New-ier and improve-ier for 2007.


Damn the Man!

So, the company that is my main client has offshored most of their IT function. The new folks can't figure out how to effectively keep up with patch maintenance and virus prevention. So, they disabled any access to anything that is remotely "message-board" in nature.

It's not that I don't love y'all. 'Cuz I totally do.

I'm just being kept down by the incompetents.

However, I did one hard-ass run and swim workout tonight. And I am finally, FINALLY feeling like I might be back.




Shiny. Pretty. New.

My new bike shoes came today. My new pedals should be here soon (Flatman is da cooles')

I am SUCH a gear whore.



Scene at my gym

Three women, grandma-types, giggling in the shower and singing "Doncha wish your girlfriend was HOT like me!" after their BodyPump class.

How cool is that?

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I feel so violated.

I thought someday, I might be ready for it. But. . . this. This was just too soon.

I feel confused. And more than a little dirty. I don't think there's enough hot water and scrubbing to remove the stain from my soul.

It wasn't at all how I'd imagined it -- I had wanted it to be exciting, beautiful, opening new possibilities in our togetherness. Instead, I was forced to share new parts of myself, and in exchange I received nothing.

It was all over so quickly. Callously. And I was left alone to gingerly inspect the innermost workings all by myself, afraid of the carnage I might find there.

No, it was not "good for me." Not at all.

Damn you, NewBlogger.

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Dear Bold

The answer to your question about "how do you know when your body is recovered from sickness" is DEFINITELY not "play a highly competitive volleyball match where you're the only setter and your team passes like crap."

Lungs. Burning.



Ellipticals are for Pussies*

And yet, I still barely managed to slog through 30 minutes on one yesterday without wheezing and wishing just a little bit for death.

RSV is a very serious illness in small children. It's not similarly life-threatening in adults, but don't think for a minute that it doesn't make it a straight-up beeyotch when you have it.

I am wondering if I've given in to the virus too much, and my body is now acting like a truculent toddler, consistently testing the limits to see how much whiny-ass behavior I will put up with before putting down the hammer.

As with parenting, I'll need to remind myself that going all whup-ass in the opposite direction doesn't actually serve the purpose, and will only be counterproductive in the long run. Slow and steady. I can't will my poor battered lungs to perform at pre-sickness levels just two days after I finally was able to make it through the whole night without continence-threatening coughing fits.

But it doesn't mean I don't WANT to.

*note: statement made for shock value only. Author does not actually believe that elliptical trainers are inferior cardiovascular training equipment. If you're into that pretty-workout-clothes, watching-tv, pink-weights kind of thing, I mean. (I kid! Kidding! Really! Okay, I'll stop now.)