Posts Tagged ‘entertainment’

Imagine, if you will, alarm clock number one blares loudly from across the room at 4:30a.m. (yes, 4:30a.m. – we’ll discuss my inability to adhere to the self-imposed discipline of time management in another post) – anyways –

Alarm clock number one blared loudly from across the room at 4:30a.m.. It’s about six feet from the space where I continually dent my mattress (I bought one of those nosupposedtodent mattresses about six months before I had my weight loss surgery – dented it in three – and voided the warranty at the same time because I exceeded the weight allotment). I flipped the comforter off and heard something hit the floor. It sounded like a small bag of fish tank rocks plopped on a counter.

But before my brain could register something hit the floor, I promptly stepped in that:

trailmixAt least it wasn’t ice cream.

Everyday Sneakers. The front of the sneaker bends more than the gym sneaker, but the arch is solid as you can see.

It was in the high 50’s when I went to do my workout this morning – nice and brisk! I grabbed my hoodie, stuffed my Jaybirds in my ears and off to my gym park I went. The ground was pretty damp from the rain last night – but I didn’t have anything planned which would require me getting on the ground.

Or so I thought.

Right in the middle of step-ups, my left foot slid right out from underneath me on a rail road tie. One 10lb dumbbell flew a good five feet into the play area, the other right behind my head as I landed on the ground. No. Correction. As I landed in a nice soppy, slippery pile of leaves and mud. I hedged around the emotion of do I or don’t I allow myself to become completely embarrassed (given I just splattered myself in perfect view of the condos which have big windows that face the park). Then I saw someone who had been peering through their blinds hike them up to watch what I can only assume what my next display of falling on my ass might look like. Then I realized, THEY’RE in their house, I need a banner to hang over the fence:

It’s great to watch, it’s funner to do it!

Here’s the link to the WOD: http://spfitdet.wordpress.com/2013/08/13/workout-of-the-day-tuesday-tip/

Only Your Best. No Excuses. Never Quit.

Only Your Best. No Excuses. Never Quit.

I do not get how long distance runners can handle the humidity outdoors. I am all about (insert dramatic air-circle pattern here) AC.

Tonight’s workout consisted of not one, not two, but three (yes…three) treadmills. The first one had touchy/feely issues (kind of like my ex-husband…). I had to poke the icons in just the right places in order to make it to the next screen (rumor has it this could lead one to a new level in Candy Crush Saga…or straight into a bad joke). When the program finally started and the belt began to move, it was slooooooow. I was puzzled because it was set to start at 3.7. I tried to adjust the speed. The display wouldn’t respond. I tried to pause the machine, the display got stuck on pause and wouldn’t resume when I poked it do so. I had to wait for it to time out.

Because I’m incredibly stubborn determined, I went through all that up there a second time. And again the belt moved super slow, set at 3.7. I was totally puzzled. Another minute or two went by and I figured it out:

Kilometers. Seriously. Matchbox cars in the hands of three-year-old boys move faster.

Finally I’m on my way, the machine is going. I walked a quarter mile, bumped the speed and ran a quarter mile. Wash, rinse, repeat. BUT…(you knew it was comin’) – a message popped up on the display with “User cannot be detected, press “OK” to continue”. I’m RUNNING! Try to poke the icon when you’re zippin’ along at five miles an hour. After the third pop up, I moved to the next machine.

There are seven or eight treadmills in the gym I go to (it’s small), and they were all filled. There was a gal to my left, a tall guy on my right (the display worked for HIM) – and we were all into doing our thing when BOOM! Power cuts off. Our three treadmills just abruptly stopped. No slow down. No “Danger Will Robinson! Danger!” signpost/popup. Just. Stopped. Period.

I almost fell off. I don’t know where the little gal to the left went, I suspect she flew off her machine. The guy to my right says, “Your machine stop?” Really?? He had a big white pair of Dr. Dre Beats headphones on and I swear: Princess Lea came to mind.

That led to my third and final treadmill of the evening. 5.0 miles in a little over an hour. On my way out I got onto the Leg Raise Dip thingy and did 25legraisedipknee raises (on the floor they’d be crunches). I was fairly impressed…even if I could only do five at a time with a 30 second suffocation-preventative break in between.

 

I gave some serious thought early last week to cancel an invite I received for a weekend girls-get-away 244 miles north of my little space in Detroit. Part of the thought was tied into my current economic situation: I left a job several weeks ago I held for four years under the stupid belief I was part of something great. If great meant another four years as a life-sized mud mat for Napoleon, his pet rat, and the quiet guy with the Star Wars lunch box – then it would have been awesome!

(Insert hoarking hairball sound here)

The other part of the thought was tied into my date of birth. It fell over the weekend, and I mulled around the idea how I could have spent 72 hours in a fetal position on the floor with my Birthday Blanket of Death, mourning the the end of my second year of the fourth decade of my existence.

