It's a free spirit brittany. The internet says that was Sears' house brand in the 70s and 80s. I've taken to referring to it as Brittany in my head so far, but I'd rather a new name. Any ideas?
While at my parents picking up the bike, I also went through my old room and found a treasure trove of vinyl. If only we had a working turntable.
I kind of skimmed over the topic of my recent enhobblement but let me just say: a) it was so bad I cried during the training session and b) it took three days for my right leg to remember how to bend. Yesterday was the first time I was able to walk without a limp and to sit down and get back up using the force of my legs rather than pulling myself up with my arms. Also, my joffle Monday morning did not make things worse and in fact may have actually helped. That and the 12-hour naproxen I got a few weeks back for my incipient tendinitis (oh, just shove tissues up my sleeve and buy me a cane already).
But even in grandma mode I managed to have a pretty full weekend. Saturday afternoon we took the train up to Ryan's for a BBQ which was a good time except for the part where Chris had to practically carry me up the stairs from the train station up the hill to Ryan's house. We didn't have to walk back down though because Weenie (my sister) came to pick us up and take us back to NJ to stay overnight and hang out a little on Sunday.
We didn't have anything in particular planned but since I left my sunglasses at Ryan's we ended up at the flea market near the train in Dover. Dover is the town over from my hometown and, as mentioned in its Wikipedia entry, "As of the 2000 Census, Dover's population was 57.9% Hispanic, making it the municipality with the fifth highest Hispanic population percentage in New Jersey and one of eight New Jersey municipalities with a Hispanic majority." (Missing from that Wikipedia entry is that Dover is also the hometown of sassy.net blog muse canteloupe.) The downtown area is filled with restaurants serving authentic Hispanic foods from many different countries in Central and South America and also Puerto Rico. As such, Chris has always wanted to drop in somewhere to eat when we visit my parents but we never have. Sunday was his day.
We had delicious spicy chicken tacos from a truck near where I picked up some extremely flash $5 sunglasses. I got K-dub a <SECRET> and we picked up some <SECRETS> for canteloupe's kids. And then - jackpot. Chris was taking some old timey building pictures and noticed a guy on the outskirts of the market with a bunch of bicycles for sale. When we met, Chris used to ride his Dahon a lot including coming to Brooklyn to visit me. I was considering getting a folding bike of my own this summer so we could start riding together but they're kind of expensive, or at least not cheap so I've held off. But here, in front of the Dover post office, was a clean, rust-free girl's bike for $25. Sold!
Weenie and my mom thought it was a ridiculous idea and would never fit in weenie's car and it's madness! madness! but Chris is the sensible one in our relationship and I knew if he said if would all work out then it would. He scored some bungee cords off a nearby market vendor and macgyvered it into weenie's trunk where it stayed securely while we drove over to Stewart's for hot dogs and root beer al fresco and then back to the 'Dolph.
And now I'm late to go pick up a Zipcar to go bring the bike home to Camp Carmine. Pictures when I return.
You're not even going to believe it.
Today I went to the gym. But I did not just go to the gym today, oh no, today was merely one day in a vast sea of days that I have been to the gym. Eight (8!) weeks worth of days to be precise. Today was Week 8, Day 1 of the Couch to 5k running program that I and the rest of the known internet are doing. "Running" is somewhat of a misnomer in my sad, noodle-leg case; it's more of a jog or even a shuffle. I joffle three times a week.
But the verb is not what's important here. It is the subject (I aka me aka Beth aka slug) and the adverbial phrase (three times a [knickerbockin'] week)! I was forty kinds of sure this would not work, would be yet another item on the scrapheap of failure I've spent a lifetime building. Running, in any sense of the word, was not something I could imagine doing—not for 90 seconds, not for 3 minutes and holy mother of God not a chance in hell for 20 minutes straight (week 5, day 3). But I did it. I did short and long intervals then I did 20 minutes in a row, then 25 and this morning I did 28 minutes without stopping. Twenty-eight minutes.
Since all I can do is joffle, I am not particularly close to actually running a 5k (3.1 miles). I will tell you straight up my fastest time is 1 mile in 19 long, pathetic minutes. I believe I need to cut that to about 12 min per mile to be in the realm of the non-ridiculous and I'd consider 10 an ultimate goal. Before I got hurt (more in a minute) I was on track to make it to 2 miles in 30 minutes. Not impressive, but I'd consider it the goal of phase one: finish c25k being able to run 30 minutes without stopping. My other goals are:
What was incredibly will-powered and exciting about joffling this morning, even more so than the extra 3 minutes, was that I nearly died over the weekend. See, after 6 weeks of c25k I started adding additional workouts. In week 6 I added one day of yoga (courtesy of Chris's bday present to me of a gift certificate to Om Yoga which I used to sign up for a 6 week Beginner Series) and then last week I added weight training. I went it alone on Tuesday, making my way through the Xpressline at the gym (basically 22 minutes on 8 machines) and it was alright. I was sore enough the next day but made it to yoga on Thursday no problem.
Then Friday I went for my free trainer session. The idea was to be shown how to use machines and/or other equipment for strength training. Trainer J was really friendly and nice but she was obviously trying to end my life. After 40 minutes of fairly hardcore cardio + weights I thought perhaps my heart would leap clear out of my chest. I went home, drank a gallon of water and later we went out for drinks with ChrisSis and Bro-in-law. Saturday morning I woke up with no legs.
I spent the weekend hobbling around like House with no meds and finally feel better today, but that's no way to live. More on the pain-filled but otherwise stellar weekend tomorrow.