I haven't dropped off of planet earth – I moved this past weekend, and the Mediacom guy didn't make it to my house for the internet installation appointment. We're going to try again Saturday; meanwhile I'm enjoying a very “light” internet presence, wherein I type out my grats and blogs on my internet-less laptop, save them to a flash drive, and then work posting them into my before- or after-work schedule or perhaps my lunch breaks. Ahhh patience.
Monday was my first run in the new neighborhood. I live in downtown Davenport, Iowa, just a few blocks from the Mississippi River. My neighborhood, like many downtown areas, is a mixture of awesomeness and poverty. This has challenged me a bit, considering where I might run. Can't use the bike path at 5 AM, cuz it's pitch black on the unlit path, and I know that the few times I tried biking the path before sunrise on the other side of the river, I disturbed homeless people who were waking up and starting their days. So, no bike path before dawn. I'm told there is no shortage of crack houses fairly close to here, which means a certain population is likely just winding down to the end of their nightly activities as I'm out there. So between the danger of getting mugged and the possibility of impaired drivers, I'm not fond of the idea of jogging down the streets at that hour. And then there's that vicious, giant hill that I WILL be interacting with in some manner regularly for fitness' sake, but probably not at 5 AM.
Happily, I have come up with the perfect solution, which I tried on Monday: I jog over to the Centennial bridge (2 blocks down the hill and then something like 4 blocks over) and then...cross it! I haven't measured, but my guess is this distance should be almost perfectly the 2.5 miles I'm used to running. The bridge is brightly lit and nothing about it is inviting for people to hang out and make trouble on it. And hey...I get to see the pre-dawn light on the water, and when I get to the other side and turn around, there is the coolness of downtown Davenport, all lit up and pretty as I head back toward it. Good stuff!
Monday was a challenge, as the whole world was a sheet of thin ice. The sidewalks and roads on the way to the bridge were very slick. I went extremely slowly and with great caution – not really into falling, and my feet were slipping and sliding the whole way. The bridge was NOT icy...it was just snowy. Had somewhere between a quarter and half an inch of snow – not so much that I COULDN'T jog, but enough that it was a bit of an impedance. So I was going slowly there, too, between the snow and learning to watch for the spots the bridge is joined together and there are these inch-wide spaces between that look perfect for tripping me when I'm oblivious. So I didn't make it all the way across the bridge this time, but I think when I'm not negotiating with ice and snow, it should be a breeze (or at least highly possible).
This weekend taught me the great reward that fitness is, within itself. Saturday I had a moving truck scheduled for 8 AM to 4 PM and the time to take care of business. My originally planned help fell through, and the awesome guys who stepped in to fill that void had a morning commitment, so they couldn't start at 8 with me. I had worked Friday from 12:30 to about 11 PM on preliminary moving stuff (hauling my clothing and food to the new place in my car, putting it all away, and finishing packing last-minute stuff at the old place) and had gone to bed Friday night feeling like I'd been beaten with a baseball bat.
But Saturday morning I was up and excited, ready to just DO this thing. So I dug right into loading the truck, figuring I'd do what I could while I waited for the guys. Bit by bit it went, until I was down to the last 3 things that had to go in: a couch, a mattress, and a box spring. By this point, I was like don't let them come! I want to prove I can do this! And...they didn't. And...I did!
I AM WOMAN, HEAR ME ROAR!!
So when they came almost an hour later, all there was to do was disassemble the bed frame (as I had packed my tools too soon) and then get everything over to the new place. It took me 3 hours to load the truck. It took 3 of us about 2 hours to unload it.
Do you see why I danced and sang and celebrated and have shamelessly bragged, since then?
I love physical fitness. I love it that even at still at least 75 pounds overweight, I am fit enough to load an entire U-haul truck BY MYSELF, and still have the energy to help with unloading it, and then still have the energy to unpack and put stuff away afterward until bedtime. If my body can do ALL THAT, I am sure having fun imagining what it will be able to manage when more of that weight comes off.
Think of it! Awesome.