Tag Archives: health

A New Start on Tired Tuesday

Here I sit, on Tired Tuesday, feeling, you know.  Additionally, I fear I am coming down with the same bug which has ailed my husband for two days.  Or my allergies are acting up again.  Or I am just a common or garden dizzy broad (I KNOW which one you think it is) (you know who you are).  Nevertheless, a blog post must be made.  Because I say it does, dammit!

One of my favorite things to do to procrastinate writing my blog post is to read other blogs, many of which handily pop up as soon as I log in to WordPress.  Today I read “Return of the Modern Philosopher” and was encouraged.  This fellow is doing a lot and still progressing on a screenplay!  Additionally, two of the things he does are write a blog and write for a TV show.  Two WRITING things.

What this means for me is, I have to stop coasting.  I can’t just say, “Well, at least I am making my blog post.  That’s writing”  or  “I worked on a letter to a friend”  or  “wrote in the TV Journal.”  I stand by my rule that All Writing Counts.  However, it is clear that no matter what, I can do MORE writing.

In fact, I did try to start a new novel yesterday.  I wrote a few more notes on it today, before my dizziness drove me away from the notebook.  Well, I won’t do that again.  I will just learn how to write when I don’t feel well.  I suppose a few of you are thinking that it is too bad I did not start by making this a better blog post.  Or is that just my inner critic?  No matter.  This is what I typed, this is what I’m posting.

But after I post this,  I shall seek out a pen and paper (my favored medium of composition) and see what I can do.

 

Another Thunky Run

I was less than half a block into tonight’s run when I thought of that title and by the end of the run, I had no reason to change it.  Regular readers may recall that I used the non(according to my computer)word “thunky” to describe my last run, which was on Saturday.  And how’s this for a Freudian typo:  I first put “less than half a blog”?  At least “blog” is recognized as a word.

Once again, I almost talked myself out of running and once again, I got into my running clothes and out the door.  For one reason, I have rehearsal for Splitting Issues (the play Steven and I are in) tomorrow so I may not have time to run.  For another reason, I need some help reaching my weight-loss goals.

Now, I know what is said by weight-loss experts:  eating less is the key to weight-loss.  Moving more has WAY less effect.  Well, if all you look at is the numbers, that is true.  However, I maintain that the number of calories burned while actually exercising are only part of the story.  To encourage myself to keep thunking along, I once again re-iterated what I think of as the exponential effects of exercise (hmmm, maybe that would have been a better title; for one reason, it has the charm of alliteration) .

Exercise kicks up your metabolism.  Depending on the length and intensity of your workout, for a certain amount of time afterwards, you burn more calories than you were burning before you worked out.  I like to make use of this effect by walking a cool-down turn around the block.  Nine or ten more minutes of extra burn!  Additionally, exercise can increase the amount of muscle in your body.  Muscle burns more calories at rest than does fat.  Moreover, muscle looks better.  Even if I have not lost much weight, I can present a more toned appearance.

Even more important are the psychological benefits of exercise.  After even a bad run, I feel good about myself for having done it.  I feel stronger, healthier, and perhaps more inclined to make healthy choices when I eat.  The anti-depressant effects of exercise are well documented.  Less depressed means less likely to self-medicate with fattening food.

Fortified by these encouraging thoughts, I thunked along for 25 minutes.  When I wasn’t giving myself a pep talk, I enjoyed looking at people’s fall and Halloween decorations.  Steven and I must get going on our own decorating.  I think we should go to, for example, Pumpkin Junction in Sauquoit to get some new decorations.  That would make a dandy blog post.

 

I Judge that it is Wrist to Forehead Sunday

I did not think I was having too much white wine last night, but perhaps I was.  Or I could blame it on spending a couple hours out in the bright sunlight yesterday enjoying Herkimer’s Village-wide Garage Sales.  Perhaps the combination of the two.  In any case, I am having a Wrist to Forehead Sunday that is even more wrist-to-foreheady (you don’t have to underline that, computer, I know it is not a word) than my usual.  I’ve had a dreadful headache all day that is only just now in abeyance, after copious amounts of water, Gatorade and rest.

Those of you who feel the white wine is to blame and are shaking our head (or your fingers or your booties) in superior condemnation, don’t judge.  At least, I suppose I ought not tell people what to do.  Who am I to judge people for judging me?  For all I know they are perfectly right to do so.  Just because everybody says, “Don’t judge” doesn’t mean nobody should ever judge anybody under any circumstances.  What about federal judge or the Supreme Court?  I feel this is too complicated a question to consider.  It might bring my headache back on.

