Wednesday, June 27, 2012

My Fitness Journey: 26 Pounds GONE!!!!!

Do I dare say it? Do I dare announce this?

Even after spending ten days “off the wagon” and enjoying myself immensely in Georgia, and coming home to try and behave, I get on the scales and for three days in a row, I have actually LOST 4 pounds, bringing my total loss in the last thirteen months to 26 pounds.

Oh, I can hear Wicked Amy now…..”Throw those scales out!” However, when you can’t exercise as much and quantify your fitness goals in other ways, the scales are what is left, at least for the time being.

I was worried when I broke my foot. I knew what I had to do and what I simply could not do. I would continue to lift the weights at home to keep my upper body from losing what I had gained. I would “watch” what I ate, but I did not log in the exercise, so that was “gravy” in the mathematical calculation of calories in and calories expended.

I thought, “If I can maintain, I will be thrilled.”

I have lost 4 pounds in the month of June.

What I have not been able to find, is some kind of equation that tells me how many calories I burn up dragging this boot around. I am trying to be good, because I do not want to postpone our Alaskan trip again, but I never realized just how exhausting it is to wear the boot.

Truly, I am so grateful for it. I can take it off at night, and I can bathe without it, and I will not have that “grossness” that we used to have when a cast was removed; the scaly skin, the smell, and also, as I recall, the weakness of the limb that was broken. It took weeks to build that back up from lack of use.

No problem today!

I still have a long way to go, but knowing that 26 pounds is GONE and that more will follow. This is not supposed to be a speedy process, but a lifelong affair with fitness and good health. I am learning patience!

Thursday, June 21, 2012

This is Living in a Reality TV Show!

Extreme Makeover: Farm Edition

{Some names have been changed to protect the guilty!}

It has been mentioned to me that I should use more humor in my writing because, to some, I am a very funny person. Well, I did not know Erma Bombeck, she was not my friend, and I know—I am not Erma Bombeck!

Sometimes, however, life is so darn funny that all you really have to do is write. You don’t have to be funny; the story just tells itself. This is one of those times.

As I write this, I am living in a reality show. I came down to Dawsonville GA to help my old friend Linda re-organize her office and I am spending 10 days here.  I had broken my foot, but I was to sit and sort papers and file them, and I would ask the 14-year-old son for help moving trash out, and other things. The intent was to work, but also have a little vacation.


Seriously, we have had fun. However, I came down when her entire farm was being excavated by Dave the Dirt-Mover from Dawsonville (and if you put enough of those words in a search engine, you WILL find his last name, but I ain’t tellin’ ya!). Dave is a good ol’ boy and EVERYONE knows Dave!  I have been fascinated by his skill in removing certain things while not touching other things. Much flora has been removed. The farm had been overgrown for many years.
First of many trees to come down.

Dave had his sidekicks; Joe, Billy Bob, Bubba and of course, Dave, Jr. They were all characters, and certainly had their own personalities, but they were good at what they did!

The plan was in place and the demo began. The day after I arrived, a huge tree was removed and the horse-riding ring was widened. Much was done to repurpose this area. The second day, more trees were removed; dirt pushed around and moved to other parts of the farm for future use. Dave hauls off tree stumps and debris—mostly coniferous—and will be able to recycle them. He buries others.

The third day, it got interesting. Dave the Dirt-Mover cut the line to the cable TV/internet. This was a mild issue; but because the farm is a home business and some things need to get done, it needed attention. Of course, it was a major catastrophe to the 14-year-old, who could no longer play his shoot-‘em-up games with his 6 best friends on the X-Box. What was a young person to do? Mother and I had less trouble with it. After all, we had been “pioneers” before the age of the Internet.

That was taken care of rather easily, although presently there is a line laying on top of the ground running up the driveway. I know it will be buried eventually. I have lived with unburied electric lines, and although great care must be taken, you can live this way for awhile. There is no reason to bury these lines until Dave the Dirt-Mover is completely finished.

