One year younger

During a conversation last night discussing age with my darling daughter, I mentioned that it sucked I was going to be 43 this year. Every year when it gets close to my birthday I start saying my next age, you know, roll it around a little, get used to the idea. Why cling to the number that will soon disappear. Well, it seems that I got so used to it, I had myself convinced I WAS 42 and then started thinking that I would be turning 43. She set me straight, I was so excited last night to learn that I was just turning 42. Then I got upset because I thought how fucking old and senile do you have to be to forget how old you're turning on your birthday. So the happiness was short-lived, but on August 4th, you can wish me a happy 42nd birthday, and I'll take it.

Run/walk was 7.75 km today and I felt awful. Turns our 3 pieces of cheese and two glasses of red aren't decent fuel for working out the next day. The boys were having 5 Guys, and although it one of life's treasures, it's not exactly fitting in with my current plan so I skipped it. Not one fry. Before you critique the choice of wine over five guys, hello!! Wine is good for you, read the articles. I only drink it for my heart, I'm that dedicated.

A funny thing happened on the way to workout

It didn't suck. The alarm when off, even though I had that moment of complete delirium where I kept hammering my phone to make it stop, when it was R's phone making the noise. I got up and I was awake, ready to go. The first week or 5 I was pretty tired and grumpy when the alarm went off but I'm finally getting used to it. And I have to say, there was almost a hint of being ok with it this morning. I started running right out of the gate, my toe didn't hurt and I went pretty far before I had to stop and walk.

OMG and my friends boyfriend said "what's up with Laura, she looks emaciated" - he was exaggerating of course, but he simply does not realize what a compliment that was. Sad isn't it. My friend was jealous because he said she didn't look emaciated. Girls are seriously fucked up.

Can Somebody Get Me A Toe?

Last night I made plans with the Italian son to go to the track at the more reasonable hour of 6:15am. He is a sprinter and needs a track to train on, I didn't think initially that R was going to ride. The reason I didn't think he was going to ride is that he's going to ride 100 miles tomorrow, in the mountains. This would have caused me to decide to take a break the day before, but not R, he's tough (crazy). So last night I'm practically falling into a coma waiting for the broadcast of the Tour to be over. I went into our bedroom to pet the cat, and instantly fell asleep. I could still hear sounds from the TV and willed myself back up to go watch the exciting conclusion. Swung my legs over the bed and cracked my toe on the metal rail. My baby toe. The unnecessary one. I thought to myself, after I finished swearing, self, you've broken your toe this time. I stated this to my concerned family back out in the living room. They said "I think he's going to do it, look, he's on the back of so and so's wheel, he's going to win the sprint, you can't win the sprint unless you can get on the wheel of the guy in front of you, the guy in second always wins." They were clearly horrified by my statement.

I woke this morning at 6, got up and went to the track. My toe is indeed broken, and I'm such a badass I still did seven laps, 4 running. But now I fear that I will be punished for my wanton disregard of the toe. Could somebody please call John Goodman and see if he can get me a toe.

Little Black Plastic Bags

The Parketery (we live beside a cemetery - I prefer to call it a Parketery, or Dog Poo Park depending) provides these bags for the dog walkers to collect the reward their dogs leave them every morning as a thank you for talking them for a walk. I watch person after person stand and watch their dog have a shit, then bend over to pick it up with the bag careful placed over their hand like a glove. I would very much like to resurrect me darling grandfather, and R's darling grandfather and put them in our chairs. The disgust that would be hurled at the 20 year olds would be hilarious. "What in the name of Joe Jesus are they doing, what's this world come to??!!"

Today's exercise program was varied and challenging. I started just by walking the track for a few laps to warm up, then I ran laps until I got bored of running in a circle. I walked just outside the park where there are stairs and ran up and down those until my legs said "STOP!" - after I could feel the lactic acid reside a bit, I walked down to the bottom of a hill and then sprinted up. I did this 5 times. I then went back onto the track and lunged myself back to lactic acid hell. I finished with some more walking laps. I will hurt tomorrow, but I know R will take tomorrow off as he loses his mind on Tuesday and rides morning and night. So I figured I could hurt myself today.

Would like my French workbooks to come! I can't rent the villa in Provence in January if I can't speak French now can I?

