Here I am at week 3, and the road is not quite as straight as the one pictured to the left, but at least I am making progress.
Working out is going well. I have missed a couple days; as my milage increases for marathon training, I'm finding that I do need some rest days here and there. I am still down 2 pounds (no net loss this week) but overall doing well. I even checked out a sprint triathalon in June, which may be my next endeavor, once the marathon in completed.
Guitar, not so good. Still getting a little sad when I play it. It seems so bizarre that after doing well and NOT stewing for a while, all of a sudden those old feelings of loss can come back so strongly. I'm trying for a couple days a week, and hopefully to continue with this (and maybe increasing frequency) in the weeks to follow. I really do enjoy it. I just have to claim it back as my own.
One weird think this week that seemed to bring back those feelings of sadness was, of all things, going to Costco. They had all those little sample stations around where you could try the apricot juice or cocktail weenies or frozen PB&J samages. I was immediately swept up with the memories of me pushing the giant Costco cart around, all loaded up with 7 cases of flavored water and thousands of AAA batteries while M ran from sample to sample, essentially getting all his nutrition for the day. "Why can't you keep up?" he'd wonder and I'd get all pissed off: "You push this stupid cart and see how fast you go!" And it seemed so funny. We were one of those bickering couples in the store that everyone else rolled their eyes about. What a strange thing to miss. What a strange thing to make you feel sad.
Anyway, on a completely different note, I was able to get a "going out top". Yea! Not a moment too soon. Did I mention that I hate shopping? I hate it, I hate it, I hate it. So sad that my most successful shopping excursion was online. It should arrive in the mail any day now. God, I hope it fits!
And I am a little over 100 pages into Wuthering Heights. Not what I expected. I gotta be careful how much I read before bed, cause it gives me nightmares! And I must say, my vocabulary is definitely improving from my time with this book. Talk about verbose! However, I am a little disturbed by how much Emile Bronte likes to use the word ejaculated to describe shouting or blurting out something. Are we a little frustrated in some way, maybe? Jeez!
So, if I want to finish this book by the end of January, I gotta get crack a lackin! And one trip to the movies to go.
So as January starts winding down, I'm traipsing down the road under the shade of the oaks. Or something like that....