The following day, Dave cut the water. THIS is a little more important to a middle-aged woman who goes to the bathroom frequently!  It took several hours, but Dave himself was able to fix this. Linda had to make a run to Home Depot to get the piping. In time all was well again.

Did I mention there are eight dogs and four horses on this farm? They are all upset and I can’t imagine what is running through their animal minds. Actually, I have a good idea with the dogs, as they are all in the house and are “verbal” about it. I don’t go down to the barns much, and I can hear the horses whiny, and I imagine their tummies are churning.

Anyway, there is no sleeping in.

The weekend was reasonably quiet as the dirt-movers went on to other endeavors. The people who board their horses here were able to come in and ride in the one pasture, and it was a fairly normal day on the farm. In the evening, Linda, the 14-year-old and I were able to go out and eat with my brother and sister-in-law.

Monday brought new challenges. Dave the Dirt-Mover was back, bright and early, and while Linda and I were working on the office filing system, he cut the power line. While this was of more concern, most definitely, by this time all I could do was laugh. We called the power company, and actually still did the filing for awhile because it was one task that did not rely on power other than our own, until it began to get warm up in the loft as a natural consequence of the air conditioning being off. Then we gave it up.

The dogs have a “kennel room” in the back of the house and as a natural consequence of the air circulation being disrupted; the odors of that room began to filter through the house. That was a minor thing really; the dogs had to be indoors most of the time during the demo. Bless their little hearts. Uh-oh, am I becoming “southern?”

The power company came out to assess and it would be later in the day before we had power restored; so we loaded up the 14-year-old, the 17-year-old intern, and ourselves and went to Wendy’s. We ate, peed and sat in the AC.

The riding ring.
Blessedly, we have had cooler weather than our friends and relatives in the North. I spent the rest of the afternoon rocking in my rocking chair on the front porch, just watching the working people. While the power company people were on one side of the front yard, the dirt-movers moved to the pasture and started removing trees there. The horses were in the barn. Surely there would not be a power, cable or water line in the pasture!

Part of the reason this process is being done is for drainage; the farm sets in a corner and when heavy rains come, it’s a mess. Secondly, there are too many trees, and there is such a thing as too many trees, although not according to Mr. Biology. That’s another blog, and he won’t approve it. If you know that story, you are laughing. We are still married.

Tuesday Dave had another job, but by late afternoon he was back, digging the biggest hole I ever saw, planning to bury more of the debris. He threatened to throw Linda in the hole. Wish I had a video of that!

Wednesday brought more drama. They came to get the equipment and went to another job; but returned, only to break part of the dozer, and have to go someplace to get the part for that. When they returned, they broke the water pipe in another place. I guess it was good that Linda bought 100 feet of piping last week; and it was fixed in a relatively short time.

Linda and I were ready to go to a movie. We need an escape from “reality.”

It’s been an interesting time; wondering what would happen next. No trees have fallen on any buildings or people; and the flow of trucks in and out is actually quite orchestrated. So, for what it was, it was good. I did have to leave before this was all completed, but I look forward to pictures of the finished product!

The only thing missing was Ty, a bunch of cameras, and a lot of people in blue shirts.

P.S. Dave the Dirt-Mover has actually been IN a reality TV show. It was on about a week ago on TLC. It was one of those “trading lives” shows, where the good ol’ boy from Georgia traded lives with an African American from New York. It is called “Dave and Chuck” and I will be looking for that in re-runs. He is a "character!"

Tuesday, June 19, 2012

Happy Birthday, Sir Paul!

Paul at 70!

I wonder if my mom felt this way when Frank Sinatra turned 70!

It’s just not possible.

It means admitting how old I am!

He was cute!
There have been other celebrities turning big numbers. There have been other musicians turn big numbers. We have other musicians still “out there” doing their thing. They bring in huge numbers of baby-boomers who spend big bucks to relive their youth. Some of them are simply great; others really need to hang it up.

