When did I get this old?

I'm a bad ass. I know this. I'm a rock star and a super mom. Yes, this is obvious.

But I'm getting old.

I've been going to kickboxing. Yes, I'm that awesome.I'm even Uber Awesome as my trainer told me last night because I stayed for two classes. That's right, two hours of nonstop kickboxing and strength training.

Today I can't feel my right arm. Okay, that's a lie. I can feel it and it hurts. I can barely move it. Everything from my shoulder to my elbow.

This sucks.

My mortality is catching up to me. I can already see that light at the end of the tunnel. Or the flame, you know, whichever.

My youngest daughter just turned 15. I will be mid-fortyish this year. WTF happened?

When did time become so fleeting?

When did my body start breaking down and how come nobody has come up with a cure for that yet?

I need a body mechanic.

Do you know where I can find one?

Throwing it out there Thursday

I, yet again, changed the name of my Thursday blog.  Sometimes I have no idea what to write about, so I'm just going to throw some crap out there and see what sticks.

First off, I started a new video series, Middle Aged Angst.  Check it out on Youtube, tell me what you think.  The video quality isn't very good.  I used a different program than I normally do and it pretty much sucked.

A cat tried to make me its mother last night.  He sat there and meowed at my door forever.  I finally gave him some turkey, then eventually let him in the house.  He didn't have a collar.  He walked around, sniffed stuff, then went outside.  I quickly closed the door behind him because I don't want a pet.  This morning I remember why, my eyes itch like crazy.  REALLY allergic to that cat.  Time to bring out the vacuum. He (or she, whatever) was really cute though. 

I made some hella strong coffee this morning.  You know, when you're making coffee and there's only a little bit left in the bag, so you throw it in, but then your coffee is stronger than _______ (fill in the black, I could not come up with anything).  And then you're buzzing around all day like you just drank 50 cans of Jolt (yes Jolt).


Oh, the class of 2k12 has a video coming up on WriteOnCon today at 5:30 Eastern (created by yours truly).  It's very inspiring, you should go watch it.
I think that's all I'll bore you with today.  Peace out.

The Shape of Me

Why oh why is it so hard to get into shape, but so easy to fall out of it. It takes months and months of eating right and excercise for me to feel good in my own skin, but only a week of slacking to make me feel like a total slob.


And don't even get me started on motivation. It takes me forever to get to the point where I want to excercise every day. Once I'm there, I'm good. But it only takes a couple days to fall back out of that habit.

My goal was to be in the best shape of my life by the time I hit forty. I was almost there. And then came the cruise. The cruise destroyed my entire committment to my program. The drinking, the laying around, the gluttony, made it so easy to forget all about my goals and become lazy.


Of course, the week long illness after I returned from said trip did not help either. After that, I was totally and completely out of my routine. No more excercise.

Also before the cruise, I was not eating much meat. Now that barbecue season is upon us, I'm back to being a carnivore again, in a big way, like I'm making up for those months of not having it.

So now that I feel a little softer, and a little more sluggish, and feel I have done my body a great disservice, I'm finally getting motivated again, starting slowly, but I know I'll regain some speed. It's almost motivation enough to have my Wii fitness coach remind me that I haven't been getting to my work outs regularly (I hate her).

I guess there is always forty-one.

A Cyst Like Me

Did you know that the skin on your back is the thickest skin on your body? Neither did I until I was lying on my doctors table yesterday, anesthetized with Novocaine as she cut through mine. You see, I've had this lump on my back since high school. No big deal, right? Just a tiny little lump, no bigger than a huge pimple (which is what I thought it was for a few years, a perpetual pimple) in the middle of my back. I've asked around about it, my dad, who through his profession (not a doctor) if very knowledgeable when it comes to medical stuff. Also, my doctor. "It's just a cyst, no biggee. But if it ever changes, grows, or becomes painful, you'd better have it looked at." And, the fact that it was right on my spine was a little troublesome to boot.

So, I've lived with thing for approximately 28 years. Yes, 28. And though I didn't like it, and thought it was ugly, it never bothered me. Until Sunday.

Sunday I woke up with a horrible pain in my back. I reached back, felt it, and this lump, literally seemed to have grown at least three sizes overnight. Now, I'm sure it didn't happen overnight, but that's the way it seemed. I asked my husband, Rusty, if it looked weird. He said it had a funny white patch on it that he had never seen before.

I thought it was strange, and it hurt, but I went through my day, excercising, writing, cleaning, the normal stuff. I went to bed.

I woke up and the thing was aching. I had Rusty look at it again, and he said that now there was something on it that looks like a scab or mole. Needless to say, I was at that point, and excuse my language, scared shitless.

I made an appointment to get this thing checked out, and had to wait two more days. So for two days I was stewing, fretting, freaking out, really. Trying with all my might not to think about the "C" word.

That brings me to the beginning of my post, with me, lying on the table, back split open, my doctor tugging, pulling, ripping, cutting at this thing trying to dig it out. All of it. So it doesn't come back. Meanwhile, I pray she doesn't slip with the scalpel and paralyze me, avoid the question I should be asking because I'm not sure I want to hear the answer.

Finally she read my mind, "Oh, and by the way, this is benign." By the way. An afterthought for her, an obsession for me. Sigh. I could finally relax. Or maybe not? I mean, I just turned forty, what more is in store for me in this middle life and the years to come? What am I doing? Am I happy? Am I making others happy? Can I reach my goals? Am I making a difference? Or am I going to be like that cyst, unnoticed until it's almost too late, then taken out before I have the opportunity to impact the world around me?

Only time will tell, I guess.