just a few odds and ends, since i haven't updated this thing since july.
when my kids do something bad, stupid, or impulsive, or some combination of the three, i sometimes ask them, "do you think that was a good idea or a bad idea?" my hope is that them thinking about it for a second will carry more weight than if i just put them in the cage and jab at them with the red hot poker. but my kids aren't the point of this one.
i used to do interval training on the treadmill quite a bit. that's where you alternate short periods of time between low speeds and increasingly higher speeds. usually by the end, i'm doing 30 or 45 second bursts of 11.0 mph. like i said, i used to do this probably once a week.
however, i bought a mountain bike a few months ago and lately that's all i've been doing on cardio days. it's good exercise and i can bike much longer than i can run. if you didn't know already, pushing a bike up a hill and sprinting use your leg muscles in entirely different ways. one might think that if a person were to make a return to the interval stuff, that person might dip their toes in the water a bit before diving in the deep end.
that person would not be me. because i am an idiot, do you see?
so i ran my 30 minute interval set on monday evening and i knew i was in trouble within 10 minutes of finishing. just walking down the stairs to get back to the locker room made my legs feel like santa's belly. then after a 15 minute car ride home, i was already sore - never a good sign.
here were are two days later and let's just say that things like, you know, fucking moving, are not in my top 887 things to do right now. i whimper like a newborn pup when i have to walk down stairs (oddly, going up doesn't hurt as much) and feel like i'm being pulled apart on the rack when i attempt to stretch my quads out.
call it reminder number 63 in a never-ending series of that game called, "you're not young anymore". and also, NOT a good idea.
and speaking of old, i had my 20 year high school reunion last weekend. i was solo on friday night, and about an hour from home, so i had to keep my mental facilities in order. before the event, i walked around a bit inside my old high school, which felt odd, and even drove past various places/houses i hadn't seen in 15 or so years. it was a nice little tour of my younger days.
then i met up with my former classmates, had a great time and caught up with some people i hadn't seen in a long time.
saturday on the other hand, my wife was my designated driver. i interpreted this as a dare to have my liver stand up and say, "motherfucker say what?", which i did. i started drinking doubles, or more accurately, triples, within 10 minutes of being at the nice country club where the event was held. just a few generous tips to the bartender and i was set for the night.
i know where you think this is going, and no, i did not heave at the reunion. but after my demonstration of how to kill two full drinks in 3o seconds after the closing time lights went up, i was certainly in no mood to perform any sort of precise movement involving motor skills. my awesome wife got us home and i showered and went to bed. and when i say i showered, i mean i sat on the shower floor for half an hour.
as this particular event didn't go off the rails until the tail end, i didn't do anything too stupid or offensive, but either way, it's probably for the best that i don't usually have a designated driver.
yay class of 1992!