And then….there is Sir Paul!

To those of us of a certain age, he was the "beautiful one." John Lennon is bigger in death than in life, as happens to many people. He was gifted, to be sure. He didn’t deserve to be assassinated.  I can’t help but wonder if he had lived and turned 70 some time ago, how his life would have turned out.

But I am pretty sure of one thing—he would not be filling baseball stadiums and singing for three hours without a break. (OK, so there were some serious guitar moments in there where he gave his voice a rest, but I sing, and there’s no freakin’ way I could sing for an HOUR, much less three!)

Great American Ball Park (2011) Bigger than life!
I don’t go to tons of concerts that aren’t free; but I have been to some….and nothing, absolutely nothing will compare with seeing Paul McCartney sing in person. Ever. And that’s from the upper deck of GABP in the “cheap” seats.

Last summer, I asked my Facebook friends to be honest; is there anyone in music today, and I admit there is some great talent there, that we can see filling ball parks when they are 70? No one could make a comparison. It simply wasn’t possible.

I invite comment if you disagree. I just can’t come up with anyone.

While Paul McCartney has had an interesting personal life these past few years; he has never left music. It has evolved to be sure—it is not just Beatles music anymore, although didn’t we love to sing along?

There are several Beatles tribute bands out there, and I have seen at least two, but no one will travel around as “Paul McCartney” in a few years. It just won’t happen.

Happy Birthday, Sir Paul! You are indeed one of a kind. Thank you for contributing to my life.

Sunday, June 17, 2012

The "Other" Dads

I sit here on Father’s Day 2012 and reflect on how many fathers are important to me. I have written a blog on my own Dad and don’t intend to repeat that. It’s amazing as I think about this, how many “other” men are important people in my life as fathers.

Dad and brother Ben.
Obviously we begin with Robert L. Kline, whose DNA I carry and who raised me. He lived from March 9, 1930 until August 24, 1977. I was a “Daddy’s girl” and my personality is more like his than my mother, although I fully recognize that, like all children, I am a combination of both. My father began life working for his brother as a brick-mason, after a stint in the US Army during the Korean War. He then took a job with Prudential Insurance selling life (only) insurance. There was a period of time where he bought into a partnership of a bowling alley, which to this day stands at the corner of Route 235 and Gerlaugh Road, a few feet from where our son will be married in the Medway Church.

During this time, he worked as the restaurant manager. Two other men managed the bowling alley itself. The restaurant (bar) was known as the “Boom-Boom” Room.  He did this for 2-3 years and returned to selling insurance for Metropolitan Life (we know it as Met Life today), when Mom became pregnant with their third child and a higher income would be necessary. He worked for Met Life for the rest of his life.

His influence on me cannot be overstated, but I will move on. The older I get, I hear the statements he made to me, the opinions he had reverberate in my mind; and just last night, my brother and I talked about what he would think today: Loren wondered what he would have done with the Internet, and I wondered what he would think of the three-point shot in basketball. (That simply stands for all the changes in the sporting games he watched) We can only imagine.

Next is the father of my children. When we decided to have children, we told each other that we would support whatever they did in life, within our means. He was their biggest fan! Neither one of us was a heavy disciplinarian, nor did we need to be, but when necessary, the hammer came down swiftly. I guess we might say “picking our battles,” but we didn’t battle everything. He was concerned (as was I) with character-building, not every little thing. Would it be important in fifty years? Usually the answer was no.

Always the educator, our children were exposed to all kinds of things in our travels and life in general. He taught and taught and taught. It is no wonder that our son follows him in education. I wonder if he ever considered anything else.  He’s a natural. So is our daughter, just not professionally.

