So Sleepy

from staying up until way, WAY past my bedtime to watch the finale of Lost. I. LOVED. IT. I cried about forty billion times. I honestly can't think of a better way for the show to wrap up and I don't really get the whole "OMG WTF" wave of responses. Considering what a letdown it could have been, I think they pulled things together nicely. I found it WAY more satisfying than the Sopranos finale.

I spent most of yesterday running errands -- it had been a really, really long time since we'd done any real grocery shopping, so it was an expensive couple of trips. Wegman's, Target, Costco AND Petsmart...by the time I was done, I was ready to jump out of a window somewhere. Sundays at Costco are a special level of hell, what with everyone milling around aimlessly with their ginormous carts, stopping in the middle of an aisle to try a sample of some kind of nasty potato salad or whatever...it's like a freaking obstacle course.

I'd love to wear a blood pressure monitor while in there, just to see what happens.

I left the house around 9:30 with my trusty reusable Starbucks cold cup filled with Via. A couple hours into the trip, I scarfed down a Clif Builder's Bar between stores. Needless to say, when I finally got home around 1:45 or 2pm, I was starving, and as soon as we were done putting away the fifteen thousand pounds of groceries, I made myself some scrambled eggwhites with spinach, mushrooms, peppers and olives.

Later on, I headed out for a six mile run along the river. I intended to run ten-minute miles -- conserving energy and going easy on myself and all that.

FAIL.



I always, always do this. I set out to go slow, and my body finds a "comfortable" pace -- about 30-40 seconds per mile faster than it should be. This wouldn't be a problem, except for the fact that I'm not in that kind of shape right now, and so I run out of gas at the end. I had to walk for a little bit in the middle of mile 6, and it took every ounce of energy I had to keep up my shuffle back to my gate.

But -- see that little .16-mile nubbin there at the end? When I got home from my run, I came inside and called the dogs down to me so I could take them out. See, Sophie's something of a wanderer. I've always wanted to put my Garmin on her and just kind of let her go, just to see where she'd head to. So, for kicks, I turned it back on when I took the dogs out, and I let her take the lead so I could see where we'd go.



That, my friends, is what happens when you let a thirteen-month-old dog who regularly gets herself stuck under the couch be in charge.



(When she was a baby, she fit very nicely under there. Now, she can still manage to squeeze herself in, but can't ever seen to get back out. Usually, when she starts making pathetic little whining sounds, we know it's time to head into the other room and lift up the couch so she can bolt out of there. Saturday night, I heard the familiar pathetic whimpering, and headed in to see that: little tiny pathetic puppy eyes. Obviously, I ran back into the other room to get my camera. I'm a great person.)

Back to It

After Broad Street, I took Monday off from the gym unintentionally -- I had planned to work out, but ended up having to spend the evening preparing for a deposition. BOOOOOO. Yesterday, I intentionally took the day off, too. I rationalized it by figuring my body could use the extra recovery -- but really, in my mind, I knew that I just didn't feel like going to the gym.

So I didn't.

We made dinner instead -- grilled chicken for me, with half a jar of salsa, some pepperjack cheese, Fage 0 and sliced olives. PhillyGuy made some kind of pasta dish with whole wheat rotini, broccoli, chicken and onions in a vodka sauce that we had sitting around.

We were settled in, happily watching Lost and eating dinner, when suddenly, all hell broke loose. And by that, I mean that Sophie got the zoomies and went apeshit doing laps around our dining room table. That is NEVER a good sign -- so I leapt up and ran over to grab her, but not in time to stop her from starting to pee on our rug.

Ugh. So, I scooped her up mid-pee and ran downstairs. Naturally, Cosmo followed us, so I took them both outside.

Where Cosmo proceeded to pee on Sophie's head.

WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAT.

We ran upstairs, Sophie in my arms, and went straight up to the bathroom, where the dogs proceeded to get bathed. Poor Sophie, with her pee-soaked (okay, more like pee-drizzled) head went first. She doesn't LOVE the bath, but sits there and tolerates it. Cosmo, on the other hand, was terrified. As soon as he figured out what was coming, he froze and tried to find a way out of the bathroom. PhillyGuy hung out, trying to calm him down.

Cosmo was a good sport, though. He stood frozen and tense in the tub with his head lodged firmly against my stomach. I could see his hind legs shaking a little bit as I washed him. Poor guy -- he is such a good dog, and it's obvious his old family didn't treat him right. Yesterday, he puked on the floor after drinking too much water too quickly, and was so terrified that he ran into his crate, jammed himself in the back, and refused to come out, even for a treat.

Poor dogs. Thank god for DVR, though -- even with the 25-minute break to clean up pee, take the dogs out and then bathe them both, we still got to settle back in and watch the rest of Lost.

Is anyone else really depressed about that show now? Pretty much all of my favorite characters, with the exception of Hurley, are now dead. I can't stand Jack and Kate, and yet -- here they are. BOOOOOOO.

Single Parenting is Rough...

PhillyGuy is in Chicago for business for a couple days this week, which leaves me and Sophie to have a couple girls' nights. She's funny -- last night around 9:15, it occurred to her that "Dad" should have been home by now. With a troubled look on her face, she headed down the stairs to sit on the landing and wait for him to get home. I felt so bad for her...he's not coming, sister.

Yesterday at the gym was 30 minutes of steady-state cardio, followed by push. I knew I planned to run again tonight, so I didn't try to push it too hard last night -- running three days in a row (and four out of five days) is probably pushing my luck right now. Instead, I entertained myself with a scintillating US Weekly (feature: Kardashians, then and now) and did 30 minutes of hill walking, 4mph at inclines ranging from 5.5 to 12%. I was sweaty, but it's not even remotely as fun as running...

Lifting was good. I did:
- bench press, 3x12 at 60lbs
- tricep bench dips, 3x12 with body weight
- shoulder press, 3x12 at 35lbs
- bent over dumbbell reverse flies, 3x12 with two 8-lb dumbbells
- tricep pushdowns with flat bar, 3x12 at 30lbs
- skullcrushers, 3x12 with an 8lb dumbbell -- this was weird, I'm not sure what to use here. Normally I would use an EZ bar, but we don't have one, and the angles of holding a dumbbell are just odd.

I'm having trouble focusing on work today. I don't have a TON to do, but it's enough, and I'm just having one of those mornings where I can't seem to get into the swing of things. Don't you hate that?

Oh well...t-minus eleven hours or so until LOST :)