Wow. Long time, no blog.
I know, in the grand scheme of things, two days is nothing — not when I’ve been known to drop off the face of the earth for weeks on end. At least this absence has nothing to do with not wanting to speak to anyone because I’ve been “bad.”
Quite the contrary. It’s been a great weekend.
The awesomeness started on Friday, when I attempted my first 25-minute run for C25K. The attempt was a success. Sure, I felt like I wanted to die a couple of times … and those 25 minutes seemed to go on for-ever. But I just kept moving, and eventually I had a 25-minute run under my belt.
Even better? I finished the first mile at 15:34 and the second at 29:26. If my math is right — always questionable for a journalism major — that means I ran a mile in under 14 minutes.
Can I get a woo-hoo? I am not, however, thrilled that all three Week 7 runs are 25-minute runs. Just because I did it once doesn’t mean I’m looking forward to doing it again. The only up-side is that it might get easier. I hope it gets easier.
I was feeling pretty good about myself after that run, evidenced by my choice of work wear. Isn’t our office bathroom a pretty shade of green?
Yeah, I know I still have work to do. My upper arms still need extreme toning, but my hips look thinner and my stomach is flatter. It’s a start.
After work Friday, I headed to the Boyfriend’s for the weekend. Saturday, we went to see “Ted.” It was a mostly hilarious movie — about as raunchy and offensive as you’d expect from the creator of “The Family Guy” and “American Dad.” (I love those shows, but don’t get a chance to watch them very often.)
I did partake in some of the Boyfriend’s popcorn at the movie theater — probably more than I needed. But to make up for it, I hopped on the treadmill when we got back to the house. No jogging happened, but I did walk 1.58 miles in 30 minutes.
Using the Boyfriend’s treadmill really is tougher than using my roommate’s. I suspect it’s because the belt is narrower (and shorter). I’m more worried about flying off the end. Don’t laugh. I’m just uncoordinated enough that I wouldn’t put it past me.
After the walk, we played the Boyfriend’s favorite game: He plays obscure 80s videos and tries to stump me. Sadly, he usually succeeds. But I managed to stump him a couple of times, too. I couldn’t believe he’d never heard Sisters of Mercy’s “Floodland” album … or XTC’s “Ballad of Peter Punkinhead.”
We set my phone’s alarm for the ungodly hour of 6 a.m. because we planned to go on a hike this morning.
The appointed hour arrived and I hit the snooze a couple of times, but I was excited for the hike — and I knew we wanted to get an early start. Living in Arizona’s high desert, it’d heat up quickly.
We were out of the house and on the move by 7 a.m. We arrived at our trailhead and hit the trail at about 7:21.
Red Rock country around Sedona really is beautiful. I should get out to hike more often. Today, we hiked part of Bell Trail, up to a place in the rocks called The Crack, where people go to play in the water of the unfortunately named Wet Beaver Creek.
Who named that one, I wonder? Perhaps the same folks who came up with the name Cherry Road for Arizona Highway 169.
Or maybe I just have a dirty mind. They say copy editors are paid to have a dirty mind.
On the way back, I started fading fast. The Boyfriend had to hike down to the creek to fill our empty water bottle so he could pour it on my head. It cooled me off quite nicely.
In all, we hiked for 3 hours and 25 minutes. (We stopped to rest a few times, mostly on the way back. Maybe the breaks totaled 20 minutes.) I was afraid I’d be really sore this afternoon, but even after a catnap, I woke up without much pain. Wonder if sleeping longer tonight will do a number on me or if I’m just getting in better shape.
I hope that’s it!
We’re going to try to make a Sunday hike a weekly thing. I hope so. I can really use the exercise.