Jerry and his folks at our wedding
My father-in-law was my friend. I had just lost my own Dad when we got married. Jerry’s folks wanted me to call them “Mom” and “Dad.” I wish I had had a conversation with them about this, and stood up on this matter. It was simply too soon to do this. Therefore, most of the time, they were “hey yous” until we had kids, when they became Grandma and Grandpa. (I didn’t really call them “hey you,” I just avoided calling them anything. They had no names to me)

Don Derge was born in February of 1919 and died in December of 2007. He also served in the US Army, but was a farmer all of his life. The first house he bought was his grandmother’s, before moving into his parents’ home and taking over their farm and apple orchard after his father died. His mother was moved into the “little house” built for her next door.

He was an athlete and played baseball; so Joel gets his athletic ability and interest from both his grandfathers. He was a very outgoing individual and never knew a stranger. Except for the stint in the Army, he was self-employed and the master of his own destiny.

Aging was difficult for him. He had a debilitating stroke at the age of 68, but lived 20 more years. There were many things he had to give up; some immediately and some gradually. He rented out the farming immediately with no regrets, but continued in the orchard until he could no longer do so. He and his wife were placed in a nursing home when he was 83, and he outlived her by three years, spending a total of 5 years there. As his dementia increased, he didn’t ask about the home place anymore. He quietly passed away on a December night.

My son-in-law is raising the most precious little girl in my life. He has been a part of my life for 10 years this fall. It has been pure joy to watch him take on the role of daddy and he is well suited to it. I believe this is a testimony to the men in his life; his father, grandfathers and “other” men such as uncles and coaches.

Joe and Dad at my folks 25th
wedding anniversary party.
Sept. 1975.
Then there are the “other dads.” My uncles, both by birth and by marriage (to me there is no difference) who have been a large part of my life, and the neighbors and friends who have been important to me. When my father passed at a young age, there were men who “stepped in” and “stepped up” because I was only 24. I still needed advice, although I was married shortly after. Shoot, WE needed advice!

Joe convinced my Dad to get an auctioneer's license with him. Joe turned it into a major side business, but to my Dad it was an interest. They were good card-playing friends, and when Dad died, Joe was right there, asking what could he do to help? His first thought was "Let me go get the car for you," as it was parked in a remote area. This was not necessary, as the sheriff took care of it, but Joe thought of details.

I think of John, who was my Dad’s closest friend, who came over to our first home and helped us out with several things. Actually, there are quite a few stories there, some of which left me in literal hysteria and having to leave the house. John was chosen by both Jerry and I to be the executor of our wills, in the event we perished together, so this was not a casual relationship. It was a relationship of family-type trust.

He represented me in the selling of my uncle’s home in 1992, and both of us in the buying and selling of our homes in 1993. When he died at the age of 69 after a short, seemingly sudden, illness; in March of 2002, I was terribly shocked and grief-stricken!

All these men had a part in me becoming who I am today. It’s not just about one Dad, although I loved him and miss him to this day. But he left me early and there have been other men in my life to pick up the slack.

This day honors all of these men.

Friday, June 15, 2012

My Fitness Journey: Visualizing Myself

I have this image of what I want to look like when I achieve my weight loss goals. No, I don’t want to look like I did when I was 20. There are things that are just never going to happen. They have to do with gravity, and the condition of my skin, no matter how many creams I put on it!

I see myself as I was the summer I turned 40. I think, “I can do this.” In 1993 we were embarking on a new life as we moved to a new community. I was moving to a much bigger home in which I was so excited about creating a new living space! We had a one acre lot where my kids would have lots of room; and our street of ten homes had eleven children under the age of thirteen. It was an easy time with the kids as they were five and nine, and at an age where they were well-behaved most of the time; bright and inquisitive about everything they did, and just plain FUN!

As I remember our move, and the many trips I went up and down stairs to move in, I was physically fit. Certainly I tired from this, but I was good. I did some gardening that year and learned to make home-made salsa which was pretty darned good. I loved being a homemaker, although during the school year I was working part-time at my son’s preschool.

I weighed 144 the day we moved in the second week in June. I will just say it. If I can reach anything close to that place, I will be delighted! I can do something about the graying hair, and I don’t even have to tell you about it, but I want to be strong and healthy in the way I was that summer.