In any case, I have another bear of a week to prepare for.  Tomorrow is the postponed Much Ado at the Zoo.  That’s 6 p.m. at the Utica Zoo, local readers.  Free with admission to the zoo.  Come see the show!  We have three more performances in Little Falls, in Benton Landing and at Canal Place as part of the Canal Days celebration.  I’ll tell more about those later.  If you want more information, you can consult LiFT’s Facebook page.  You can also Like the Little Falls Canal Celebration page, for information about the whole festival.

 

Once Again, I’ve Said Too Much

This is not exactly a blogger’s sick day, but I don’t know what else to call it.  The stupidest thing happened.  Oh well, maybe not the STUPIDEST, but stupid enough to call it so, and already I am typing too much.  This morning I got a mysterious pain in my forearm, just a little above my wrist.  I didn’t worry about it, because it didn’t hurt that bad.  I just went to work and went about my business, because, you know, I work for a living.

And it kept hurting.  Off and on, with gusts of real pain followed by lengths of irritation, interspersed with increasingly shorter periods of not feeling bad at all.  I don’t think it was work related, because, well, I wasn’t working all that hard (don’t judge me), and I figured it would go away eventually.  However, I thought it would be a good idea to just mention it to my boss.  You see, if it was work-related, and it turned into something serious, and I hadn’t told anybody, I could get in big trouble.  So I always err on the side of saying something, even at the expense of feeling stupid. I know, it is not an unusual feeling for me.

My boss sent me down to the nurse.  She emphasized that she could not diagnose nor even force me to do anything, but she gave me an ice pack and some ibuprofen and suggested the following:  I should continue to ice and take ibuprofen as needed and wear a wrist brace, which she also gave me, when working.  And I should rest it.  I mentioned that I type a blog every night, and she told me I shouldn’t do that.  She said I could type a very short one, while wearing the wrist brace, and explain that I had an arm problem and would not be blogging for the rest of the week.

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?  Not blog every day?  Say it ain’t so!  Still, one does not want to aggravate an injury, or whatever it is.  And I don’t want anyone at work reading my blog and getting mad at me if my arm still hurts (oh yeah, like any of them reads my blog! I have such an ego).

So this is all of today’s post.  It is longer than I had intended, and perhaps longer than recommended, but I’m even leaving some stuff out.  What can I do?  I know, sign off before I up my word count even more.  Don’t tell the nurse, but I intend to post again tomorrow.  Perhaps I will attempt to type one handed.  Then there could be no possible objection.

 

Remember Saturday Running Commentary?

You thought it would never return, didn’t you?  I confess to some doubts myself.  However, this morning I got out of bed, into running clothes and was on the road before 6 a.m. (with my weekday overtime rising hour, 5:30 is totally sleeping in).

It was cool out, which was a nice difference from my last couple of runs.  Oh, I felt good. I had gone to bed early last night after a mere two glasses of wine so was able to congratulate myself on my forethought. It was also delightful to run at at time when traffic was sparse.  I crossed German Street with no problem and headed toward Main.

I had the idea to run up Main and across to the beginning of the path over the hydraulic canal.  I’m not up to hills yet or I may have continued up Main where there is a pretty good one.  The path was more my speed this morning.  As I ran along it, I thought I must walk it one day soon so I can pause and read the plaques that tell its history.  Maybe when I get a dog.  The dog could sniff around while I read.  Dogs like to do that.

Crossing back over German to follow the path presented no problem, but I did not stay on the whole path as originally planned.  I got distracted by a dead end street I have run down before.  There is a little space at the end where pedestrians can sneak through to another street.  I went that way, for something different.

My run was going splendidly.  I could keep this up for DAYS!  I knew that wasn’t true, of course.  In fact, one is not supposed to increase one’s run time more than 10 percent per week.  But I was having fun.  Soon I found myself on the street that ended at the parking lot of the HARC building at the end of German.  Should I run there then back down German?  I looked at my watch and tried to calculate times. I could run back down German and make it a Dead End Run, running up and down all the dead end streets on the north side of German.  Good plan!

By the time I got to the HARC building I realized there was no way I could run up and down all the dead end streets in the amount of time I wanted to run.  That was OK. I would keep my eye on the time and run up some of them.  I got around the building and looked toward Route 28.  A big dump truck was coming.  That was OK; he was going straight, not down German.

Just before I crossed the street, I saw a penny and stopped to pick it up.  It might be a penny from Heaven!  Two steps into the street I realized a car had turned onto German and was stopped to let me cross the street.  Yikes!  I waved and yelled, “Sorry!” then darted across the street and kept going up Lake Street.  I had not intended to go up Lake, thinking it might make my run too long.  However, since the car had nicely allowed me to cross the street, I didn’t feel right going on the sidewalk in the same direction.  After all, if I had only wanted to run on German Street, why hadn’t I stayed on my own side and no bothered the car?

