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see now, leaving comments will just encourage me to post.
And I really have nothing to say...

Oh, except to the miscreant who stole my credit card number and bought $1 worth of stuff on Napster thereby precipitating the deactivation of my main source of credit JUST IN TIME FOR THE HOLIDAYS. To you I say: I hope K-Fed moves in upstairs from you, with the kids, and that he takes up clogging, and that he has the "band" over to "practice" a LOT 'cause you know they need it. Not that I wish someone ill in this time of good-will toward men. Nay, think of the delight that music, dance, and the pitter-patter of little feet will bring! I wish you all this joy, and I hope you work nights and that the E! media van parks in your space at inopportune times (no, wait, cancel that, good-will and crap, blah blah).

Workout and diet-wise, I enrolled in the Precision Nutrition Lean Eating program and it was ok, geared more toward abject beginners, but the basics are useful to us all. I kind of had a meltdown toward the end and derailed completely so that was a wash. I can't focus for 16 straight weeks, I mean, that's longer than a whole semester.

Plus I've developed an aversion to the gym. I couldn't figure out what it was until I went to the gym last Sunday. I strive to be loving and compassionate to everyone around me, but when I'm in the gym my brain runs this continuous stream of negative commentary like, "Why are you blocking the weight rack so you can stare at yourself in the mirror when your form sucks? If you're gonna do hamster cardio, at least break a sweat. Why are you telling men to squat with 10lb dumbells? You're doing it wrong! You're doing it stupid! Why are you here? Get out of my squat rack!"

Anyway, I found kettlebells at my local sporting goods store so I played with those for awhile. Then I broke my e-book ban and bought Red Carpet Ready because I wore bike shorts to cardio kickboxing last week and saw that my quads and calves are way overdeveloped. Including a 10 minute warmup (oh, I got Cressey's "Magnificent Mobility" also, oops), the workout is a solid 45 minutes of fairly challenging high-rep, continuous tension sorts of exercises. Looking back, I was at my leanest when I was doing just that (Joyce Vedral's "Definition"). That was a daily 40 minute workout with an alternating upper/lower split and no cardio. I think if I do RCR, it will bring down the bodyfat while reducing the legs and waist. I'll still work hard at TKD so I won't lose explosive power or rotational force, I just don't think my legs and waist need to be quite so hefty.

And then, I'm just going to set silly, shallow short term goals. Currently, they are to get below 120lb before the next testing date so I get easier breaks and look hot when I go to Texas in December =P.

Winter Adventure

I did not tell you about the winter death-march from a few weeks ago. I will not say anything except that if invited to go for "a 3-hour hike" by a bunch of marathon runners I will consider carefully... and dress for wind.

So when a bunch of marathon runners asked if I wanted to ski out to a cabin over the weekend, of course I said "yes" because if there's anything worse than feeling the surface of your eyeballs freezing, it's looking like a wimp in front of your boyfriend's friends, right?

So the next day I find myself cursing life, trying to navigate an icy lopsided trail that had been destroyed by four-wheelers and snowmachines with a top-heavy pack that kept yanking me into the bushes every time my balance wavered. Everyone else flitted effortlessly into the trees, or so I assume, because I pretty much didn't see them for the rest of the day. I caught up with the slower people at the end, and when we arrived at the cabin, they all shouted, "Where are your skiis?" for I had thrown them into the woods and walked the last mile or so.

The next morning, I said I would get a head start and go get my skiis. I figured they would catch up to me before I found them so I really hoofed it out. I fastened then antique wishbone bindings and waited for a bit, expecting to hear them right behind me. Nothing. I figured I needed all the head-start I could get so I took off.

Heading back, the trail was great. The second half of the trail didn't have snowmachine ruination so the tracks were my own. I cruised happily along.... and nobody had caught up. I stopped and waited a few times until I got cold. Finally, nearing the halfway point, I decided to just wait until someone showed up. After what felt like ages, the dogs came stampeding past followed by the first skier. "You're making good time," she said, "I wasn't worried because I could see your fresh ski tracks... Maybe I should've told the guys."

To cut short a short story turned long, after the first few miles, the guys became convinced I was wandering lost in the woods on my ancient skis, soon to become a small, fatty snack for the wolves who had left all the grisly bloodstains and moose parts and poo on the trail. So they had gone all the way back to the cabin, looked around, skied in circles, checked to see if I had fallen in the river, etc. Someone had to go back and get them. "Ha, ha," they said, "we should've had more faith in your skiing ability!", but then we got back onto the crappy, icy, rutted trail so I was still the last one back to the car.