Habits – freckled crab

My Countdown

I had a countdown going on for a minute there. It was for my vacation, in case you were curious. I had all kinds of plans for the blog countdown – a quick post daily, photos of the dogs every day so then I could make a cute video. Whole lotta nope.

I can think of two schools of thought to that – either I’m putting too much pressure on myself to do something that is a hobby, OR, stop being a lazy, procrastinating asshole. You can probably tell I agree more with the latter. Because I am a jerk. An undisciplined jerk.

Now that I’ve explained, I need a new countdown date. I have a bday with a zero in it coming up, so I could do that. No I will not say which decade I will be entering because you would be shocked, shocked and dismayed, by my immaturity. My emotional development stopped somewhere in the high teens but luckily I have other qualities that balance that out. Or that’s what I’m assuming because I do have friends that aren’t family and I am married so someone likes me.

Holy crap I just googled it’s less than 60 days until I am ?0.

Days 46-47

Did I tell you I grew up in a boarding school? Well, I grew up in a boarding school. One of the first things they did will drill in the importance of schedules. We all (twenty or so) would have to sit in the common room and draw our own schedule charts.

This is good when you are young and wild and unruly. Now, I think I would be considered in the more stringent term of “regimented”, which can make things a wee bit boring. This was kind of the point of this blog, to make me think about my days because you can pretty much set your clock by me.

I know my dogs do. Especially Mayhem. And she likes it. When I do something out of order or the timing of things are disrupted, she is fully aware.

However, for me, the human, it makes it hard for me to change things up. You know, thrill myself by vacuuming in the morning instead of the afternoon, pushing back snuggle time to work on a project. I will want to work out, or do some writing, but discover I’m 15 minutes past my target start time so I won’t do it, then start early on the next thing. Oooo an extra load of laundry. Goody. And so I get bored. Cage of my own making.

Anyhow, just thoughts, and me mixing up my evening by doing this blah blah post.

Happy, healthy pups are a beautiful thing.

Runnin Over 40

This past year I’ve let myself go. Well, more like 8 months but I’m rounding up. I discovered, for the first time, what it is to be truly lazy and eat whatever I want.

I didn’t sign up for any runs in the past year except a 5k, and had the Disneyworld 10k in February. In the past, I had done the Disney Challenges, which was 10k one day and a 1/2 marathon the next, which was enough to keep the extra pounds at bay and get me three, THREE, medals.

With the 10k, I barely trained. Lazy. And, as always after the Disney runs, I stopped running. In the past it was to let my toenails heal and take some time off. This time? Well….

I didn’t want the discomfort anymore. I wanted to sleep in on the weekends. I didn’t want to worry about what I ate for dinner.

And so…I got into a bad, lazy habit and now I’m fat. For me.

I’m my defense, I did have to prep my house for selling, plus had a full-time job, a side gig job, and two large dogs to entertain and exercise.

I could have worked in some crunches though.

I have also loaded a trailer, quit my job of thirteen years, drove across the country with said dogs, unloaded same trailer and set up house.

There is still time to do some push-ups. Especially since I am unemployed.

It has been years since I’ve been able to run in shorts. Only leggings for me, which was terrible in South Florida but I think will be ok in South Dakota. Still, I would like the option.

I have enjoyed the luxury of being chunky: saying yes to all foods, over eating and laying about, sleeping in late, napping. I’ve dug myself quite a hole to get myself out of, effort-wise and attitude-wise.

And you know what else? So many women my age are overweight, it’s no big thing. Totally acceptable. Like, when I was 20 it wasn’t ok to be heavy. Now, mid-life? Totally fine.

Damn these 40s.