I almost never run on Lake Street so I enjoyed to look at the houses. They run the gamut from newly worked-on to seen better days.  I especially like to see the flowers.  The street seemed long, but I ran all the way to the end.  Well, not quite the end, because at the very end some branches hung down from a tree and blocked me.  But almost the end.  Back on German Street I realized I would probably run more than 10 percent longer than my last run.  I’m sure that is all right, especially considering that I am returning to running and not building myself up for the first time.

The run was 28 minutes.  I did not run past the house.  I felt SO GOOD as I walked my cool down.  Why in the world do I ever stop running?  It is so silly of me!  Anyways, now I think I have a new Saturday run. Every week I can add another dead end street.  Then when I’m in really good shape and feeling bad-ass, I can end with a run up the hill to Herkimer College (formerly known as HCCC).  That will be something to blog about!

 

A Cup of Soup and Back to Bed

It is my five year blogiversary and I am taking a blogger’s sick day.  The irony is not lost on me.

I really don’t know what’s wrong with me.  Yes, I had wine o’clock last evening, but I didn’t go too crazy.  A few glasses with my husband, a nice dinner, some true crime television and an early bedtime.  When I woke up with a headache, I thought, “Oh well, maybe a glass too many.  I’ll have some coffee, take some aspirin, everything’ll be great.”  It was not.  The headache has gotten so bad all I can do is be in pain, and I’m having dreadful nausea.  Sorry to complain about my ills; so tiresome of me.

I have spent most of the day in bed, except for one rather interesting interlude at Ilion Little Theatre Club.  A group of us read an original play written by a local musician.  I really like it.   The plan is to present a staged reading of it at the Club’s September meeting with an eye to possibly producing it for real in December.  I’d better get going on my own play.  I’m not saying mine will be good enough to be produced, but it would be nice if I actually finished something.

Oh dear, I am just blathering on, aren’t I?  (I always think that should be “Amn’t I?”  “Am I not?” sounds too precious.)  I just hate to make a post of under 200 words.  But I see I’m over now.  Thank heaven.  As always, I’ll try for a better post tomorrow and thank you for participating.

 

But Is It Post Ironic?

It is the damnedest thing that one day you can take a daytime cold medicine and it takes the edge off your symptoms and it doesn’t particularly dope you up, then the next day you take the same damn medicine and you are high as a kite for the rest of the day. Only it’s not as much fun as, for example, the drugs all the college kids were doing in the ’70s (to be exact, I was in high school in the ’70s, and I did not do drugs, but I’ve heard).

I wasn’t really as high as a kite. I’m quite sure I was not a danger to myself or others, at least, no more so than I normally am.  I guess “high as a a kite” was a poor characterization, as well as one of those cliches we writers are supposed to avoid like the plague.  I should say “like the proverbial plague.”  I have mentioned in the past that one can transform a cliche into a hip, post-ironic turn of phrase with the addition of the word “proverbial.”   I don’t know if that is true or not, but if you call me on it, I will accuse you of being neither hip nor post-ironic.

As many readers have by now guessed, today is Wuss-out Wednesday.  I spent the morning feeling sorry that I went home early on Friday.  Who knew I was going to feel even worse today?  I suppose I could have guessed it.  I bet some of you did.  As the morning wore on, I did not feel so horribly horrible, so that was all right.  However, I had no wherewithal with which to write a blog post.

Now I am trying to type in something, anything, while I wait for Steven to get home from work.  We have rehearsal again tonight.  I hope my brain returns in sufficient force that I will be able to act like a director (get it?  We’ll be in the theatre for a play rehearsal.  I will ACT like the director, a little play within the play) (or maybe a play on words) (OK, no more cold medicine for me).

 

Not Too Whiny of a Running Commentary, I Hope

I would like to think Saturday Running Commentary is back.  However, I can’t be sure.  At least I ran this morning and I will try to write about it.

We had gotten up early for a Saturday, because I have this nagging cough that wouldn’t let me sleep (yes, more whining about my health woes, don’t judge).  Going running wasn’t even on my radar, but coffee was.  Two cups. AAaaahhhh.  I love coffee.  I also needed a shower.  Well, I didn’t want to shower and then run. One runs then showers.  So I decided to run.

By now I had been up for almost two hours.  I was quite hungry.  At this point, I would usually eat something and delay my run.  However, I had read that if you run before eating in the morning, your body will burn stored fat, not the healthy breakfast you just ate.  What a concept! I have PLENTY of stored body fat.  This was going to be great.

It has been so warm these last few days, I thought, I could probably run in shorts and short sleeves.  Um, no, my thermostat said the outdoor temperature was 30 degrees.  Leggings and long sleeves, definitely.  And my toque, of course.  After I started I wished I had searched out the extra warm running pants my sister Victoria gave me as well as a pair of gloves.  No matter.  I wasn’t going to run long.

