Category Archives: exercise – sort of

Game On!

I posted on Facebook yesterday that I was plowing my way through all the candy in our house (a lot) before starting my diet on Tuesday. A friend mentioned an article that says the most successful dieters don’t tell others that they are on a diet.

The funny thing is I typed out that status and paused. I wasn’t sure I wanted to “announce” a diet. I hate dieting and truthfully, have only had to think about dieting for the last 10 years of my life.

So why, you ask, are you writing a whole post about dieting? Well, I reply, I may have found my dieting niche. I certainly hope so.

The Game On! Diet  has a lot of what other diets have – being aware of calories (not necessarily counting them unless you want to), adding exercise, cutting out sugar, yada, yada.

But it also has a 4 week time frame. I like that. A lot.

It also is a competition. I like that too. A lot.

You basically team up with a friend or two and take on another couple of friends. You keep score of a lot of things – it looks scary at first, but then it really does begin to make sense. And you get to talk trash to the other team. Ha. I might be good at this. And of course, encourage your own teammates.

The book was written by Krista Vernoff (executive producer of Grey’s Anatomy) and Az Ferguson. Krista is f-u-n-n-y. I laughed out loud many times reading the book. Did you catch that? I laughed out loud reading a diet book.

In addition to the good foods in, bad foods gone, no soda (not a biggie for me), no alcohol, you also get points for 7 hours of sleep a night, implementing a good habit (of your choice) and quitting a bad habit (of your choice), and drinking a ton of water (3 liters a day – even for a water drinker like me, that’s a LOT of water.)

It’s really a lifestyle change more that a diet but if I said I was eating all the candy in my house before my life style change on Tuesday, well, it just doesn’t sound the same. Besides, it’s a four-week lifestyle change. After that I get to re-evaluate.

The best part? Are you still with me? (Or did I lose you at no soda and no alcohol?) You get a cheat day. One day a week of eating and drinking whatever you want (except soda. There’s a whole chapter on why soda is the devil.) And one extra meal not on your cheat day to eat whatever you want. Plus 100 calories a day of whatever you want. So I still get to have one lovely piece of chocolate every day.

See? See! A diet that includes competition, trash talk, chocolate and sleep. YeeeeHawww!

I’ll let you know how I do. And hopefully I didn’t just jinx myself even more by talking about it.

Oh, and if anyone is interested in joining – let me know!

(P.S. I received squat for writing this. I sound like an ad, but it’s just me, drinking the kool-aid. Well, not kool-aid, because that has a lot of sugar in it, but you know what I mean. The lovely people of Game On! have never heard of me.)


what’s a party without a little punch?

Not too long ago, Mike and I went to a wedding party for friends of ours. It was a local celebration at a bar for a wedding that took place a few states away. What could be better than celebrating a wonderful occasion with great friends?

A punching bag, apparently.

From across the bar, I watched Mike and a few of the guys taking turns punching the crap out of a mechanical punching bag.

“This is not going to end well,” I said.

“Someone is going to get hurt,” I said.


There are some people who will tell you I’m a little competitive.

And, I will concede that is probably true. OK, it is. It’s true.

As evidenced by later in the evening when the girls started taking turns punching the mechanical punching bag which would give you a score of how hard you hit. Mike was in the lead for the guys.

Now is when I tell you I had never hit anything with my fist, ever in my life. I didn’t even really know how to make a fist. I knew there was some trick to not tucking your thumb so it wouldn’t break, but that’s as far as my knowledge went.

After a couple rounds, I was solidly in second place and was actually OK with that. I now know which of my friends should stay to fight and which should run for help if we are ever in a dark-alley fight. I’m not messing with Anne.  And Shab may be small, but she is mighty.

So second place. I could live with that. It was respectable enough. I had lost a few games of dart earlier in the evening, but we kept it close. Heck I hadn’t even thrown darts for 9 or so years. (You see how I slipped that in? I can’t help myself.)

We were saying our goodbyes when another friend offered me one last swing. Oh, yes, we got to pay to punch the bag. Our evening net someone a pretty penny at a dollar a hit.

“Sure,” I said, wanting one more time to see how I would score.

You know how this ends, right?

Yep, I thought I broke my wrist for a moment. Then by the time we actually left, I thought it was more of a sprain. It was sore for a few days but ended up feeling completely fine after a week or so.

But my fingers? Ugh. I mashed my knuckles good. Three of my fingers ache pretty much all the time. I’m hoping whatever damage I did isn’t permanent because hurting my hand on a stupid punching bag would be something only an idiot would do.

I was right though from the very beginning. Someone was going to get hurt, I just didn’t know it would be me.


The other day on a Target run for toilet paper and paper towels, we happened down the detergent aisle. I always buy fragrance free detergent and we still had a fairly large jug at home, but I was drawn to the detergent. I thought, what the heck? and bought a big ol’ jug of scented detergent. (I know, I live dangerously.) (I also know that two of the people who live in our house are boys and well, it’s been hot, and well, they kind of stink.)

Anyway, we bought our no fun $80 worth of toilet paper, paper towels, detergent and feminine products (how I hate to spend $80 and get such boring stuff) and I didn’t give it another thought.

I was sitting in bed yesterday afternoon reading a book. (In the middle of the day!) Maggie was in her room and Nick was watching a show. It was quiet and peaceful. It was like we had finally gotten the hang of summer. It started to rain a bit. I settled in a little deeper into my bed, because the only thing better than reading during the day is snuggling up to read on a rainy day.

