16 Feb 2010

R: During the week, I divide my time between three different places: my apartment, work, and the gym. Recently I switched to the McBurney YMCA because of their 25-yard pool and proximity to my apartment (one avenue over, two blocks down). However, I have yet to venture into the watery depths due to my anxiety about swimming in the same lane as six other people (exaggerating) and about swimming after months of not swimming (truth). I figure once I can get myself to wake up at 5 a.m. to get in the pool before the die-hards show up, I can get back in the groove. For now I'll stick to the other stuff (i.e. cardio machines, weight room, classes).

The problem is I know I'll get bored so I signed up for a free personal fitness program - the fact that it's free should have tipped me off. While I feel Ruth is probably a fantastic if a little whacked person, as a coach she's certainly wanting. First of all, when I came in for my orientation to the program she was wearing a granny-mall-walker outfit complete with fannypack. Second of all, she took my concerns about my back injury to mean that I wanted a work-out that would only strain people over the age of 60. I told her I couldn't run and instead of suggesting I swim - which I hinted I would prefer - she wrote in 20 minutes of power-walking on the treadmill and acted like the only reason I was walking was because I was too lazy to run and not because I'm carrying around a titanium eiffel tower in my back. (She made a point to say that unlike me, she was an active and enthusiastic runner).

Sadly enough, after working late, eating little and getting locked out of my apartment today, I didn't even have enough energy for the full granny circuit Ruth had created for me.

C: There is a deceptively great number of colors going on in this photo. I had been missing the snow, almost jealous of my former home state and its white winter shroud. Pete (a local weatherman, of youtube infamy) turned out to be correct, and dozens of businesses and universities did not needlessly close their doors either. I am still skeptical about the predictions later this week (how can it snow if the high is well-above freezing point?), but I was excited for the snow today.

At least briefly. It was just beginning to come down in those fluffy, down-like flakes as I walked to work this morning, but as I left this afternoon, I quickly remembered why I hate the weather here so much. The weekend was cold, but beautifully sunny, and for the most part, bearable. Today was slushy, wet and icy. Oy. Houston, here I come?