...in more ways than one.
When I first got my bike back in December, it was a little unsettling getting used to riding around. I hadn't even been on a bike at all in the better part of 15 years, except for one quick ride to return a bike my family rented on vacation in Edisto Island back in 2009. And I'd definitely never actively ridden in traffic before. I had no sense of what it felt like to be passed by cars or how wide a space needed to be in order for me to ride through it. And god, what I must have looked like the first time I had to figure out the best way to lock my bike to one of those little bike-posts-with-a-circle-on-it they have on the sidewalks. Spatial reasoning, she is not my strong suit.
But I got used to things really quickly and within a few weeks or a month or so was zipping around - between stopped traffic and parked cars, on streets without a dedicated bike lane, all kinds of fancy shit that terrified the bejeezus out of me at first. And during the last month, I've developed kiiiiiind of a bad habit: listening to music while I ride.
I know, I know. I keep the volume down and make sure to be extra-attentive to what's going on around me. I don't blow through red lights or stop signs, and I certainly don't commit PhillyGuy's number one bike annoyance of riding between lanes of moving traffic. But still.
The other day, when I was riding, the Offspring's "Bad Habit" came on. Smash is a great album, and back when I actually ran regularly, about eight songs from that album were on regular rotation in my running mixes. This particular song, though, will ALWAYS bring me back to the summer of 1994 or 1995 - I was at Camp, old enough to have a "boyfriend" and young enough to think it was fun and scandalous to curse. I had a friend who I was convinced was the coolest person I'd ever meet - he was short, incredibly witty and a badass drummer (and has, actually, since gone on to have a fairly successful music career out in California). Like most 13 year olds in the mid-90s, my knowledge of the Offspring was pretty much limited to the song "Self Esteem." He made me a copy of the full album (on a cassette tape!), and my love for the Offspring was born.
(Incidentally, he also introduced to me to Rush. I have a bootleg copy of 2112 somewhere in a shoebox, I'm sure of it.)
So, yes. Hearing "Bad Habit" now takes me back to being a newly-minted teenager in the grunge era, walking through the woods with my friends screaming "YOU STUPID DUMBSHIT GODDAMN MOTHERFUCKER!" at the top of our lungs. Because we were fucking awesome.
And then yesterday, I'm on my way home from the gym and I hear "All-Star" by Smashmouth. Come ON. I cannot hear this song without instantly being transported to the late spring of 1999. I was a junior in high school, had a license and my very first car (a 1991 two-door Nissan Sentra with power nothing and no tape deck, let alone a CD player), and remember blasting that song while I drove out to camp (yes, god, camp AGAIN) to pick up my materials for what I didn't realize at the time would be my very last summer working there. I clearly remember having my windows down, leopard print fuzzy dice bobbing around, and wearing a really, truly awful black spaghetti-strap, slightly cropped tank top with some tribal-ish design on the front and super-wide-leg khaki cargo pants (think JNCOs). You have to understand that I thought I was really, REALLY hot stuff then - I was different! and UNIQUE! and SO INTERESTING! God, I miss the 90s sometimes.
Anyway, that's that. I wish I hadn't gotten rid of my JNCOs - particularly the sweet Hypnotix with a 32" leg opening and a red and white swirl down the side - but it's more fun, on balance, being a grown-up.
Workout log:
Wednesday May 16: practice with kipping pullups. Stringing them together is my weak spot, but I'm working on it. Pronated grip chest-to-bar strict pullups, peak of three - OY, these are tough. Light + mini bands; light band for two sets; light +2.5lbs. Metcon: Four rounds of 2-minute AMRAP 4 box jumps (30/24"), 8 toes to bar, 12 american kettlebell swings (1.5/1pood). As RX'd, 1 round + 2 KBS, 1+7 T2B, 1+8T2B, 1+5T2B. Stayed for gymnastics; worked on pressing up to a handstand from tucked, straddle and piked positions, and bridge work with kickovers. I usually don't do two metcons in a day, but this looked fun: 5 rounds of 5 touch-and-go straddle handstands, 7 bridge ups, 9 piked v-ups. 8:40 as RX'ed.
Thursday May 17: clean & jerk. 53x2-73x2-88x1-98x1-108x1, pressed out-108x1-113x1, power cleaned but easy. Felt much better than last week. Metcon: 6 minute AMRAP of 60' bear crawl, 20 air squats. I totally ate it TWICE during the bear crawl when my legs outran my hands. Squats slow as shit. 5 rounds + 30' bear crawl.
Friday May 18: FRAN FRIDAYS. Deadlift, peak of 3. Didn't feel as strong this week - 135-165-195-215-235. Attempted 255, but it felt REALLY heavy on my first pull so I called it at one. Fran, 7:08 as RX'ed.
Gettin' better at this.