A few minutes later Maggie came down to join me because “the lightning was freaking her out.” She was in my room for about 4 minutes before I jumped up a little panicked realizing I needed to check the basement.

See, we have a basement that has flooded on more than one occasion. The great flood of last year being the worst by far. We lost the carpeted portion of our basement, a nice leather couch, a water heater, and all the drywall.

I ran down the stairs much like I did last year upon realizing how much rain had come in such a short time. It was already wet on 1/3 of the basement and water was pouring in under the door. Usually, for such a small amount of rain this means that the french drain outside the door has gotten clogged with leaves. I opened the door and to about 6 inches of water which came flooding in before I could slam the door closed again.

Maggie was really freaking out now.

Did I mention the lightning? There was lots. I ran outside to try to unclog the drain when I realized the drain wasn’t the problem. The sump pump wasn’t emptying.

Now I was beginning to freak out.

Luckily we left the lowest shelves in the basement empty so if we could keep the water low, we wouldn’t need to move much. So I just had to get the water to stop. But how?

Well, naturally, I would grab the loads of clean, folded towels and blankets that were right within reach to try to plug up the door. (Or at least to make the water not sound so ominous as it poured in.)

I unplugged the sump pump and plugged it back in. I tried the breaker.

And then I gave up and called Mike in a panic.

He headed home, but I knew with the speed at which water was still coming in, that something had to be done.

I kept imagining a lightning strike hitting any of the yard which was now like a wading pool. I also had to unplug many things in the basement while standing in an inch of water. Not my favorite way to spend an afternoon.

I blocked the main flow of water outside with a big piece of wood. That at least changed the flow of water so that all the water coming from the roof wasn’t riding the gutter to the basement stairs and into the house.

By now the whole floor had about 2 inches. I goofed around with some little containers, but there wasn’t even anywhere to bail it to. The rain was coming so fast and hard. It took 40 minutes to flood what took over a day during last year’s flood. It.Was.Freaky.

Mike got home, rigged up our secondary/temporary sump pump and emptied all the water out within an hour or two. The rain stopped and the sun came out. Our street which was completely underwater at 3:30 was completely clear by 4:45.

sump pump

I grilled chicken outside for dinner. It was so bizarre. If you weren’t home for any of it, you would have no idea what had happened. (Well, we would have because our stuff was floating.)

As soon as the road cleared, the sump pump had somewhere to pump the water and our main pump turned out to be fine. I was convinced it had to be broken for that much water to back up so quickly, but I was wrong. It was a freaky, fluke of a storm that dumped 3.5 inches of water in less than an hour.

Mike worked most of the evening to make the temporary pump permanent. Now all I have to do is plug it in if we ever need it.

Did you know water that runs off your roof, into dirt, around a corner, down the basement steps and under a door gets quite dirty?

It does.

So today? Today I have re-washed countless loads of laundry with our scented laundry detergent, but we didn’t lose our water heater or our new washer and dryer and for that I am grateful.

fat fingers

I am 3 1/2 months away from turning 40. And I’m fine with that. I feel wiser with every year that passes.

What I am not fine with, is my metabolism. Apparently mine decided 39.5 years was enough and it went on permanent vacation. When I locate it, it’s going to get a beating stern talking to.

I never worried about my weight other than occasionally deciding to lose 5 or so pounds. In fact, after my adrenal surgery back in my 20s, I was nothing more than a skeleton with skin and actually worked hard to gain weight.

Memory is a funny thing, isn’t it? Back in my 20’s seems like just a few years ago. Not 15 years ago.

Anyway, back to my fat fingers. My fingers are now a full ring size bigger than they were 12 years ago. How do I know this? Because I just paid through the nose to have my platinum wedding rings resized so that I can wear them.

The jeweler told me that he would not charge me to resize them back down, you know, if I ever needed that.

Gee, thanks.

wimpy toes

Have you ever had a toenail fall off? (If that’s not a red flag of where this post is going, you are color blind.)

I figure it’s not that uncommon. I lost my big toenail years ago after jamming it during a softball game. I was a bartender at the time, and wore a sock and sandal on that foot for weeks while the new toenail grew in.

Fun times.

A few months ago, my son backed up and stepped on my toe (with all 47 pounds of weight right at the base of my toenail.) It hurt A LOT, but at the time I didn’t think much about it.

That was a few months ago. It has been sore ever since. Like, had to stop training for the 1/2 marathon sore.

I tried to walk through the pain, but I’m apparently a wimp.

I tried to rest it and then begin training again, which I thought was actually working, until I walked 1.5 miles the other day and it’s been hurting again ever since.

So I get to claim a toe injury for bailing on the marathon. How lame.

The weird part is, I swear that toenail has stopped growing. I have trimmed my other 9 toenails twice but that one hasn’t moved a millimeter. I would not be surprised if it fell off. My husband thinks I’m nuts and insists it would be black and blue if was going to fall off. He may very well be right (on both counts) and I don’t expect it to fall off, but I wouldn’t be surprised. There’s a difference.

Oh, and I haven’t finished my great american novel because I have a hangnail. Pfft.



I am talking about going the distance today over on Nashville Parent. Check it out!


Well, I peeled wallpaper most of the morning. And Mike and I finished the rest tonight. We have decidedly different styles of wallpaper removal. I’m trying to remember that I’m not always right. (There is that 1% of the time when I’m wrong…)

Anyway, my brain is fried from thinking all day. (What else are you supposed to do when staring at a wall and picking at glue?)

And I’m writing this on my phone, so forgive my brevity.

NaBloPoMo is making me a tad grumpy right now. Deep thoughts, tomorrow. OK?