Random matters of comfort(ability)...

Now that I've watched the Dancing Matt video approximately 143 times, I should probably write about something else...

I had a dream last night that I had all kinds of stuff written for my blog... paragraphs and paragraphs of insightful, eloquent prose... Yeah, I don't think THAT dream is coming true today. Sorry. :)

So I have been informed that I need to give SOMEone credit for drawing in random, sporadic, worldwide readers, who stumble upon my blog when searching for info about made-up words. Or, rather, one specific made-up word -- I am speaking, of course, about comfortability. And yes, I suppose I DO need to give Faisal credit, because queries on Google for this "comfort" counterpart top the search terms people use before finding my blog. Of course, I'm not sure how many of these people return to keep reading... perhaps I should start a new blog simply titled "Comfortability." Or perhaps I should ask Faisal for a NEW made-up word... a made-up word to rival the unmitigated popularity of comfortability... hmmm... would he be up to the challenge??

Moving on: Should I be concerned that the top two shelves of my pantry have always seemed to bow downward?

And should I also be concerned that, for some inexplicable reason, this is where I've chosen to place lots and lots of heavy canned items?? (By the way, that little bag of green stuff over on the bottom right is catnip -- I just realized that its green, herby appearance looks rather suspicious. I placed it up on that shelf because Riff can't reach it -- if he could reach it, he'd pull it out of the pantry every time the door was open and chew the bag apart until he could roll around in catnippy happiness...)

I've probably mentioned this before, but I am continually surprised by the fact that the weather in Chicago is even crazier than the weather in Austin. I mean, I used to think Austin weather was completely nutso... but now it seems relatively sane and predictable. Like now, for instance -- it's summer, so it's hot in Austin. And there's probably not a lot of rain. But here, it's harder to know what's going on. The temperature the last few weeks has been all over the place -- yesterday the high was 70-something... Thursday the high is supposed to be 104... then it'll be back into the 80s and 90s (maybe... that's assuming that the weather forecasters are correct)... Sometimes rain will be predicted for later in the week, and then two days later the forecast changes... and then two days later it changes AGAIN. The meteorologists around here have NO clue what is going on. (And Rick is getting VERY annoyed by the fact that we've had no thunderstorms lately...)

Okay, I'm off to make tea and watch some Netflix shows... hope everyone is having a good week...

Dancing king...

I was so excited to see this video on my mom's Facebook page yesterday -- I've been waiting four years for a new Dancing Matt video! If you haven't seen the one from 2008, you should check out this guy's website and watch it first -- I think I like the new one even better than the last one (and I really loved that one from 2008), because there's actual choreography in this one... AND, he got into North Korea. How did he get into North Korea?!?

This video just makes me ridiculously happy when I watch it. Just like last time, I'm struck by how something so silly and simple can bring together people from all over the world -- from crowded cities to remote jungles -- for one single purpose. There's so much negativity and conflict in the world -- so many perceived "differences" that apparently require drastic, dramatic, excessive action -- but when you really get down to the basics, we're all just... people. And that's it. People who occasionally like to dance. And some of us (me) may look like total dorks when we do so... but I'm still going to watch this video for the fiftieth time and join in for a few steps...

Some random stuff...

Hello from Austin! Wow, I forgot how hot it was here... stepping off the plane was like walking into a sauna. Fortunately, mom and dad have a pool, so hopefully I can hang out in the backyard and get an awesome tan this weekend... (Of course, "awesome tan" for me means going from "blindingly white" to "slightly off white." I have a bit of a melanin deficiency...)

The plane ride down went by really quickly, thanks to Rick renting a movie for his iPad. We watched "In Time" with Justin Timberlake and Amanda Seyfried -- not the best movie, but at around an hour and 45 minutes, it was the perfect length for our flight. Because the time between, "you may now use approved electronic devices" and "please turn off all electronic devices" was just about an hour and 45 minutes.

I woke up this morning with a crazy insane headache... this seems to happen a lot after plane travel... especially if I fly to a different climate. Maybe it's a sinus thing? Working off that assumption, I've taken some Sudafed and Advil and now I'm drinking coffee... one of those has to do SOMEthing. But I'm trying not to complain too much, since mom just had surgery and is dealing with lots of pain right now... hmmmm... which means she has painkillers... she wouldn't miss ONE, would she?? (Just kidding, mom -- I did NOT take any of your painkillers... :))

Speaking of surgery -- why do I seem to know an inordinate number of people whose intestines have been removed, truncated, put back into place, or otherwise messed around with?? Maybe everyone just needs to stop eating...

My mom is lounging on the couch like a lazy person, watching the Price is Right (kidding again! I mean, she IS watching the Price is Right, but she's only lounging on the couch because of the aforementioned surgery... :)). I hardly ever watch this show, but the few times I've seen it, it seems like they always choose the cheapest cars to give away as prizes. They'll have, like, a Yugo or something on display, and the person playing the game will be jumping up and down like they've always dreamed of driving a Yugo... And if they actually WIN, it's like that Yugo magically transforms into a Maserati and nothing has been so exciting EVER in the history of the world...

