Transitions

Last Updated on March 20, 2014 by Heather Hart, ACSM EP-C

One of the most dreaded statements friends hate to hear (and say) is “hey, want to help me move this weekend?”  The impact of the blow of such a request is usually lessened with the offer of pizza and beer, but deep down everyone knows:  moving is a giant pain in the ass.

The silence around this url the past week is not without good reason.  I have about 5 different blog posts in the editing stage, but each one has been interrupted by the packing of  numerous boxes.  We are moving, this weekend if all pans out the way it should, and despite the hassle of moving incredibly awkward furniture, I couldn’t be more excited.   This place holds more memories than I ever imagined a tiny apartment could, but it’s time for us to go.   And not one downstairs-neighbor-blasting-Lynyrd Skynyrd-moment too soon. 

Stuff. And things.

Summer will be spent with a large back yard for the kids (young and adult-kids alike) to run around in.  A porch in the sun to enjoy our morning breakfasts and weekend happy hour microbrews.  And a room with a desk designated to be my office.  Oh…and closets.  Imagine the luxury!  I can’t even tell you how giddy I am over all of this.   Not to mention the thrill of downsizing…despite moving into a bigger dwelling.  There truly is nothing like moving to help you realize how much “stuff” you have, the majority of which is completely unnecessary.

So that was a long winded excuse to simply say that packing and working has consumed my days, blogging temporarily put on hold.  So in the meantime, I hear a Thursday trend in the blog world is “three things Thursday“.  For the sake of publishing some sort of content, here you go:

1) My little sister doesn’t work out. At all. I’ve clearly not rubbed off on her AT ALL.  I’m a little ashamed.   But her boyfriend has coerced her into a sport I would have never suspected her to take to: downhill mountain bike racing.   It is the epitome of what the word “gnarly” embodies.   The premise of this sport is to fly down a super muddy, technical trail on a bike while holding your butt up off of the saddle.  Ladies: think the public toilet squat, and you’ll get the idea.     This girl (my sister) needs some serious glute, quad, and hamstring strength, and I’ve taken it upon myself to make sure she podiums.   Stay tuned for more on this story.  And Cathy, if you just read this…30 squats. Right now. GO. 

I only made her put on the gear for a photo op, though in retrospect, working out in full gear might not be a bad idea. (the photobombing dog was added for the element of surprise. As in “Surprise! Watch out for that tree!”)

2) This.  Did you see this? Beat the Blerch…the race.  It pains me that it is in Washington STATE.  OH FOMO!!! There is no room in the non existent travel budget for the West Coast, so please, someone, go and go-pro this race, upload it to youtube, and let the rest of us live vicariously through you.  

If you have no idea what this refers to, you must read “The terrible and wonderful reasons why I run long distances” by the Oatmeal.

 3) Speaking of moving, the other day I was carrying Geoff’s time trial bike down to the car.  I made it three narrow flights of stairs without even brushing the wall with the bike.  As soon as I reached the parking lot, I hit a patch of ice and ate it.  In true athlete form, I spared the bike from any damage…mostly by breaking it’s fall with my entire body.  It survived unscathed, but I can’t say the same for my knee…

Nope, not the battle wounds of a Spartan race. Just clumsiness.

I’ve got no interesting end of the blog post question to ask you, so if you like, feel free make your own up and answer it in the comments below.    Happy Thursday!