The Aftermath of a Canyon Hike (Captain's Log, Supplemental)

The blister on the middle toe of my right foot is stinging.

Like this was sticking out of it.

Poor tootsie.

My external quads are tight, my lower back is minorly peeved and my shoulders aren't speaking to me.

Might have something to do with the weight of eight water bottles I carried yesterday.

My hair...well, I went to bed with wet hair.

That's a rat's nest right there.

I weighed myself, hoping I'd lost about five pounds.

Dang if this thing ain't stuck RIGHT there. 

It's probably because I ate this:

Actually, I ate 1/4 of the steak, all three shrimp and 1/3rd of the mashed potatoes.

Plus two rolls....and two beers.

Anyhow, the King would tell me it was the carbs.

So, no carbs today.

Which means life will certainly be less fun this week, but if I can break under 150 lb for the first time in nine years (knowing I have muscle, too) I would be over the moon.

I could soooo write a story about this moon.

Every step I take today will remind me of what I did yesterday.

It was terribly awesome.

I'll be sore, but I'll love it.  I'll want to brag about it (so unfair that's not socially acceptable), I'll want to rehash it, I'll want to plan another trip there this month.

Because this is not exercise.

It wasn't a workout.

It was a pilgrimage.

"Leave it at the altar," I've heard said many a church service.

I left it in the Canyon.  Among the buttes, the mesas and plateaus.  Down a steep and rocky trail few will ever traverse.  Uncontent to sit and watch the beauty from the rim, I've taken it deeper.  

Inspired by Dotty.

I will always stop for purple flowers.

Yesterday, for the second time, my excitement grew as I neared the Canyon rim at the end of the hike.  There was no desire for the hike to be over; no worry that I'd never get there.  The weariness of the hike mattered little as I finished the task.  

Nothing else on earth compares to this; it is addicting, this soul-drenching excursion to a land that calls me, soothes me and embraces me.

I hate exercise.  I assure you, this is not exercise.  It's exploration.

I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up (although I did plot out some business plans while skimming along a butte.). I do know, however, I must include the Canyon in them.  I'd head back today if I could.

29: Is Channing Tatum a Secret Prince?

I woke up when the alarm went off.

Miracle of miracles-I slept through the night!

I have long hair.  One cannot possibly sleep like this.

Which meant it was Monday, and I had to eat six times, workout plus do actual work, too.

Like a normal person.

Because clearly, people who pose lovingly with a Prince Eric statue are normal.

Well, I ate two hard boiled eggs and slugged a jumbo size cup of coffee, because my research shows coffee hydrates as well as water.

Didn't believe me, did you?  It's been all over the English papers.

I headed to CrossFit, and decided to not walk in early.  Maverick is serious about Mondays.

Unfortunately, he's serious about a lot of stuff I need to do.

Once inside, my mood lifts.  It's hard not to smile when The Professor has on his buff.  He sets me up with six exercises:  kettle bell swings, barbell rows, standard barbell deadlifts, front barbell squats, overhead dumbbell presses and finally a strange yoga-pose sit up.  3 sets of 15.

I liked those weird sit ups-half the exercise involved laying down.  I call that rest.

So I did seven extra on the last set, because I liked the song playing, and I wanted to see how long I could go.

It's still not fun.  Really, it's not.  Nope.

That's how I felt, driving home with music thumping while eating jerky.

I get home, start the laundry, hang my white boards, write some goals, start some calls.  Dryer buzzes, I flip the laundry, and gather towels for a towel load.  Guess what I find buried in the process?  The scale.

It was under our son's bed.  Really.

Seven or so weeks ago, I started the Quest not knowing what I weighed.  The scale was missing, and I didn't need to see a number to know I needed to lose weight.  Last week I was weighed when they did my BMI, so I had a benchmark.  Joyfully, I climbed on.

Yep, that bad.

I apparently had GAINED two and a half pounds.  FREAKING REALLY?!?

So much for a ridiculously amazing Monday.

I vow now I'm not weighing myself again.  EVER!

Ok, maybe vow isn't the right word here. Did you know there is some movie called The Vow starring Channing Tatum?  Nor did I until I googled "vow."  Hmph.

Although the King of Athletics is older, he's equally cut & hot ❤️

Here's the deal:  my calorie count is NOWHERE near my energy output.  I should have lost weight-goodness knows I've been hungry enough!!

Jim thinks my body is scared of the exercise and retaining my fat because I'm not eating enough.

Seriously???  That's a broken record!

UGH.  Suddenly, my mood is black.  Yeah, I'd drank three bottles of water, plus the coffee and two snacks and I was dressed.  BUT STILL!?!

Nothing got thrown, so that's good.  Although I just realized I never finished flipping the laundry.

Excuse me.

Crap.  Stuff in dryer is damp.  Anyhow...

This is my 1970's dinner:  Shrimp Orleans, on rice.  With a beer.  Carb city.

You want to mess with me, body?  Really?  Let me give you some carbs.

And thus was my day (plus a trip to the dentist; I remain cavity free all these 43 years.)  Tomorrow the big hike.  5am start.  I've heard it's call for some time, now I must go.  

My destination is easy, the return trip?  We shall see.  Pray for me!

23: St Patrick's Day & Forgetting to Eat

I was so proud of myself this morning.  I rarely eat breakfast outside of a restaurant, and I ate 23 green grapes here at home.  Fueling!  Look at me!

My body could trust me to eat, right?

Wrong.

It was a planned no exercise day; a day to work on marketing and proposals.  I immediately fell in love with the analytics, and was consumed in design.

11:20am

That's when I looked up.

I had an appointment at noon, 20 minutes away.  My pj's would be totally inappropriate.

Hurrying, I got dressed and jumped in the car, grabbing my morning's work.  I would have been on time had there not been construction on Williamson Valley.

I was held up at the man with the flag exactly how many minutes I was late.

The meeting went well, and I went to work.  I had two events to cover; the only issue was I was so tired.

Sleep had evaded me again, waking me at 4am.  At 3pm I thought about food.  I scarfed down half a chili burger and a tea.  I then checked in for the 10th annual St. Patrick's Day Pub Crawl.

Becky ran into many, many friends.

We visited all the pubs, didn't have a single drink, then popped in at the Nastee Dog Kickstarter for their new stove hood.

While I love their food, I wasn't hungry-I'd eaten just 2 hrs before.

So I end the evening with three glowing bracelets, four beaded necklaces, two flashing shamrock rings, one flashing shamrock necklace and a green bowler hat, plus two t-shirts (all at no cost, since I didn't buy a single drink.)

Then Jim calls.

Crap.  My health coach.

I only ate twice today.

We chat for a few minutes as I stand outside one of the pubs.  I have a thirty year habit I need to break; I need to fuel myself six times a day, and I was an utter failure my first day out.

Eating will be harder than exercise.