Routines

Anyone who knows me can tell you that I'm the most scattered, disorganized person in the whole wide world. For years and years, my New Year's Resolutions included, front and center, "Get Organized!" Two New Year's Eves ago, I decided to try something different. I had only one 2010 resolution. To have fun. To do things a kid would do. Like going to the playground. I still can't do a chin-up, but I can make it all the way across the ladder on the monkey bars. Talk about an upper body workout. I found that it's impossible to swing without smiling. I felt weightless. Like I was seven years old. It was a major workout for my legs. I resisted the urge to jump out at the top of my forward swing. Didn't want to sprain my ankle. I slid down the slide. Tried to walk the balance bar, without succes.

You should try it sometime. It's an instant mood lifter, and I promise, you'll work some muscle groups no other form of exercise can touch. So you'll be sore the next day.

I have a great idea about starting a playground workout group. Wouldn't that be fun? Way more than the boot camp thing I used to do. It happened to be on a playground and I would hit the swingset if I got there early. Too bad, no one ever joined me. I'm sure they thought I was strange, but I try not to worry about what other people think. IDGAF. Look it up - it's Urban Dictionary's word (in this case, acronym) of the day. Or JFGI.

Except parents of kids who were competing for my spot on the playground equipment. Of course, I always let the children go first. I was happy to find the parents weren't worried that I was a pedophile. It's probably an advantage to be a woman.

Skipped rope. Did the hula hoop. Talk about using your abs! I even put my hair in pigtails and danced around the den to Kelly Clarkson blasting on the stereo, complete with a hairbrush for my microphone. I was a little embarrassed when my teenaged son walked in and saw me.

I rode my bike for the first time in ten years. But unlike a kid, I fell off about every third time. And learned that you shouldn't ride your bike with a beer buzz. That time I fell off three times before I got to the end of my street. Walked my bike back home.

That reminds me. When the Greenline first opened this summer, I was a regular. Unfortunately, one day I was texting and riding (but I was completely sober). A Lance Armstrong wanna-be came up behind me, and it startled me and I swerved and hit the gravel on the edge of the path. Hint: gravel and bicycle tires don't mix. Or texting and riding. I flew off my bike and did a face plant on the asphalt. Thank god it wasn't concrete. It was a hot day, too, and the asphalt was probably softer from the heat. I didn't even have time to put my hands in front of me. Hit chin first, and then my right shoulder and my left knee. But I was most concerned about my phone. It was fine. After I retrieved it, I realize that I was bloody. Lance asked me if I was ok, and I said I wasn't sure. My chin was dripping blood. He said, "Don't worry, it'll just be a strawberry." Then he took off. What a mensch.

Mainly, I was glad my teeth were intact. Teeth are extremely important to me. My nose was sore. Later on, I noticed that the front of my helmet was scraped. Public Service Announcement - DO NOT ride your bike without a helmet. And be sure it's firmly on your head and is in the right position so your forehead is protected.

I decided to turn around and ride home when I realized the front of my bike was at a 30 degree angle to the seat and rear. I tried to twist it into alignment, but it didn't budge. I tried to ride it, but you can guess how that worked. I was standing there, bloody and stunned, fighting back tears, and trying to figure out how I would get home. Along came a sweet family and they stopped to help. The superhuman dad grabbed my handlebars and twisted them back in line with the rest of my bike. I thanked him profusely and when they rode off, I said, to no one in particular, "Screw you, Lance idiot." And managed to ride home without falling again.

Once again, I've digressed. And since I'm trying to stick to a schedule (hence the title of this post), I should close. I'll try to write more later. My intent was to talk about how The D follows a very regular routine and how I think I'll give it a try. I was up at 5:20, showered and dressed and at my desk by 6:00. But now I'm 20 minutes past the hour I allotted for blogging. Maybe this schedule thing isn't such a great idea. Now, on with the rest of my day...