Think long and hard before getting tattooed on your ribcage or belly. That is all.
Thanks for sitting through the pinkwashing vitriol yesterday. It boils down to technicalities, as usual.
Komen: “The perfume we are selling contains no chemicals that elevate cancer risk. We are not at fault.”
Breast Cancer Action: “Komen is selling a perfume that contains harmful chemicals banned by the International Fragrance Association, and they are selling it under the guise of ending disease.”
KomenWatch says it best:
“Komen’s words and actions speak loudly: they are a pseudo-corporation intent on keeping itself in business by marketing pink lifestyle products under the global brand of breast cancer.”
The big C. So trendy, doncha think?
So far so good with getting veggies into every meal, but the chaos factor is so high. I’ve been running home at lunch to cook (because I run out of time in the morning to cook lunch because I’m cooking breakfast), and my kitchen looks like a dirty dish bomb exploded in it.
Trying to refine as I go?
I have no counter space to speak of. Maybe this weekend I’ll run out and get a utility table and just set it up in that open space. Might help stage things a bit.
Mis en place in my dreams.
I’ve written about this product before. Please tell Susan G. Komen for the Cure that they’ve got their heads up their collective asses by selling this product. It’s harmful (i.e., contains regulated chemicals that people should not ingest or put on their bodies), and only a small portion of each sale will be donated to any breast cancer cause.
Stay classy, Komen.
Overtraining. Stop trying to lift so heavy, he says.
I’m transferring work my abdominal muscles should be doing (but can’t, because I’m lifting to heavy too often) to my hip flexors. Hip flexors get tight, piriformis muscles get tight, then it’s all generalized hip discomfort and a restricted ability to lift heavy at all.
And I buy that. He definitely worked his magic, and I’m feeling better. He gave me a couple of (very) targeted stretches to do (ow), and encouraged me to do more planks to make sure my core is kicking more during every lift.
And that plays out. I am roughly 30 pounds behind where I used to be for deadlifts (can’t get past 175, used to be able to lift comfortably from 185 - 205) and rear squats (can’t get past about 130; used to lift from 150 - 165).
So. I’ll talk with my trainer tonight and we’ll work out slower progressions, and more cautious jumps in weight.
Trying to be more low carb, even a little primal/paleo. Eggs for breakfast, goat milk in my tea. Lunch was sauteed kale and onions with chicken. Red pepper flakes. Tamari.
When I get angry, I start keeping score.
When I start keeping score, I get angry.
Stepping away from the scorecard…
You know. Find and wear clothes that do not feel like adversaries when I put them on.
Between hating shopping, my height, my weight and underlying muscle, the finding part is going to be the most difficult phase.
However, before finding will be finding someone who does good alterations.
Watching friends run/tackle/swim/crawl the Tough Mudder on Sunday was humbling. And exhilarating. I can’t imagine ever saying yes to the challenges of this event, and there they were, throwing themselves at it. They trained hard and long to be ready for yesterday. And they made it through without breaking anything (although I wonder if they can move today). nonosays, mrplanet4, dizzyburner: you are amazing, and it was an honor. One hell of a commitment. You inspire me.
Not only did I manage to get there to see everyone off at the start, I got to see the sun rise at Clipper Gap, and morning mist on Donner Lake (I see that stretch of highway at all hours of the day and night, and have never seen the sun rise in my own home town; go fig).
I forget what a beautiful part of the world Lake Tahoe is. I joined sarabellae and her two boys for the day, and we tried as best we could to follow our friends during the event. We rode the cable car over sheer cliffs and seemingly into nowhere, yet higher on the mountain. 8,000+ feet of altitude and views of Lake Tahoe will make you remember there is still great good in the world.
It’s not really a race, not really a competition. I’m sure that sets a lot of the participants sideways, as there were a great many finely-tuned human machines in the mix. So many fit humans. I’d never seen so many so close together. Still. There were obstacles you couldn’t surmount without the help of other participants, and that was just as exciting and restorative to watch.
My experience as a spectator was different too, informed by my own training. As I watched people at the obstacles, my heart raced and I held my breath, breaking out in little sweats. The psychological challenge of each obstacle was intense, and written on everyone’s face; watching people negotiate the struggles was an equally sympathetic experience for me. It was like I could hear their muscles and minds screaming at each other at some points.
A gorgeous, amazing day.
I’m sorry I haven’t been a very good partner to you lately. It’s been crazy getting to and from Burning Man, and you deserve better treatment from me.
I know there’s a lot that needs doing. I haven’t finished cleaning up the Burning Man gear, it’s all over the house. And the car needs washing, and there’s no milk. I haven’t fixed the toilet seat either, and the floors haven’t been cleaned in over a month. I haven’t opened the mail. Or done the dishes. Or made that appointment for a mammogram. Or cooked you a sit-down meal since we came home. The laundry still isn’t done, the towels aren’t clean, and neither are the sheets.
You know how it is. Work takes up all of my day time, and my workouts wipe me out in the evening. Sometimes all I can do is come home, push the covers back, and go to bed. All the more so after the challenges of the desert.
And I didn’t move the car quick enough this morning, I’m so sorry about the parking ticket. I forgot it was Wednesday.
So. If you can, please forgive my shortcomings, and be patient with me. I don’t love you any less just because I can’t get it all done. It’s going to take me a while to get things back where you want them. And by a while, I mean maybe another three weeks or more.
At least we have each other, and the basics are covered. The rent and mortgage are paid. I did manage to put gas in the car, and I’m glad we have so many leftovers to feed us since we cooked so much before we left for the desert. That’s been really nice.
We’ll have our shit back together by Halloween, I promise.
In the meantime, thanks for hanging in there. I love you.