I missed my workout last night. HOWEVER, I gave the house a much needed cleaning (well, the main parts anyway) and I think I burned some calories in the process. If anything, I worked up a long-awaited bowel movement, and let me tell you, it paid off! This morning I stepped on the scale and 148.5!! Thank you, Jesus! Because I thought I was going to have to spend the rest of my days in large flower-printed mumus, or at the very least, elastic-waisted denim.
The unfortunate thing about choosing to clean one’s home instead of going to the gym is that a strength training session has been missed. So I’ll only have two in for the week. I have come to terms with this, and I’ll get over it as long as I can still lift the weak-ass 20 pounds when I return to the nautilus machines on Saturday. As for today, my goal is to run the Couch 2 5K program and then do AT LEAST 30 minutes on the elliptical, but I’m shooting for more. I’m trying to work my way up to an hour. Last time my ipod died and my toes went numb, and I don’t care what you say, no one can work under such conditions.
Last night I went to this holistic pet food store to buy Little some new cat food. I’m trying something different with her diet, and this was the nearest store to carry the food I was looking for. The man behind the counter was clearly a serial killer. First of all, the name of the store is, “Birds-N-Stuff”. What Stuff? Shackles and chains? Whips and canes (I totally didn’t mean to rhyme there…)? I approached the counter to ask the man if he carried wheat grass, and he walked around the counter towards me without looking at me. I backed away cautiously and tried not to look like I was plotting my escape.
(Sidenote: He was dressed in head to toe camouflage with a dirty t-shirt underneath his jacket with a bird painted on it. His hair was gnarled and long, pulled back in a messy ponytail, and he wore a trucker hat pulled low over his face. When the birds started talking and whistling, he started having a conversation with them. Now I’m not one for stereotypes, but I just watched this waste-of-ninety-minutes-of-my-life movie with Kate Beckinsale and Luke Wilson, Vacancy, where the hotel owner is a nutjob who tries to kill them. This guy had this same “quality” about him, that’s all. And if I was fighting for my life right now, that movie would have been my saving grace…Pssst! I would be hiding in the ceiling in case you ever need to come looking for me.)
The end of this little story is uneventful, except to say that the store didn’t sell wheat grass and he didn’t murder me. But they should really put it on their inventory and I think he wanted to. But the birds…they would have talked under all the pressure, I bet.