I keep talking about climbing a mountain. Assuming we can get up to Mauna Kea early enough in the day while I'm in HI next month, I can of course walk up the summit trail. But I'm thinking more serious. Like. Kilimanjaro. It's apparently not a technically difficult climb (that is, I don't need to be a good rock climber, which I'm not) so much as a ( Read more... )

I went to the gym on Monday night last week, right after work ( Read more... )

I stayed at the office until 4am this morning (from 2pm or so yesterday). Then got back up at 9 for a conference call.

At 9, my entire body was like: um, no. It wasn't hard to wake up, but any part I'd worked at the gym or swinging clubs (which I've been avoiding for awhile) in the past few days was having none of this whole moving around thing ( Read more... )

I mean. Not really ( Read more... )

The problem with the gym is that it makes me hungry. Like. Giant sucking void of food-wanting. Persistent hind-brain messages like We need pasta. With alfredo. NOW. This would be fine if I went to the gym at like 5pm, but I keep going at 8 or 9 (after a perfectly sufficient dinner, mind you), and I don't want to be eating again at 10. I do that ( Read more... )

I had no idea. Going to the gym? Is RIOTOUSLY FUN ( Read more... )

Guess what I did last night ( Read more... )

I am, sometimes, more like a character in a chick-lit novel that I'd care to admit. Because, as cutegaychick said yesterday, my crises?* Are really amusing ( Read more... )

My weekend actually started Wednesday with dance practice. ( What we do to prep for a big performance, if you're interested )

After I went back to work yesterday, all of the greatfeelingness from the weekend immediately dissolved. Not only that, but the things I think of as exacerbated by dance (the pattern of cross-body tension winding up from my left foot/ankle) were in full force by mid-day ( Read more... )