Working Gal

I'm a working girl this week! A friend is on vacation and his employer needed someone to fill in for him for the week. Since I write for the employer at times and somewhat know their business, I volunteered. So this week I'm doing the work thing, 10-4. Which makes for an interesting day. Since I still have my work to do, I'm getting up at 5 to put a few hours in on the laptop before I drive to Greensboro. Then work 10-4. (And they are wonderful, flexible people. If there's a slow spot, I can check my e-mail, read, or do some project writing.) Then I'm running 3 evenings this week and not getting home until 8ish. I told myself before the week began that I'd have to do some nighttime writing, but so far that's not happening. I'd rather go to bed early and get up at 3, if need be, versus work at night. Don't like it--at least not after a full day.

If I'd known a few weeks ago when I agreed to this how busy my schedule would be this week, I probably would have passed on it. But as it is, it's kind of fun. There's been enough to keep me busy but not swamped these last two days and I'm starting to feel like I know what I'm doing. The hardest part for me is the phone. I turn my phones off or ignore them when I'm writing and just return calls later from voicemail. Now I'm responsible for answering the phone and it takes about 3 rings for me to remember, "Oh! That's me!"

This week is also a much needed reminder of HOW MUCH I LIKE WORKING FOR MYSELF, WORKING FROM HOME, AND HAVING A FLEXIBLE SCHEDULE. I know I have it good, but it never hurts to be reminded of that fact. People--I have it good. 

I'm typing this in a Panera, checking e-mail before I change clothes and head out to my running group. We're running Fartlek tonight, which is the Swedish word for "speed play." You pick an object in the distance and run to it as fast as you can, then recover. Then run fast for another minute, recover. I've read about it but never actually tried it. I'm curious to see how it goes.

Maybe I'll report on that in the blog at 5 am tomorrow...

Cheers,

Dena

I Refuse to be Sick

Scratchy throat... coughing... little desire to do anything but sleep. I'm not sick yet, but I can feel my body wanting to go there. Sorry, no can do. Much too busy to be sick. I can pencil in a small illness around September 5th but have got WAY too much going on until then. Writing projects, book projects, speeches and presentations, training... none of it will wait. So sorry body, suck it up. No illness allowed for at least two weeks.

Run, Even When You Don't Feel Like It

The schedule for today said six miles. I was thinking four sounded good. If I could get myself out the door.

I felt heavy. Not fat, just very at one with the gravitational pull of the earth. I'd gone to yoga this morning and instead of feeling stretched, I felt coiled and tight.

Lucikly, I have Blair on my side.

"Let's go!" he chirped as I walked in from yoga. "Change into your running clothes."

"I don't wanna grumble-grumble-grumble..." I mumbled in reply. 

He pep talked me all the way to the 1-mile trail loop near our house. "Six laps, easy-peasy," he said. 

Mumble, mumble. Glower.

But once we started... I felt good. Very good. My breath came easy, my muscles loosened, and I felt my mood lightening as I looped around the lake and watched dads showing their kids how to fish and the kids ignoring the dads and basically running full tilt into the water in an attempt to blast the fish to shore.

Blair met me for the final lap and challenged me to push it. We raced up a hill and back to the car where we both tried not to let the other see how pooped we were from the hard finish.

Today was a great example of how doing something I know is good for me, even when I don't want to do it, almost always has its rewards. I feel good, I ran 6 miles, and I'm done for the day.

And as a bonus, I picked up some fishing tips. HERE FISHIE-FISHIE!!!!

Card Me!

We rarely keep alcohol in the house and I was craving a glass of red, so on the way in from Greensboro tonight I stopped by Harris Teeter and bought a bottle. When I handed it to the checkout woman, she glanced at me, then swiped it and told me my total.

HEY. I may be 38 but I looked good today. Damn good. Would it KILL you to ask for my ID? Just to be nice? 

I am sooo having an extra glass tonight on her account.... ;)