There is an acceptance that I am twenty years older and many things have changed; but I believe I can get close to that place! It certainly may take until summer of 2013 to do it, but I believe I can!

Tuesday, June 12, 2012

My Fitness Journey: Injury--Seeing the Glass Half-Full!

What happens when you have a set-back in your health; limiting what you can do to achieve the goals you had set for yourself?

I never expected to fracture a foot, but if there is anything that slows you down and makes you take another look at ALL of the things you are doing, it is something like this!

So, we use this as an example, but my hope is that my reader can take my example and apply it to whatever is going on in their lives.

I already had plantar fasciitis and it’s amazing how I don’t even feel that when the other side of the same foot has a fracture in it! In times past, and there have been three times, when I got the plantar fasciitis, I would do as little as possible, and the result was naturally, weight gain. So here I am again, bound and determined to not have that happen AGAIN!

The plantar fasciitis kept me from walking a treadmill and my knees kept me from the elliptical machine; so that left the bike. OK, that is what it is. So, I commit to doing that for the prescribed time every week. I am “pushing through the pain” and I am gaining. Having two athletes in the family, I understood what pushing through the pain meant, although myself, I was a wimp! This would be different.

I WAS making progress, maybe not as much as the person doing Zumba on one night, Boot Camp on another and taking the Circuit Class a third day, as well as doing their own workouts; but I WAS making progress!

That is, until I fractured the darn foot! See the blog “Derailed,” which basically tells the story of how I did that. This blog is “what I am going to do during recuperation.”

I wear this boot thingie and that keeps me from doing lots of things. First of all, there will be NOTHING weight-bearing. I have to walk around in this thing and that’s enough weight-bearing. Cardio will be taking a back burner and I realize that.

This is one of those times you focus on the glass half-full. What CAN I do?

We found some free weights at home—I fully intended to buy some—and I am doing arm work with them. I do several types of movement with them and use as much of my upper body as I can. I STILL have the bum shoulder and some things are still the same. But I push through the pain.

I am able to do sit-ups, or “crunches” we call them. I continue that. I don’t worry about my legs because they carry me all day long as they always have in life. I won’t lose as much there.

I continue to use “” and count every single bite that goes in my mouth. Normally, when I go to the gym, I have estimates as to how much I am burning off and I add that in also. I am not doing that at all now, so any working out, of any type is not being counted. This I can do. If I eat less, and don’t record the exercise, this is bound to have a desirable effect in the long run.

I think what I probably miss the most—is this a surprise to anyone?—is the fact that I am not pushed by other class members, a trainer/teacher or whatever at the gym.  I am totally on my own here and have to keep up my own motivation in this journey. We shall see how I do with that!

Next up, I am going to write about how I visualize myself at goal. Am I 18 again?


Friday, June 8, 2012

If Life Just Didn't Get in the Way!

We have goals. We know we can achieve these goals. But sometimes, life does get in the way.

I am using a web site/app that is called You can enter your age, your target weight,  and the amount of pounds that you want to lose per week, and it will calculate what your “budget” is to achieve this particular goal. It will tell you when you when you will reach it.

That is, if nothing gets in the way.

But life does get in the way, and I am “mature” enough to see that I probably will NOT reach that goal on that date.

First there was the fracturing of my foot, and the acceptance of the limitations that forced upon me; that is, if I want to heal correctly! The fitness club froze my account and I don't have to pay for something I am not using. I have free weights at home and am able to do crunches (we used to call them sit-ups) without involving anything remotely weight-bearing. I will do as I am able, and more on that will be in the next blog entry.

My husband and I are planning a trip to Alaska to celebrate our 35th wedding anniversary. I plan on having only one 35th wedding anniversary. Even my nutritionist says “Go and have a good time! You are not going to ruin everything by letting up a little.”