Showing posts with label distracted. Show all posts
Showing posts with label distracted. Show all posts
Friday, May 18, 2012
Friday, January 14, 2011
Distracted
I have been incredibly distracted this week.
Especially yesterday. Don't get me wrong, I did plenty of work...but I'm WAY OVER one particular deal that I feel like I've been working on for ages, and it's been taking its toll on me. I did more than a little bit of Google-reader-stalking and twitter-refreshing.
I also spent about half the day fantasizing about the dinner I was going to make. See, I think I mentioned yesterday that the only groceries we really have in the house are frozen chicken and a giant Costco-sized bag of broccoli florets. For some reason, I became obsessed with the idea of making broccoli with pasta sauce. And I mean OBSESSED.
I went home, walked and fed the pups, made a new playlist and hit the gym for a sweaty and somewhat painful half-hour on the treadmill...while thinking about the broccoli that was to come. I did three miles of half-mile repeats at 7.5mph, with recovery at 6.0mph, totaling about 26 minutes and some change. I was a red-faced sweaty beast, but I was happy. And during my cooldown and stretching, I just could NOT stop thinking about my broccoli pasta. And how I could post about it.
So, I made my dinner. I steamed up a buttload of broccoli, drained off the salted water and added a chopped onion. While that was sauteeing together, I sliced up a few chicken breasts, seasoned with garlic, onion, salt, and Mrs. Dash tomato basil pepper. Dump in the chicken, stir to sear on all sides, dump in jar of whatever marinara-style sauce I had handy, bring to boil, simmer, done.
And yet...you'll notice that there are no pictures. Of anything. No pictures of the bright green broccoli, no pictures of my finished bowl (I served my portion of the broccoli-chicken-sauce conglomerate over a couple handfuls of baby spinach and topped the whole thing with a couple shaves of sharp provolone and some grated Locatelli), nothing.
I haven't blogged a dinner in...I don't know, a long time...and yet I couldn't even remember to pick up my stupid camera to document my broccoli bowl. Told you I was distracted.
But it's okay. The longest week ever is coming to a close. I have my iced coffee (though I need a second one this morning, I think), I have my Fage 0, and I have a growing checklist of things to do today that don't involve much human interaction...so I'm happy. PhillyGuy and I are probably going to dinner tonight...maybe Pub & Kitchen, where we haven't been in ages? Maybe Resurrection Ale House, where we go ALL.THE.TIME. (but it's so tasty!).
Or maybe we'll stay home and I'll drink wine and wear sweatpants. The possibilities are endless.
Happy friday!
Especially yesterday. Don't get me wrong, I did plenty of work...but I'm WAY OVER one particular deal that I feel like I've been working on for ages, and it's been taking its toll on me. I did more than a little bit of Google-reader-stalking and twitter-refreshing.
I also spent about half the day fantasizing about the dinner I was going to make. See, I think I mentioned yesterday that the only groceries we really have in the house are frozen chicken and a giant Costco-sized bag of broccoli florets. For some reason, I became obsessed with the idea of making broccoli with pasta sauce. And I mean OBSESSED.
I went home, walked and fed the pups, made a new playlist and hit the gym for a sweaty and somewhat painful half-hour on the treadmill...while thinking about the broccoli that was to come. I did three miles of half-mile repeats at 7.5mph, with recovery at 6.0mph, totaling about 26 minutes and some change. I was a red-faced sweaty beast, but I was happy. And during my cooldown and stretching, I just could NOT stop thinking about my broccoli pasta. And how I could post about it.
So, I made my dinner. I steamed up a buttload of broccoli, drained off the salted water and added a chopped onion. While that was sauteeing together, I sliced up a few chicken breasts, seasoned with garlic, onion, salt, and Mrs. Dash tomato basil pepper. Dump in the chicken, stir to sear on all sides, dump in jar of whatever marinara-style sauce I had handy, bring to boil, simmer, done.
And yet...you'll notice that there are no pictures. Of anything. No pictures of the bright green broccoli, no pictures of my finished bowl (I served my portion of the broccoli-chicken-sauce conglomerate over a couple handfuls of baby spinach and topped the whole thing with a couple shaves of sharp provolone and some grated Locatelli), nothing.
I haven't blogged a dinner in...I don't know, a long time...and yet I couldn't even remember to pick up my stupid camera to document my broccoli bowl. Told you I was distracted.
But it's okay. The longest week ever is coming to a close. I have my iced coffee (though I need a second one this morning, I think), I have my Fage 0, and I have a growing checklist of things to do today that don't involve much human interaction...so I'm happy. PhillyGuy and I are probably going to dinner tonight...maybe Pub & Kitchen, where we haven't been in ages? Maybe Resurrection Ale House, where we go ALL.THE.TIME. (but it's so tasty!).
Or maybe we'll stay home and I'll drink wine and wear sweatpants. The possibilities are endless.
Happy friday!
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