Drunken Enlightenment - the Best Kind

We had friends over for dinner last night. Irish friends...'nough said. As we were pontificating over the question of age, we all came to the same conclusion. We feel no different mentally than we did when we were 20, even though now we're 40. Don't get me wrong, we may not be the assholes we were at 20, but the core of who we are has not changed. We've learned and grown and had perspectives changed by circumstance and challenge, but are still the same person. So we naturally surmised that this is probably going to be the case at 60 and so on. It became clear that it was more important than ever to get or keep our bodies in good condition because of how much it would suck to be mentally sound and have our bodies let us down. For example, I love to dance and listen to loud music. I always want to be able to drop it like it's hot. And I don't give a rat's ass if I'm too old, if "Shorty Got Low" comes on, I'm going to hit the dance floor and embarrass the shit out of whichever grandchild is being married. So maintaining an ability to bend is imperative. I do not want to be the funny grandma dancing on youtube, I want to be the badass grandma dancing on youtube.

This helped clarify why older people could be grumpy, they did not do this and are now paying the price of having a little too much eat drink and be merry. Ironically, all of this knowledge came to us as we were eating, drinking and being merry. Our poor Italian guest had quite a bit of difficulty understanding our profound discussion, but he hung in there. Not gay. Bummer. Nice kid, will have to work with what I've been given.

BUONGIORNO

Today, tonight actually, we are picking up our Italian exchange student. R brokered a deal with a colleague in Italy whereby we swap sons. Giovanni is soon 22 years old and I really hope easy to get along with, as he will be living with us for 8 weeks. I'm secretly dying for him to be gay so that I have a shopping buddy for the next 8 weeks. Can you imagine, and Italian man to shop with, that wants to shop??!!

Walked miles today, don't know how many but I just set up an app on my phone to track that sort of thing. R hasn't said anything about noticing any progress. Although he doesn't usually mention things like that for fear of offending if he says the wrong thing, or the wrong way. Maybe he's worried that if he compliments me I'll think I'm good enough and stop. Maybe, worst case scenario, there's no progress.

Ordered two French workbooks online to get ready for my French lessons in the fall. I have to make sure I'm in an intermediate class, can't bare to go through another beginner French lesson learning how to tell time and ask where the train station is. The research for the book is going well, will work on Chapter three if time allows today, which is not likely but you never know where some spare minutes will show up.

Alarming Discovery!

I noticed it last week but thought, just ignore, it will go away. It was early anyway and maybe you didn't see what you think you saw. However it happened again last night so I can't help but believe it's true. R is getting abs, like a six pack, washboard. I have flabs, which may rhyme but is oh so different! I'm not sure how to handle this, and will have to get back to you. It's a problem that's only going to get worse as he is ramping up for a race at the end of the month. No amount of butter I add to his food will make a difference because he's burning too many calories.

He said this morning on our way to workout that he was concerned because someone had to be close for me to use my pepper spray. I had that well thought out and covered already. I said I would stick my hand out showing I had pepper spray if someone started to approach and simultaneously yell "I have AIDS!"

Lights and Sirens

Fresh back from our vigorous 5am exercise in the dark, 80 degree, 91% humidity temp. R and I were checking our email, finishing up our coffee. I had just made our protein shakes. When all hell broke loose. Firetrucks and an ambulance came charging up our street and stopped. Right in front of the building with all of the pretty twenty year olds.

R said "aren't you glad we don't live across the street from an old peoples home." But I was alarmed. The pretty people, what could have possibly happened. His response, while still reading and drinking his shake, "cocaine, there's a lot of cocaine in that building." Really?? I'm not convinced, but have always been a bit naive when it came to such things.

I don't want to be carried out of my home on a stretcher. If I'm sick, I don't want to be so sick that I can't say, hey, not well, please drive me to the hospital. I don't want it to come down to an ambulance and fire truck. You're fucked if it comes down to that aren't you? I mean, not every time, but generally speaking. Then the worst thing ever happened. The stretcher came out, loaded with a person, and no one was in a hurry. They took their sweet time loading the ambulance, and when they left, they didn't turn the siren on. Damn. I wonder if there is a dog over there now without a pretty person to walk it.

Hot, Damn Hot

I never thought I would say this, but I'm glad we're exercising at 5am. It's crazy hot right now and I think that 75 at 5am is as cool as it's going to get for a while. We didn't go this morning, had to take our darling son to the airport for a trip to the homeland. It was raining anyway.

Tomorrow I am supposed to be joined by my friend the writer because she lost a bet. We'll see. Nothing exciting to report today because we spent the weekend inside. Will try and do something thrilling today so I don't bore you to death.