die.
I did 100 miles in 64 days and it was kind of easy. I'll need to step up my game a notch for the next goal, starting tomorrow.
Reached my goal today while helping the roomies load and unload a moving van full of 90-something boxes (which felt like they were full of rocks, but it was really just the house library) into the Northfield place. We're renting a basement room to move our stuff into while the current owners are in the process of moving out.
Unloading involved some crazy stairs. I spent a lot of the unloading process in the van, lifting 40 pound boxes and carrying them over to the edge of the van to stack up for people to carry to the edge of the stairs for whoever was down there to carry down to the storage room.
I spent some time being the one who runs up and down the stairs, which was probably the most tiring part. I also transported two full-size bookshelves on my back from the van to the storage area, which was awkward but not too taxing.
When I got home, I used an activity-to-mileage conversion chart to total up all the various types of work, and found I'd done about 7.6 miles of activity, most of it heavy lifting, stairs and just plain walking.
Working out and lifting free weights have significantly improved my stamina. I survived hauling the boxes (minus one minor dehydration/carbohydrate crashing incident) with no muscles torn, and in truth feel kind of energized and mellow. I would get worn out, rest a little, and then go back for more without feeling like I was going to die.
I did 100 miles in 64 days and it was kind of easy. I'll need to step up my game a notch for the next goal, starting tomorrow.
Almost Got My Bragging Rights
Argh argh!!!
I just counted again, and I'm at 98 freaking miles!
One more walk with the Captain will finally put me over the 100 mark--it's so close I can TASTE it. If tomorrow goes well, I'll have traversed one hundred miles by walking/biking/jogging/skiing in just 64 days.
I originally started counting the miles because of my gym's summer '100 miles in 100 days' challenge, which started in June and just ended. I only found out about it on July 7, and didn't think I'd ever be able to log that many hours. And then I got a dog....
Just think--if I'd started the challenge with everybody else, I would have won an ugly tote bag or something. I would have been one of the few competitors who made their goal. Hell, if I'd only started a month late, I would have still made it. Ah well. Now that I can't get the mad props and tote bag, I'm just doing it for ME, and that makes it somehow more fulfilling anyway.
My obsessive need to collect and list things has got me plotting out my trips on Google Earth so I can account for the distance travelled. I use satellite maps to dream up cool new routes to walk. I'm exploring the city for the first time (with a hammer in one pocket to ward off loose dogs, and a pocket knife in the other for any two-legged strays).
Tonight I jogged a quarter of a mile alongside my dog while we were out. Okay, so that may not seem like very far, but I haven't dared to run much since I grew man-tits and started getting teased about the bouncing. I also have asthma that kicks in when I exercise and poorly-repaired hernias in both calves that still like to pop up and cause intense burning when the muscles are flexed there. (I recently noticed from a photograph of Kyle Gass of Tenacious D that he has them in the exact same places. Torment twinsies!)
So being able to go even a quarter mile without using my inhaler, NOT getting winded or struck by severe pain in the process, is a pretty big thing for me. A hundred miles of non-essential exercise in two months is fucking astronomical.
I want to go out and finish those last two miles off right now, but it's 6AM and the mosquitoes are out, and I really need to sleep. I guess I should just do like I do at the gym and quit before I'm tired, so I'll be more eager to return the next time.
I almost hate that we're leaving St. Paul, now that I know all the little places to visit and have favorite walking routes and everything. It just figures I'd only start to appreciate the North End before moving out of it forever. I think I'll miss the adrenaline rush of danger that hits me when a dog comes running at me in a froth of anger and gets pulled up at the last second by a previously-unseen tether.
Hahah. Sure I will.
PS - I did end up getting some lightning on video. I'll upload later. I also still need to finish splicing together the clips from the BIG storm we had a few weeks ago, when I went and laid down in the baseball field and just held the camera toward the sky for an hour or so.
There's a lot of video to comb through and lightning of varying quality every two seconds, so it's taking me a while to crop down the footage to make a badass light show. I think I'll need to put the resulting video to the East Village Opera Company's "Overture Redux". That song is perfect for electrical storms.
I just counted again, and I'm at 98 freaking miles!
One more walk with the Captain will finally put me over the 100 mark--it's so close I can TASTE it. If tomorrow goes well, I'll have traversed one hundred miles by walking/biking/jogging/skiing in just 64 days.
I originally started counting the miles because of my gym's summer '100 miles in 100 days' challenge, which started in June and just ended. I only found out about it on July 7, and didn't think I'd ever be able to log that many hours. And then I got a dog....
Just think--if I'd started the challenge with everybody else, I would have won an ugly tote bag or something. I would have been one of the few competitors who made their goal. Hell, if I'd only started a month late, I would have still made it. Ah well. Now that I can't get the mad props and tote bag, I'm just doing it for ME, and that makes it somehow more fulfilling anyway.
My obsessive need to collect and list things has got me plotting out my trips on Google Earth so I can account for the distance travelled. I use satellite maps to dream up cool new routes to walk. I'm exploring the city for the first time (with a hammer in one pocket to ward off loose dogs, and a pocket knife in the other for any two-legged strays).
Tonight I jogged a quarter of a mile alongside my dog while we were out. Okay, so that may not seem like very far, but I haven't dared to run much since I grew man-tits and started getting teased about the bouncing. I also have asthma that kicks in when I exercise and poorly-repaired hernias in both calves that still like to pop up and cause intense burning when the muscles are flexed there. (I recently noticed from a photograph of Kyle Gass of Tenacious D that he has them in the exact same places. Torment twinsies!)
So being able to go even a quarter mile without using my inhaler, NOT getting winded or struck by severe pain in the process, is a pretty big thing for me. A hundred miles of non-essential exercise in two months is fucking astronomical.
I want to go out and finish those last two miles off right now, but it's 6AM and the mosquitoes are out, and I really need to sleep. I guess I should just do like I do at the gym and quit before I'm tired, so I'll be more eager to return the next time.
I almost hate that we're leaving St. Paul, now that I know all the little places to visit and have favorite walking routes and everything. It just figures I'd only start to appreciate the North End before moving out of it forever. I think I'll miss the adrenaline rush of danger that hits me when a dog comes running at me in a froth of anger and gets pulled up at the last second by a previously-unseen tether.
Hahah. Sure I will.
PS - I did end up getting some lightning on video. I'll upload later. I also still need to finish splicing together the clips from the BIG storm we had a few weeks ago, when I went and laid down in the baseball field and just held the camera toward the sky for an hour or so.
There's a lot of video to comb through and lightning of varying quality every two seconds, so it's taking me a while to crop down the footage to make a badass light show. I think I'll need to put the resulting video to the East Village Opera Company's "Overture Redux". That song is perfect for electrical storms.
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