Whining.

Dang. They’ve gone and changed the workout classes at the gym again. I was warned that the class schedules would change about every quarter. Which, certainly, yeah, is understandable, but don’t be messing around with my schedule! As I noted, I’m challenging myself to daily gym workouts -- cross-training challenges muscles that aren’t used as much when you run.

But… sigh. They’ve deleted the Thursday evening Studio Cycle class. That class was the perfect spinning class for me. Not too hard, but with enough coaching from the instructor that I got a good workout. I was getting better and better at it too. Now my only choice for spinning-type classes is the more advanced “Cycle 60.” The instructors for that class are a bit more critical when they think you're slacking (no, I would never, ever do that), and it’s all about pace, pace, pace (Or maybe rate? Or count?). It’s all about keeping up the rate your feet go around while making it harder and harder to pedal. And Keeping Your Heart Rate Up. Which, OK, but I prefer a kinder, gentler class. And also, I feel inferior to the hardbodies who take the class regularly, training for the Tour for Cure or whatever.

I know I’ll take up another class, and I’ll ride my bike this weekend, but I’ll whine about this change for a while. At least that’s all there is to whine about these days!

So I haven't been here and Who Cares Anyhow

Hullo, nonexistent audience. Haven’t been here in a while, more than a while, actually. I’ve been 1) busy at work; 2) busy at home and 3) just plain busy catching up. With everything except my blog.

I may have noted previously that I have a great job that I love. I do. I’m mostly married to it and I’m happy being so. Sometimes the togetherness is too much, though, you know? So I’m happy now that work has slacked off a bit, I’m back to having every other Friday off, and I can do things other than fall face first into my Spaghetti-Os in the evening.

So I’ve been working out like a “real” athlete, meaning hitting the gym every day, to make up for slacking off to “when I can fit it in” (Which to be honest, not all that much). I've been gathering evidence to prove to the Tax Man that no, my house is not worth even close to what he thinks, and if it were I'd totally sell it. I've been taking pictures and trying my hand at editing them all artsy and stuff. I cooked! Tried new recipes!! And, I've been to see my friends, who live only a Southwest Hour away, and who recently presented this little guy to the world:



Ain't he cute? I call him Zinfandel, or Zinny. In this pic he's only 5 days old. I was lucky to get up there during pre-work-overload time(and that was pre-blog, too, now I remember) for a few days just after he was born. This most recent trip, he's a remarkable 4 month old. And his brother, at 7, was having his first lesson on a dirt bike. Not to be missed. So natch, the visit up there was more important than the therapy this provides.

Here's me and his big bro (Hurricane, or H-man) and Zinny on the first trip.



Now, isn't that a good reason not to blog? Instant therapy. Kids that aren't mine.