Hi all! I’m moving away from the wordpress platform so please update your bookmarks, blogrolls, links pages, and feeds to http://www.amyella.com.
Don’t worry, all the old posts are there and it should look pretty much the same except now I can add video to my posts (LUCKY YOU!) and support javascript based widgets!
So update away!
I sure hope they do! Yesterday we signed our lease and secured a roof over our heads for the next 24 months! In about four weeks we’ll be living in a lovely double mastered townhouse with a deck off the bright kitchen, a backyard with a vegetable garden already offering, and a finished rec room in the basement. That finished rec room? It has its own full bath. I might not see Patrick for days at a time!
We are waiting on one piece of good news that will put finality to the Great Headache of 2007-2010. We’re getting so close but I don’t want to say a word until it’s done.
The third good thing? Well I guess the Universe will just have to surprise me with that one.
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Me: Am I lying by the pool? Why yes, yes I am!
Her: Awesome! I can’t do that at work…
Me: True, but you get to taze people
Her: Would much rather lay by the pool!
Me: I’d rather lay by the pool and be able to taze the obnoxious people
Her: With a cocktail in the other hand!
Posted via web from Amyella
Guess what is making running super duper cool! I downloaded this Runkeeper app to my sexy new phone and it is the shit (sidebar for Kristin: I downloaded it to mah Drizzle and it is the shizzy!! Rocking my face off!! Like, oh my god!!) I was hoping there was a widget I could add to my sidebar so I would be totally shamed into a consistently strong showing, but it only seems to put up the map, not the activity stats. Maybe I have to play with it a little more.
On to making fun of me! This morning I did something I haven’t done in about a decade: I went to a Body Pump class.
I KNOW, right?
It’s just that I have no desire to ever diet myself crazy or count protein grams or focus on squatting 225 lbs again in my whole life. I did it, it was cool, I loved it at the time. Now I just want to be fit and lean and healthy. And occasionally eat pizza. I certainly don’t want any more muscle mass, but I obviously want to continue strength training. I still love lifting, but doing bodybuilding type splits without pushing as heavy as possible? Wha? I don’t really enjoy that.
So this morning I showed up at the gym for the 5:45 am Body Pump class and I got a damn good workout in! I was sweating, it was challenging, and I guarantee that I’ll be sore tomorrow. Can’t ask for much more than that. Also? The female instructor had a rockin’ body. Bonus!
It’s not that this is the end of my days in the weight room, but at least I’m mixing it up a bit. If I do Body Pump once or twice a week, then I’ll round out my strength workouts with some Turbulence Training supersets or P90X workouts.
Or, fuck it, maybe I’ll just step into the squat rack and load up as many plates as I can.
Posted via web from Amyella
Patrick and I got evited to a party taking place on an upcoming Saturday night and after responding affirmative to being there we carefully planned our timed escape. Not that we don’t love an hour long Metro ride to a one-bathroom townhouse in DC crammed with lawyers but I think we have something else planned that night. Like ordering a movie On Demand and drinking a bottle of wine. Each. That’s our kind of party.
In 2004 I lived in Solana Beach, second only to Coronado in The Greatest Places I’ve Ever Lived Ever In My Entire Life and also More Reminders of My Most Regretted Decision Also Known As Moving To Virginia.
That information isn’t terribly relevant to the story, except that I miss being there. Thanks for indulging me.
Solana Beach is the entry to the northern part of the county, directly across from the Del Mar Racetrack. I lived a about a mile from the beach making it “inland” and also more affordable. I sort of befriended a quirky but nice girl whose name isn’t Kelly but whom I’m going to call Kelly. We didn’t really hang out all that much, since she was more of a party girl, but we texted from time to time and I saw her whenever I went to the salon where she worked. Which was fairly often because girls in Southern California spend a lot of time on various waxing, polishing, and coloring needs.
Kelly was “friendly” with various athletes, police officers, and other wealthy somebodies in San Diego and one night she invited me to a party in Rancho Santa Fe. I was super nervous about going, even after she assured me that my planned outfit would be just fine and she gave me the passcode to relay to the guard so I’d be able to get in.
Rancho Santa Fe is the third most expensive place to live in the entire country and has the highest income communities in the U.S. I pulled up to the house and it was, how shall I say? Large.
I let myself in and followed the noise to the kitchen where most of the people had congregated to enjoy the catering and champagne. The attendance ranged from much younger than me to much older than me and the outfits spanned from micro minis to suits. I found Kelly and hung by her side, feeling wildly out of place and epically uncool. She pointed people out and gave me tidbits of gossip and introduced me to all her young, pretty friends wearing way skimpier clothing than me.