How am I just NOW hearing about the huge wildfires out in Colorado?? I need to pay more attention to the news... I think I avoid it at times because it can be so negative and divisive. But I should probably try to stay up-to-date on what's going on in the world...

Well, my Sudafed/Advil/coffee combo seems to finally be working, and it's almost time to figure out what to do for lunch... and then possibly work on my tan... or my beige... whatever...

 

And did I mention pop tarts??

So my mom's comment under my 6-mile-run post got me thinking -- about working out, and people's perceptions of exercise, and why I do what I do. The short, easy answer, of course, is that I love chocolate... and cupcakes... and cookies. And I weigh about 35 pounds less now than I did 12 years ago (all pictures of me from oh, let's say, 1998 to 2000 should be destroyed)... and my blood pressure is really low... and my cholesterol is good (the last time I had it checked, the nurse said, "You work out, don't you?" before I'd even heard what the numbers were). And nothing is as good a mood-lifter for me than exercise. Basically, all the usual reasons for working out...

But here's the long story. And seriously, this will probably be a long story, so grab a cup of coffee or tea or Caribou hot chocolate (that's another reason to work out -- Caribou hot chocolate... that stuff is crack in a cup), and get comfy:

I think I was a reasonably active kid -- ran around outside a lot, rode my bike, roller skated in the summer, ice skated in the winter... and I LOVED swimming. If it was warm and there was a pool nearby, I would be in it as long as I possibly could be. And when you're a kid, gym class at school pretty much consists of running around aimlessly -- nothing too structured or serious...

As I got older, I started to spend more time reading and writing and drawing pictures, and less time running around outside. Although I still have many memories of climbing the tree in front of our house when I was twelve... and hiking through the "canyon" (probably some kind of drainage ditch) behind our neighborhood... and playing badminton with Eric in the driveway of our house in New Jersey. Gym class, however, started to get a lot more serious. Gone were the days of running around aimlessly... instead, we were introduced to team sports and timed drills.

And here's what I discovered: I was HORRIBLE at team sports. I was horrendous at volleyball -- any time I attempted to hit the ball, it would fly off in the opposite direction I had intended; I was confused by basketball -- I spent the entire game attempting to hide behind everyone else on my team so no one would pass the ball to me... I wouldn't have had any idea what to do with it if I had it; I was terrified of softball -- IF I managed to hit the ball, it would always be an easy fly out... and when the opposing team was batting, I made sure to take my place in right field to be statistically assured of the least amount of play. You name it, I was bad at it. (The only sport I was even marginally good at was soccer -- but, this being America, we only played it for about a week before returning to softball or volleyball... so much volleyball... why was there so much volleyball???)

Consequently, I became THAT kid -- the one who was always, ALWAYS chosen last when teams were formed. Nobody wanted the girl who couldn't even aim a volleyball in the general direction of the net. I was well aware of the fact that I wasn't exactly an athlete... but nothing drives the point home like standing all alone on the sidelines while two teams of your peers stare at you with a combination of pity, derision and ridicule written on their smug faces (I assume they were smug... I actually can't remember). Fortunately, gym class wasn't ALL team sports -- sometimes we'd head outside to the track. I didn't mind WALKING around the track... I could've walked around the track all day. But RUNNING was a different story -- the timed mile was the worst. No matter what I did, I could never finish that mile in less than 12 minutes. My classmates would be done in 7, 8, 9 minutes, and then it would just be me and the fat kids... or the kids with asthma who weren't allowed to run. "How do they go so fast??" I would wonder...

Eventually, I just accepted it -- I would NEVER be able to do any of those "active" things that other people did. There was a voice in the back of my mind that made it very clear -- "you're not an athlete... you're not a runner... and you never will be. Don't even bother... stick to what you're good at." And I was very good at being a nerdy wallflower who read books and watched scientific shows on the Discovery Channel just for the fun of it. And don't get me wrong -- I'm quite proud of my nerdy side... but I've always been a bit jealous of the people who lace up their sneakers with seemingly effortless nonchalance... the ones who buy workout gear at sporting goods stores and actually USE it...

And then, of course, life happened -- I moved to Texas, got married, got a job, got two jobs... and those annoying numbers on the scale started almost imperceptibly climbing upward. Before I knew it, my clothes were shrinking for absolutely no reason whatsoever. Okay, so maybe there WAS a reason. The point is, for the first time in my life, I decided I would TRY to add some "activity" to my days. Nothing too strenuous of course -- after all, that voice was still there, telling me that I wasn't the kind of person who could do anything truly "athletic." I decided I would be better off with some harmless aerobics videos, and maybe just plain old walking.

After a few years of regular workouts, I started to get more confident in my abilities. I tried some new things, like kickboxing and weight training -- I finally realized, years afterward, that high school was OVER... there was no one to laugh at me, no one was choosing teams, it didn't matter if I looked like an idiot when I attempted a roundhouse kick -- the only team was ME. It was just me against me. And I got really good at walking. I mean, I could WALK for miles, no problem. I walked my first treadmill into oblivion (it was a pretty cheap model), and the second didn't last too long, either. Eventually, Rick thought it would be best to invest in a treadmill with a lifetime warranty so we weren't constantly buying new models.

