Friday morning = successful as all get out.

So last night I went to my cousin AJ’s house to have dinner with a few of her friends and her fiance, Dan. We had chicken cordon bleu, which was DELICIOUS, and baked potatoes, and spinach with feta, tomatoes, onion, and garlic. So good. We also had deviled eggs for appetizers, which had avocado in them. Let me tell you: so good, I could die and go to heaven.

But, after eating that, I knew. I knew that I had to get up at 5:45 this morning and go to the gym. Because I couldn’t go after work today (I have drinks AND a dinner, two groups of friends) and I don’t have a lunch today, so I have to eat out. You see my dilemma.

So, after promising myself I’d be getting Jamba Juice for lunch, and maybe a side salad with no dressing, and after getting into bed at 10:08, I really saw no reason to not get up. I would still get nearly 8 hours of sleep. I would have worked out before coffee, before Stephanie Miller, before whatever crazy thing awaited me at work.

But wait, I said to myself. I would have to shower at the gym. That requires sandals, clothes, a towel, shampoo, etc. I voiced this opinion out loud to Jeff. Who replied, “Well, why don’t you go to the gym, come back, and then shower at home?”

So I did. 5:22, my alarm went off, and I had to convince myself to get out of bed. Which I did, at 5:45. I got up, got dressed, brushed my teeth (which I totally deserve brownie points for), and got all my stuff together. I went down to the car. I got in. I drove. I got to the gym, I parallel parked (more brownie points), and got into the gym. At 6:08, I was getting on the treadmill.

I forgot my socks. I ran for 2 minutes and nearly died. I walked on an incline, as Nikki told me to. I ran again. I slowed down. I walked. I ran for 2 minutes (from 8 minutes to 10) and then jumped off. Enough was enough. I switched to the bike. After all — I had no SOCKS. I biked for 5 minutes, trying to tell the bike how long I wanted to workout for, and finally did. Then 15 minutes doing rolling hills at level 10. While I biked, I tried to convince myself that no, my lungs are NOT actually going to fall out, and I tried to watch Charmed, which is just bad in the later seasons, no matter how tired you are.

I hopped off the bike at 6:44, weary, but done. Done for the day. Ready for coffee. Ready for work. I went home, showered, whispered to Jeff that he owed me ten dollar.s (He double dog dared me that I wouldn’t go.) I got to work at 7:59. On time, for the first time in probably a week. (Or two, if I’m being honest with myself.)

This weekend is busy, and I am glad I worked out this morning so I feel less guilty having a beer tonight, and maybe having a fistful of tortilla chips at dinner…

Herbs = planted.

Out my kitchen window. Beautiful weekend.

Oh, I have an hour until I have to bike to yoga? Sure, let me just clean out the fridge, put away the veggies I bought, do the dishes, put the dishes away, re-pot my plants, make a pot of coffee, and change, quickly. (Note the Tupperware to the right, the potting soil to the left.)

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A continued battle: my feet.

Now, all of you who are constant readers know that my feet and I don’t always get along. As I type, I am rolling my feet on tennis balls, hoping to loosen my muscles before Yoga tonight. They tend to get tight during Yoga, when I need them to keep me in tree or triangle or warrior 3, and so I am hoping this will help the day.

Last night, I jumped on an elliptical machine, hoping to try something new. I set the time to twenty minutes, after spending five minutes trying to figure out exactly how to WORK the machine. (it kept telling me my target heart rate of 160 was unsafe, what?) Then I just listened to my tunes, trying not to fall off the machine or knock anyone around me. This proved harder than I thought, and around minute 10 I was sure I was going to fall off. I tried to hold onto the longer supports with my hands, but that only made it worse, and I nearly flung myself into the bike machines. So I kept them on the middle supports, heart rate monitor broken.

My feet slowly revolted, saying “no, thanks” and I began to slow down. I eventually got off (at 20 minutes) and went over to the bikes. Ahh, 10 minutes of a hard cardio workout. That’s better. Nikki insists if I walk on an incline or run I’ll be OK, but after my feet hurting that much, I don’t know. I guess I’ll only know if I try, which I intend to do: soon. Real soon. For now, I’ll stick to 11 mile bike rides, yoga, and the occasional kick boxing.

What are all of you doing for exercise these days?