As is the way with young, pretty girls there seemed to be a lot of drama. Almost every one of them needed Kelly to listen to one problem or another and whisked her away for whispered advice.
I didn’t plan on staying for very long and within an hour and a half hour I was starting to eye my watch. Standing in a group with Kelly and some of the young pretties I tried to find my out when an older, obviously wealthy gentleman approached. He put his arms around a couple of the girls and casually asked who wanted to make $500. Kelly nodded a couple of the girls out of the group and they all walked off with the man to a room.
HOLY FUCKBALLS! Kelly was a pimp!
Needless to say I didn’t bother waiting for “an out”, I just got the hell out of there.
I went home, put on sweatpants and plopped onto the couch. I opened a beer, grabbed the remote and settled in for the night.
Because that’s my type of party.
I’ve run into WWPT a couple of times since then and he is just tickled with going out of his way to say hello to me and ask “so how’s it going?” I’m not sure if he’s genuinely trying to be nice, or if he thinks this will make me uncomfortable (it doesn’t). Either way, I find it amusing and always smile, and answer him with a hello and “good n’you?”
Um, so I haven’t really felt like posting anything lately. I’m feeling a lot of stress and the only way of processing it, for me, is CRAZY OVER ANALYSIS of things Not In My Control.
I wish I was one of those people who felt a great sense of relief from working out. I am not. Never have been. I did legs on Sunday that left my quads still sore today, but I stepped out of the gym just as stressed as I was going in. You know what running does? It gives me a solid half hour to over think. Fantastic.
Anyway, I did get to go home and see the Herd for a few days which was excellent, even if I was there for a funeral. We laughed and talked late into the morning and drank too much wine. I walked on the beach and breathed real deep, and at night I kept the window open so I could hear the ocean waves. There are definitely things I miss about being there.
I keep reminding myself that life is good. And it is. Everything will work out because what are the other choices? There are no other choices. So everything will work.
In the meantime, I am desperately seeking some side work.
After 7 days of consecutive workouts I finally managed to get in a zone with my yogging. This morning I added just a tiny bit of distance, completed 3.4 miles and finished no problem. Still slow, but steady. If I keep up at this rate I could potentially be doing 5 miles at the end of the month. We’ll see.
It felt good to work out over the long weekend. The temps hit 90 degrees, which put me in a great mood, I got to sleep in, lounge at the pool, and just relax. Saturday afternoon I went for my 3.2 run and felt great after, despite the sticky heat.
Sunday I went to the gym to do legs and Monday I did upper body, mostly shoulders with bis and tris stuck in there. I finished up with a half hour on the elliptical, but not before completely butting into someone else’s business and calling out the World’s Worst Personal Trainer (WWPT).
Seriously, I’ve seen this guy in there before and he completely and utterly SUCKS as a personal trainer. He’s lazy, disinterested, distracted and just generally doesn’t seem to know what’s he’s doing. He’s also fat and grotesquely out of shape and we can get into an argument over whether or not a personal trainer has to “look” like a personal trainer, but let’s just agree that working in that field you SHOULDN’T look like a contestant on the Biggest Loser. Ok?
So I’m doing shoulders and when I go to pick up my dumbbells I see a girl sitting alone on a bench. WWPT is standing a few feet away, chatting with an employee of the gym. The girl is staring off into space. Literally – daydreaming, just sitting there.
While this is a situation that has absolutely nothing to do with me, for some reason I start becoming irritated. 5 minutes pass with no change, and I’m getting beyond annoyed. At the 10 minute mark (I’ve completed 6 sets plus rest periods) I find myself inexplicably irate. Finally he comes over to her, hands her 35 pound dumbbells for her to bench press and then turns to continue his conversation with someone Not His Client. He turns away while she struggles, says “Too heavy!” and he takes them and points for her to move to another bench. Without speaking to her.
She moves to the other bench and commences more sitting and staring off into space and I completely lose my shit.
From across the gym I say “I hope you’re not paying for that personal training session!” She looks startled and then bursts out laughing. I continue, “I’m totally serious. I’ve seen better one on one attention from online trainers.”
WWPT was pissed! I didn’t care.
Serves him right.
Kate’s dad passed away last night, after an unexpected and rushed trip to the hospital last week. It’s a very sad day for the Herd.
amyella 