Pretty good week. Uneventful from a fitness point of view. Though the reports of my running success were premature – the next day, my right hip punished me for my hubris. I would love to be running sooner than later, (a) because it’s so efficient; and (b) because I want to do a real triathlon without any of this namby-pamby walking bullshit. But I’m getting plenty of cardio and muscular work in without running, so I suppose I will just have to accept my body’s limitations for the time being. I’m in it for the long haul and would hate to have an injury during the remainder of my time here.
Today was one of those “What day is it?” days. As a stayover (or townie or long-timer or lifer, depending on which you prefer), I no longer adhere to the printed schedule for my group (for those of you who are curious, I’m in the blue group, vs. green or red; all that means is that not all of us can fit in the gym or the aerobics room, so they stagger us). Instead, I choose the sequence of my classes, taking all the same classes but in whatever order I want. Today that came back to bite me in my hopefully increasingly petite ass. So here was the drill. I thought I had a 1:30 appointment with Kwinten, a counselor here. Turns out it was for 12:30. I wore my swimsuit under my clothes so I could go straight into the 2:30 pool class. What with the rush to start the appointment with Kwinten earlier than I’d thought, I ended up getting out of the meeting with him at 2:00. So I decided to get in the pool early. I didn’t have my goggles with me, so couldn’t do any major swimming. Hoe-dee-doe-doe, I’m hanging out in the pool. Hanging out, hanging out. Nobody else is coming into the pool for pool class. But there’s always pool class at 2:30! Finally, at about 2:32, one of the trainers says, “Oh, on Thursdays, there’s no pool class at 2:30 or 3:30.” But I’m already wet! And in the pool! And it’s 2:32, so there’s no way I can get dried and changed and suited up in time to get anything out of the Treading or Ball . . . what’s that Ball class called? can’t remember . . . So there goes one class slot obliterated. So I go to Treading at 3:30, and then plan to do the Ball class at 4:30 – only for half an hour, because I have a chiropractic appointment for that bum hip. Somehow I end up losing track of the minutes and walk into the Ball class . . . oh, wait, what’s that I see? It’s a stretch class, not a ball class, and I already took stretch class at 11:15. And then I’m too late to get a strap, so I’m ill-equipped for stretch. It was just one of those days – I couldn’t get anything involving scheduling right.
Yesterday in kick-boxing I was thinking to myself, “How annoying – the teacher is making the class so much easier than it was in the beginning. Why isn’t she working us out like she used to? I’m not even getting a good aerobic workout. Why’s she going easy on all these newbies when she was so hard on us?” And then it hit me – the class is the same; it’s my fitness level that’s gone up. Pretty cool.
Tomorrow is Camelback again. I love that hike. Again, one that’s substantially easier than the first time around. Today I did Third Ravine, one of my favorites, and I’m definitely at the front of the moderate-intermediate group these days. I suppose I should transition to fast-intermediate next week, but part of me is . . . lazy! They go so damn fast! I don’t think I’ll get up to advanced before I leave, but one never knows. Even some of the hiking guides can’t do advanced – we’re talking like 16-minute miles over steep and rugged terrain, without stopping. The way I was raised, we stopped on hikes to look at the pretty scenery! Note to others who come after me: If you want a break but you know the guides will push you to continue, just say you want to take a picture.
Looking forward to this weekend. I was going to go with a group to Las Vegas to see Cher on Saturday night, but that’s turned into what we at Knock Knock call a klöosterföoken and is no longer a go. However, I have psychotherapeutic homework to do (I won’t even bother to explain – suffice it to say that I need to script a dialogue between my good and bad selves, aka my ego and my id) and psychotherapeutic reading to (suffice it to say that this consists of a book) and other delightful things, so I am secretly grateful to have my Saturday back. And it was going to be a lot of driving, what with the fact that I am going to the Best Friends Animal Sanctuary on Sunday with my friend Kate. I’m really excited about this – it’s an amazing place, I believe the largest one in the U.S. or some such. It’s 33,000 acres and home to some 1,700 animals at a time, from large to small, domestic to exotic. It’s also home to a TV show on the National Geographic channel called Dogtown, which I had neither seen nor hear of before. We’ll be touring in the morning then having a vegan lunch (natch) then volunteering in the afternoon. I’ll be sure to take lots of pictures and report back in detail.
Speaking of Kate and of taking picture breaks, here she and I are at the top of Third Ravine.
Speaking of rescued animals, here's a gratuitous shot of Paco and Maisie, taken lovingly by the most amazing house- and dogsitter in the world, Adrienne. My apologies for the head crane - I can't get it to go vertical.
Over and out, all y’all.