And yet I STILL heard that stupid voice in my head -- "you're not a runner... you just can't do it... you've never been good at it, so why even bother trying??" But I started to wonder -- what if that voice was WRONG? I mean, everywhere I look, I see people running, jogging, tackling 5K races -- what's so different about all of them than me? What if, this whole time, my legs (and my lungs) have been perfectly capable of carrying me farther and faster, and I've just been defeating MYSELF before I've even attempted to prove myself wrong??

So I started adding short bursts of jogging into my usual walking routines. It was slow going for a while... extremely slow going... in fact, for a couple years, I was still convinced that I really WASN'T someone who could run. Maybe I just didn't have the genetic predisposition. And then one day about a year ago, I was reading through some healthy living blogs and stumbled upon one written by a runner... a REAL runner... a "runs marathons every month" kinda runner. And she happened to be answering questions from readers. One of the questions asked for tips about running farther and faster. And the blogger's answer was so simple: "If you want to run farther, you just have to RUN FARTHER... and if you want to run faster, you just have to RUN FASTER." And all of a sudden, something clicked -- I hadn't been stuck on walking for years because I COULDN'T run... I was stuck on walking because I DIDN'T run. If I wanted to run more, I had to, very simply, RUN MORE.

That one simple idea was quite motivating. And once I started actually DOING what I'd thought for so long I was UNABLE to do, I was even MORE motivated -- once I started adding a minute of running here and a quarter mile there, I realized it all added up. It started to become doable... it started to seem less and less like that voice I'd heard for so long was correct. Maybe it was totally, completely wrong. Could I finally achieve that sub-12-minute mile that had eluded me for so long in high school? (If I couldn't even run a mile in less than 12 minutes when I was 15, could I do it NOW, when I'm... uh... a lot more than 15?? And how awesome would it be if my older-than-15-year-old self kicked the butt of my 15-year-old past?)

And I'll tell you -- it IS pretty awesome when you're way-older-than-15 but manage to accomplish something you were never able to do when you were 15. Once I hit that 12-minute mile, I had to see if I could do 11... and then if I could manage 10. I did 6 miles in an hour... can I do 6.5?? I no longer see a 9-minute-mile as an impossibility -- I no longer look at all the people I see out for their daily jogs and think, "I could never do that..." I no longer walk into a Sports Authority and feel like I don't belong -- because I know that the shoes or shorts I buy will be well-worn.

The best part is that the negative voice that had been such a part of my life for so long has been silenced. I'm not the most confident person in general -- there are other voices that tell me about things I can't do or things I'm no good at (just ask Rick about all the voices in my head... :)), but if I was able to accomplish this one "impossible" thing -- who knows? -- maybe there are other things I can do, as well.

And seriously -- I really, really do love cupcakes...

Random stuff...

I'm working on another (probably really long) post about running, which hopefully I'll post in a day or two. But for now, here are a few random thoughts:

I thought I'd better post SOMEthing, since I've been such a blog slacker this week. But I've been busy with a lot of random stuff... like driving out to the suburbs just to get tater tots at Sonic... and dusting every surface of my condo, which collects dust much too quickly... and watching a two-and-a-half hour long Indian movie which was about a third in English and two-thirds in No Subtitles (I got the general idea... if I hadn't, I would've been writing a blog post instead of spending the afternoon watching the movie...).

So we just found out that we might have ANOTHER leaky pipe in our condo, this time in the bathroom. The guy doing renovations downstairs called last week and asked if anyone had been showering sometime between 4 and 5... which is usually right after my workout, so no doubt it was me. Apparently every time we run our shower, the place downstairs is leaking. We've been thinking about redoing our outdated bathroom anyway, but I don't think we expected to do any remodeling this soon. Needless to say, we'll be using the guest shower for a while. (Please tell me that when I use the guest shower, the guy downstairs won't call to say the ceiling in his guest bathroom is leaking...)

Like I mentioned above, we drove out to the suburbs over the weekend, just for the fun of it. We found a Sonic, ate some tater tots, and wandered around grassy neighborhoods with million-dollar houses. Rick says he misses having a lawn, but I'm not at the "lawn-missing" stage yet -- I still like my city condo. But I suppose eventually, even I might want more space or peace and quiet. (And I wouldn't mind getting another dog, but I definitely don't want one while we're downtown...) So who knows where we'll be in a few years...

I am completely obsessed with Sriracha hot sauce right now. I can't believe it took me so long to try the stuff -- I've seen it in Asian restaurants for years and years, but never so much as dipped a grain of rice into the fiery concoction. But now, I can't get enough of it. Tonight, I'm thinking about making chicken marinated in Sriracha, soy sauce and garlic...

And speaking of running, and showering, and dinner -- I need to go take care of all three of those things, probably in that exact order... otherwise things'll get weird...