I know that I can make good choices among the fine, and less fine restaurants that we go to. On the cruise part, I can choose about anything (and there will be workout rooms also, or I can walk the deck). I also know that because I married Mr. Biology, we will be doing some excursions that involve walking. This will not be a sedentary trip, but we are reasonable too. After all, we are celebrating our THIRTY FIFTH anniversary! Not our fifth! We are old people.

After we return home, I will be working very hard to lose and tone. That will give me about 2 months of intense working at my goal. But then, there is “Birthday Season.” We have five birthdays in twenty four days, beginning the 17th of October. We have one party; I refuse to do five parties. Halloween is thrown in there and I will try to be good; but after “Birthday Season,” we have about 15 days until Thanksgiving.

Sprinkled in here and there will be bridal showers. I don’t go to as many Christmas parties as I did when we both were working and there were other things going on, but there are a few; and I will enjoy them.

I will consider it a good day if I can maintain from mid-October to after the New Year’s Eve wedding of my son.

Work out? Yes. Get stronger? Yes. Lose weight? Probably not.

But then, you get back on track and keep on going.

Every one of us goes through these times, and there just has to be some acceptance of it. These are the celebrations of our lives. If we can maintain, it’s really a victory.

Tuesday, June 5, 2012

What Happened To "Choice?"

I will disclaim that I wrote this blog before the injury of my foot. However, I will get back to normal, and the following will still apply.

The other day, a friend of mine and I were talking at fitness class. She has been retired for a number of years, and then did something, and then did something else, and finally she is done. I don’t know when her birthday is, but she should be 60 soon. She was saying she is finally over the idea she needs to be “doing” something. I have recently had my hours cut back, and I am in the same place. My pay is but “an allowance” and I am not really “doing something.”  And we are so over it!

I came of age when women were being “liberated.” While I support higher education for all those who need it to do whatever is their hearts’ desire, if I recall, it was something about “choice.” How did we get from “choice” to “really not so much choice?”

As I write this; we have just had the brouhaha over Ann Romney “not working.” This is not a political blog, but when did a family’s personal decision become the rest of our business? Is this NOT about choice? If a husband and wife decide that only one of them will work outside the home, and this certainly is about role-reversal too, then it’s THEIR PERSONAL DECISION! When did we, as a society, begin looking down our noses at women—or men—who CHOOSE not to work?

If they are not raising children, which is a JOB and don’t even get me started on that; we, as a society think “something’s wrong!” HOW did we get to this place, if it’s really all about choice?

So I, who have always thought counter-culturally, decided to raise a family instead of pursuing a career. This was a decision we made; so my husband’s retirement is my retirement. While I may work full-time again, I am perfectly fine if I never do. My self-esteem does not depend on money in the bank!

I have to admit, I don’t have the freedom to go out with friends as much, or to shop for knickknacks for decorating our home in some cute fashion, or go to “home parties,” but I will say this—I have enough clothes for my lifestyle, I have enough for the fitness club and getting my hair done, we have food on the table and that most important of commodities—time—for each other!

Why does society commercialize, and feed us with a message that if we don’t have this, and we don’t buy that, and we don’t provide our adult children with the other thing, there is something wrong with us?  (I don’t know how many people have told me I MUST buy clothes for my granddaughter and I think “WHY? Her parents make more than we do!”)

Think back to Grandma or even Mom. They were still quite busy after the children were gone! There was always something going on, and they had time to give back, or ahead as the case may be. They had lives! And, except for Christmas and birthdays, we didn’t have a lot of gift-giving. I don’t remember feeling deprived or feeling that I was not getting something I was entitled to!

I do remember my maternal grandmother trying to bribe me to get my bangs cut. I remember thinking, “Who do you think I am, that I can be BOUGHT when I am committed to something?” Actually, I was committed to rebellion, but it was harmless overall.

So today, I continue my rebellion in being “just fine” with not working. I can volunteer, keep house at my own pace, not the break neck speed I used to; read, write this blog, study to teach a Sunday school lesson every week, go to the fitness club almost daily, work in doctors’ appointments and hair appointments, and maybe visit with a friend on average once a week.

