tobermory's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- zoom zoom If you were in the vicinity of the north side of Chicago this morning around 5:50 am and heard a small sonic boom, I�m sorry if I startled you. Yes, that�s right, it was me running my timed mile. Ok, I jest, but I did (for me) an absolutely smokin� run. My initial mile time six weeks ago was 10:59. Today? 9:20. I rock. And who do I have to thank? Here�s the list: Come Clean � Hillary Duff And I�m not even going to mention the even crappier songs I skipped through because they were just not motivating me this morning. Do I find it embarrassing that I, little Miss Hipper than Thou Former College DJ, listens to crap while she�s working out? Not if it allows me to shave off 1:39 from my mile time. If it works I say bring on the crap. I believe that one Ms. Smartypants (scroll down to the second paragraph) feels the same shame that I do. Eh, it�s not like anyone at the gym has ever asked me what I�m listening to so I guess my shame is secret. Or was until I posted it here. Of particularly impressive note � I almost missed Boot Camp because of a snooze alarm mishap. I re-woke up at 5:18 (class begins at 5:30) and I made it there by 5:29. I even managed to brush my teeth. Not too shabby, but then it�s not as if it�s a fashion show. Today was the last Boot Camp class until the next session starts in a week. I had visions of sleeping until the decadent hour of 6:40 all next week but in truth it would probably keep me more on schedule if I go to the gym before work next M-W-F. I think I�ll try to join Wendy for the (as she deemed it) Weights & Hates (full name: Lifting Weights to Hateful Pop Remixes) class on Monday and Wednesday and then take the early spin class on Friday. Since I last took a class there has been a new �launch� for Weights & Hates so at least I�ll have all new music to hate. I�ll no longer have to associate bicep work with a fake (and cleaned up) version of Fergie�s London Bridge, but there will undoubtedly be some other torturous new song for me to roll my eyes at. Hooray. Breakfast: yogurt, Kix. I am tired of typing this, but at least I�m not tired of eating it. Yet. Someone at work brought in bagels today and I desperately wanted to eat one, but since carbs like that are, for me, the thin edge of the wedge, I abstained. But I swear I�m having phantom sensory feelings and I can taste the cream cheese and feel the creamy goodness on my lips. 1:54 p.m. - 2007-07-27 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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