So up north with the girls I went!

There was an art fair on the beach off of Lake Huron. I took my digital camera with the hope I would find a cool memory to capture forever (and not buy stuff I didn’t need), and stumbled upon a few young people with skateboards.

My digital camera is the only piece of tech I own I know nothing about (my friends can close their mouths now). I am not a photographer. I know nothing about lighting, or lenses, or picture driven software. I do like old stuff, buildings, clean lines (i.e. piers), I did not expect to like the idea of capturing a body in motion.

tyler.rampI became incredibly frustrated with my camera because it is not an SLR device, so although it will snap images while the button is held down, there is a delay between frames of not quite a second. Still, I spent about half an hour in an attempt to get that perfect shot – which is how I met Tyler.  A very determined young man. He skated all over the place, attempted jumps, tricks and a few other things I know not the names of. Tyler was showing off – but he wasn’t competitively cocky like some boys (and most adult males) can be – he genuinely wanted to be great. He would say, “Hold on…I can do this…” an if he wouldn’t hit his mark, he’d give it another shot. Tyler concentrated on every move he made, and had a contagious smile.

Tyler

I had a great weekend, which became greater after I met Tyler and his skateboard.

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I went with Bestie last night with L-Act and D-Tek to the castle of the Pastry King. They needed to check on a garden, Pastry King was visiting another realm, I needed to pick Bestie’s brain.

Any amount of time spent in the vicinity of teenagers who get along like brother and sister and not like dueling squires, definitely bound to be interesting. As the chariot rattled down the road of death (seriously…I bet an entire family was swallowed alive in their chariot by the craters chiseled in that road!), L-Act ended a sentence with: “…I can act gay.”

I promptly informed him he was in error. He replied, “I can too act gay.” Bestie and I both said, “You SO cannot act gay.”

The next few comments left us a in massive fit of laughter and Bestie overshot the entrance to the castle by a good 200 feet.

IMG_1077After we got wet and dirty dug holes and planted stuff, L-Act and D-Tek took care of a few chores in the castle. I was overwhelmed by MOC syndrome (Mud on Car)…”OMG Muddy” appeared out of nowhere on the rear door. I admitted to the deed…sort of…

Best part of the night was after we left the castle of the Pastry King. Bestie asked D-Tek about a place in town and if they had deserts. The next five minutes were filled with D-Tek’s tale of sugary sweetness, she had the same glee in her voice when the Pastry King speaks such wonders. She is her fathers daughter.

After a chai frappuccino, a mocha frappuccino with no coffee, a lemon pop, triple venti carmel frappuccino and a decaf (really???), L-Act popped out the playlist. We spent the next 30 minutes singing badly and laughing loudly (with tears). Bestie overshot the turn to take D-Tek to her palace because we were laughing so hard. Closer we got to D-Tek’s palace, the harder we laughed. Then the snorting. Then the laughter turned to squeals (that was me)….then Bestie shut us down for fear of what D-Tek’s mom would think (you know, that we were all nuts).

This has nothing to do with exercise (unless you want to count the 40lb bags of potting soil I helped drag around and four holes I dug). I’m disgustingly happy, and having so much fun just being alive.

Love and Other Drugs

Posted: April 23, 2012 by sneakerporndiaries in Friends, Sneaker Porn Diaries, Spring, Uncategorized
Tags: , ,

I love movies. I think anyone who knows me knows this eensy weensy fact. Period pieces (drool, drool), true stories, movies that go boom, techy-type flicks (drool), a romance or two, a couple of vampires, several zombie killers and a handful of documentaries (relatively recent exploration). I have a few TV shows saved on Netflix and Hulu – cop shows are a constant theme (this actually falls in line with my e-library). That aside, my TV queues closely resemble my movie habits.

Love & Other DrugsHowever, I typically do not do comedies. Just not my thing. Apparently I’m the only person in my world who hasn’t seen The Hangover (I experienced enough in my past) or Bridesmaids. Sometimes the cast will garner my interest (The Devil Wears Prada was great, Bridewars). So after I had been asked several times if I had seen “Love and Other Drugs” I figured I’d give it a shot. The previews were pretty funny. I like Jake Gyllenhaal and Anne Hathaway. I put it on my Netflix list, and their rating thingamob said I’d give it almost 4 stars out of 5 (pretty typical)

I should have read more about the film. Not only was it a big disappointment, the dialog left much to be desired. The story line would have been great if the director wasn’t so obsessed with the constant gratuitous display of Hathaway’s breasts and Gyllenhaal’s naked backside. It was overindulgent and way more explicit than it needed to be. After the first 30 or so minutes I turned the DVD player off and shoved the disc back into its mailer.

I’d rather watch Mila Jojovich hack up zombies for two hours.

Oh wait…been there, done that.