As I think of the past week, I worked two days, I had a repeat mammogram, a hair appointment, went to the gym every day, cleaned the entire house, had company for dinner one night, ate out with a friend another night, went to choir practice, and went to a high school baseball game. There is ALWAYS something to do—and there is plenty of time for quiet and reflection also. I feel that life is in balance, not perfect, but in balance.

I really should do more with cooking though. My grandmothers would not be impressed.

Friday, June 1, 2012

My Fitness Journey: Derailed!

To love, honor and cherish; in sickness, health and stupidity. I think we need to add that last word to the vows.

I don’t think the Love of My Life loved being wakened at 2:00 AM, and I don’t think he cherished driving me to the ER after I did something just plain idiotic. But he honored me by doing it, and I was thankful to have a hospital volunteer—the latest addition to his resume—with me as I didn’t know where we were going at the new Springfield Regional Medical Center emergency room!

You would think I would learn. Number one, when you inevitably get up in the middle of the night to pee, you do NOT check your email. Number two; it is not a good thing to sit on your foot, as I have been doing most of my life. It’s not good posture and it’s just not good. Number three, when your foot does go to sleep because you have sat upon it to check your email which you shouldn’t have been doing in the first place, do not attempt to stand on it!

I went down. 


I knew I had hurt myself, but since my foot was asleep, I didn’t know how badly I was hurt.  Even in the middle of the night, I knew I needed ice. I crawled to the refrigerator, got some ice and attempted to sit in the recliner. I know the RICE acronym; I work in a school that trains nurse aides, for cryin’ out loud! Rest, no choice; ice, check; compression, not so sure about; and I had it elevated—well, somewhat.

After an hour of pain, I decided that I had better get Jerry up. This needed an x-ray, if nothing else. I figured the ER at 2:00 AM was as down as it would get, barring no gunfights in Springfield, Ohio.  Heart attacks and strokes are no respecters of time, so I would take my chances. Was I going to drive myself, or would he come along? (Since I came home on Vicodin, it was a good idea that he went!)

I was glad to have him as at 2:00 AM all doors but one are locked, and I would not have felt like taking the scenic route alone. I was efficiently taken care of, and was seen by the doctor, x-rayed and released by 3:45, even if I did feel like a complete fool. I had fractured the fifth metatarsal. One of the nurses was a bridesmaid in my daughter’s wedding. We just looked at each other and the light went on in our heads, it was kind of humorous. This isn’t what we expected this fine evening.

So stylish!
This morning I was able to get in to see Dr. Thompson. I love Dr. Thompson. I have a relationship with him that goes back to when I had an athlete in high school. He is very familiar with both my knees and my son's knees. Jerry went with me and he sat on my left while Dr. Thompson sat on my right facing both of us. His eyes took on a little twinkle and he said something to the effect of, "You know you are going to have to stay off your feet and someone else will have to do the housework and so forth." With my right eye, I am winking away at him. I love this guy!

So now I have 6-8 weeks in this lovely new footwear, and I have to take it easy. 

I realize this is going to set me back on my Fitness Journey somewhat. I am trying to think of ways to keep up and it’s not going to happen. I need to continue my quest of lifting weights, but NOTHING and I mean NOTHING with weight-bearing involved. If I can maintain my weight, we will call it victory. The manager of the fitness club says that even in rest, I will continue to burn calories, if I am in good shape.

Since “my good shape” is a work in progress, we’ll see how that goes! I am holding you to that, JD!

JD also said to me, "Sometimes God is trying to tell us something, like to slow down," and I am thinking about that too. Today I thought of the blessings of this, as I realized the inconvenience of having to re-schedule our Alaskan vacation.

  • This happened during the summer and my wardrobe will be capris and skirts. Period.
  • This did NOT happen two weeks before my son's wedding.

It could have been worse!