It was 7:22 by my watch when I started out.  On a Saturday, that is still early enough for sparse traffic.  Excellent.  I could cross German Street.  I wanted to run down the path over what used to be a hydraulic canal, which begins a block beyond that sometimes difficult to cross street.  The sun was bright but still low enough in the sky that I was often in the shade of houses.  I could feel the warmth sometimes.  Ah, better.  Then not so much.  Damn.  Then I felt some breeze.  I KNOW that was not from me running fast.

After a while I could feel the wind penetrating my toque.  That was unusual, and chilly on my sweaty head.  My hands were soon stiff with cold.  No notations in the Running Journal till after my shower.  I have been quite remiss about making notes in my Running Journal.  I’ve been jotting down the date and time run on odd pieces of paper, meaning to transfer the information and, well, I just haven’t.  And now I can’t find all the odd pieces of paper. Finally I made a note in the Running Journal to that effect and once again started over.  I know, what a recurring theme for my running.  I say, at least  I DO begin again, eventually.

It wasn’t such a bad run. I started feeling tired a little more than halfway through but not too desperate to stop.  My breathing wasn’t bad, although there was no chance of doing the “in through your nose” thing.  Still, that is usually the case with me, so I tried not to let it bother me.  My throat was not best pleased with me, of course.  I did mention that nagging cough, didn’t I?

So I ended up running 25 minutes and walking for 10, the same amount I did earlier in the week.  It has perhaps been too many days between my runs, but, well, not to whine more about my health problems, but… you know.

As I was running I made the decision NOT to run this year’s Boilermaker 15K.  I do want to run more and continue to get back into shape.  I subscribe to the saying, “If you are too busy to exercise, you are too busy PERIOD.”  However, it is one thing to get exercise and quite another to train for a challenging 15K road race.  I can still get plenty of Running Commentary blog posts.  As always, I hope you’ll stay tuned.

 

Definitely an LP, not a 45

What does one do when one is striving NOT to indulge in a Non-Sequitur Thursday post but cannot think of anything  worth writing a blog post about?

I actually have a delightful local business I have been writing about today, but that was for an article to submit to Mohawk Valley Living.  Don’t tell anybody, but it is not going as well as I had hoped.  One problem is that I cannot find the notebook I had with me the day we visited the place.  I remember some of the things I took notes about but cannot remember the notes themselves.  It is most distressing. I think I will be able to finish the article anyways, but I’m afraid it will not be as good.

As any writer can tell you, Fear of Not Being Good Enough can be paralyzing.  What is it called?  Inadequaphobia?  Probably nothing that explanatory.  It’s probably something derived from the Latin meaning “doesn’t have her act together.”  I should have taken a course in Latin.

It does not help that my spring allergies have kicked in big time.  I suppose it could also be a cold or the flu or some undefined virus.  Who ever knows what’s wrong with me anyways?  At any rate, I feel like crap and I am trying to get my work done while reminding myself that nobody want to hear AGAIN how lousy I feel.  What a broken-record kvetch I am!

For younger readers (if any)  that does not mean I broke a record for being the biggest kvetch (although that could be true as well).  It has to do with vinyl records on a turntable.  Get your grandparents to explain.

Now I’m thinking, “Oh, hell, my blog readers probably don’t want to hear about it either.” That is a problem.  Perhaps I can come up with another idea by the end of the day.

Well, obviously I did not.  However, I did get my article written and submitted.  Also, I’m feeling worse than ever and I don’t care who’s sick of hearing me complain.  Yes, I’m indulging in Non-Sequitur Thursday.  Now I’m going to indulge in Going Straight to Bed.

 

Baby Fat

Oh dear, I just sat here looking at the blank computer screen and watching the end of an episode of Reba.  It is a silly show but not without charm.  Uh, I mean, I never watch television.  I don’t have time to watch television, let alone a foolish half-hour sit com.

We all know that’s not true, at least anybody who has read many of my blog posts.  Hell, just yesterday I was talking about Galavant, and that’s one of the classier shows I watch.  How many times have I hurried through my post so I could get back to watching World’s Dumbest, a show which is sadly missing from the schedule many days lately (I’m not ending this with a question mark, because it was rhetorical).

OK, I’m just rambling.  The reason I’m rambling is that I do NOT want to take another Blogger’s Sick Day.  And yet, here I sit. My throat is sore, my head aches, and I have that all-around crappy feeling.  I believe it is nothing worse than a common or garden cold this time, but you know what a big fat baby I am about these things.

I believe there is a theory that I could strive to be less of a big fat baby.  As a matter of fact, I have already taken steps in that direction.  Today was my first day back on the South Beach Diet.  I don’t really expect to be less of a big baby, but I hope that soon I will be less fat.