We returned home from Denver on Monday evening to an energetic, very excited puppy! It's great to know the legends of dog loyalty appear that maybe they could be true. There was no exercising for me on Tuesday as I settled into unpacking and organizing and grocery shopping. On Wednesday night, I actually made it to the gym after work for a run on the treadmill. I thought I might see some of my peeps there but perhaps with the chill in the air, they were too weak to leave home. Who knows? I ran three miles in 36 minutes and had to stop twice (yes, twice) to tie my respective shoelaces. I think I need that gizmo that toddlers have to keep their laces tied tight all day. And I need a new pair of running shoes on top of that. I realize I bought mine when I did the half marathon more than two years ago. Yep, time to bite the bullet and see how much I can talk myself into enjoying the thought of spending $100 on a pair of running shoes. Maybe I'll be like the Africans or some of the other great ancient runners and forget the shoes altogether ...
On Thursday night I forced myself to my first Bikram yoga class in a long time. Like, maybe two months ago, that's how long of a time it has been. But dammit, I paid more than $200 for this stupid package of classes and I'll be ashamed if I let the classes run out on my lazy, unmotivated ass. Seriously, I was so annoyed with driving to Plymouth that I was already contemplating writing a post called "The love affair goes sour." However, I perked up when I saw that class was being led by my favorite instructor. Some of them are like drill sergeants who make you feel like a lazy slob for not attempting each pose 100 percent. I knew I was not ready for a class of that style yet. So I slogged through the sweat-soaked 90 minutes with a passable determination. Now that I'm not going out of town on the weekends, perhaps I'll be able to pick up more classes. Cheers.
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