Thursday, January 13, 2005

Thursday. Why isn't it Friday?

Here's the big thing I learned this week - walking in the fresh air ain't the same workout as a treadmill. I already knew this, of course, that's why I rejoined the gym, but this time I paid attention to my walking speed/incline/steady pace, and compared that to my normal flatland 45 minute or so dog-walking.

Pause-n-Squirt Interval Training with Small Dog Trainer on Florida flatland is nothing like doing a steady 45 minutes at a brisk pace and moderate incline. I was sweating. My legs were aching pleasantly, and now they feel wonderful. Oh yeah, rejoining the gym was SUCH a good move! I felt great just surviving that long at that pace non-stop, I am not a lost cause, it felt GOOD. It was just a start.

Tuesday's road trip was great fun but exhausting. I have zero knitting to report.

I wrote a rant about the situation with my parents, but I saved it rather than posting it. It was cathartic to write it down and see, in black and white, that I am NOT crazy or a Bad Daughter for feeling nothing but tired and disgusted about the current "crisis." I think I'm going to rant more in writing, so should the day come that I have to explain to a social worker why I am such a Bad Daughter I can just hand it over. Assuming my father's condition has deteriorated to where he will need a new level of care and that single family house they should have sold years ago is going to be too much for them, which appears to be the case now, this is entirely their problem. I am too far away, have too much going on in my own life, and anyway, have no legal authority to intervene in their lives. They had years to make decisions about these matters, they didn't, they lived in denial, and this is not going to become my problem. They have insurance and assets, they can do whatever the hell they want, I will not be involved in any of it, because decades of dealing with their narcissistic insanity taught me how futile it is to respond to "What do you think we should do?" I will not be sucked into this shit, it makes ME crazy and accomplishes nothing. I can't afford to care.

Ah, I just ranted more than I intended to. Time to go get into the shower.


Geogrrl said...

You go, girl! Don't give in.

Pam said...

"Pause-n-Squirt Interval Training with Small Dog Trainer", I think I'm on the same program, except with a medium dog, so there is more shoulder dislocation.

Hang in there!

Catherine said...

With Murphy there are the knee-jarring sudden stops. He's close to the ground and therefore the good smells -he can stop on a dime for one, I can't. He is an obsessive-compulsive sniffer, he can stand in one spot and enjoy a few blades of grass forever. I've decided I need to adopt a variation on his attitude toward life - stop now and then to contemplate the duck shit.