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(Geocities is being very flaky and won't let me edit this entry--so things are looking very weird on this page...sorry!)

BEING REALISTIC

24 July 2002

The good news: I've lost another 2.8 lbs, bringing the grand total to 71.4 lost. Holy shit. Look at that. That's SEVENTY pounds and then some. How in the world did I carry all that weight around for all those years? Think about it. I stagger in the house carrying a jug of water for our water cooler--and that weighs 25 lbs.

Rock salt that I hate to have to carry (and thank goodness haven't in several years) comes in 40 lb bags.

I've hefted 25 lb sacks of dog food that filled the back seat of the car.

Suddenly the weight of things has become very important to me. "I used to carry around the equivalent of TWO of those!"

I'm amazed that I was able to get up out of a chair at all. No wonder I felt like I was going to die when we walked across London.

But it's gone. Gone, I tell you...gone!!!

God and my willpower willing, it will stay gone.

I didn't get up to the club this morning, because of all the work I had to do last night (yes, I got the review written; no, I didn't find Dr. G's paper--fortunately it wasn't the disaster that I thought it would be). When I finally went to sleep, I had the choice of sleeping 3 hours and then exercising, or sleeping 4 hours. It wasn't a difficult decision to make!

But I was feeling guilty about it. I'd missed, now, two days in a row. Monday morning, I was driving Walt to the airport during the hour I would normally be at the club, and then this morning I was sleeping.

So, when I got home from work, and realized that the weather, for once, was not super hot and it was actually quite pleasant, I decided to go for a bike ride. Not a huge bike ride, but 5 miles, which was just about right. I kept the pace steady for 30 minutes, so I could say that I did "moderate exercise" for 30 minutes.

I did my usual greenbelt trip, but this time did it backwards, which means I went up the opposite side of the dreaded overpass (a longer uphill, but not a problem--I'm dreading the overpass less and less these days). It was kind of fun experiencing the trail at a different time of day. No early morning joggers or dog walkers (but some passed out dogs lying in the grass in the warm sun). No cheery "good morning people"...in fact, no people at all. It was dinner time and there were the smells of dinner cooking from the houses as I passed them by. The ciccadas were humming--or whatever it is that ciccadas do. A lazy afternoon.

 As I rode, I was thinking about this whole biking thing. After reading the reports by Haggi, Secra, and Jenipurr about the big ride in Healdsburg this past weekend, I was so glad that I'd decided not to try it. 37 miles is within my capabilities. 37 miles of rolling hills is not.

I began to think about what I hope to accomplish with all this biking. I often feel frustrated with myself that I can't go farther, higher, faster. I feel like a drag on Haggie when we go biking because I know she has far surpassed me in her biking abilities. I'm still worried about getting up the dreaded overpass.

Then I thought about where I was when Olivia said "why don't we get a couple of bikes and go riding on the weekends?" She had to drag me into bike shops and I had all the enthusiasm that I did when shopping for clothes to enter the convent, an act I knew I did not want to do but didn't know how to get out of.

But once I'd made it past those first couple of "I bought this damn thing I'd better learn how to ride it" experiences, I discovered that I didn't hate it. In fact, I was even liking it. The first day we went biking and I realized I'd covered four whole miles without dying was the breakthrough. I could really do this. It was the first athletic thing I'd ever done in my entire life that I didn't hate. That I felt comfortable doing. That I actually enjoyed doing.

Haggie is young enough to be my daughter. So is Terri, if I'd started having babies early. David has been biking since he could walk. I'm nearly sixty years old. No wonder I'm having a difficult time keeping up with the kids. I've come a long way since February--375 miles, in fact. That's pretty good for someone whose most athletic thing to date had been walking around the San Diego zoo.

So I'm not going to sweat it any more. I'm going to do what I can and not feel guilty that I'm not ready to do a century ride, that I'm not doing better over hills (yet). I've come so far that riding 25 miles--of flat roads--seems like nothing. That's tremendous progress in just a few months.

I'm just going to keep rolling along at my own pace and watching the other guys do their sprints and be happy that I am making progress, just not quite as fast as I might have made it 30 years ago.

Quote of the Day

There is no more creative force in the world than a menopausal woman with zest.

-Margaret Mead

Picture of the Day

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Remembering where I was...

One Year Ago
Senior Moments
My aunt is going through her first death right now. The death of that keen mind, the sharp wit. The light is going out of her eyes. Her body is doing all right and who knows how many years of actual physical life she has left.

Two Years Ago
Ouch!
I sure hope I don't have to pee a lot
on the drive home....


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Pounds Lost:  71.4
(this figure is updated on Tuesdays)

On the Odometer:  379.7


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Created 7/23/02