Better Luck Next Time

Last Sunday I had every intention of going fishing. When I woke up and started thinking about the effort involved, I pooped out and took it easy that day. Another Sunday morning rolled around yesterday and it was déjà vu all over again. When I woke up, my tired body was not up for the manual labor involved. I think I’ve been overdoing it on Saturdays — yoga in the a.m., lunch, some shopping, working out in the pool, yadda yadda.

Smokers on the Edge

I just finished reading an article on the Scientific American website about research on social networks and smokers. Initially reporting in the New England Journal of Medicine, researchers examined how social networks influence smoking behavior. Now that smoking is generally frowned upon by society, smokers tend to be at the edge of their social clusters. When a smoker quits, they become more popular within their social networks.

Once again, formal research reveals the obvious — in this case, that smokers are now social outcasts. There are exceptions but generally, no one wants to be around a dirty smoker anymore.

Is it working out?

Martin and I were talking yesterday and got to a point where we had a disagreement on terminology. I said the terms working out and exercising are interchangeable — either term refers to an activity a person undertakes voluntarily to improve their health or fitness, including walking. Martin calls that activity exercise. Not to put words in his mouth, but he seems to think working out only encompasses activities involving the use of weights.

Sweatiest Yoga Ever

Tonight’s yoga practice was especially grueling. I produced the most sweat I ever have in my practice, and that’s saying a lot.

Afterwards, we tried to figure out why tonight was more challenging. And had fun reviewing the more challenging sequences of poses we did instead of our usual sun salutations. Usually we start with a set of four or so child’s poses, then modified plank, crocodile, back to child’s pose . . . Then we advance to the tradition of down dog, high plank, low plank, up dog, forward fold, down dog and on . . . Tonight, after two sets of the usual child’s poses, modified plank, etc., we did multiples of this sequence: down dog, high plank, low plank, up dog, low plank, high plank . . . Eventually we got back to down dog, then when we’d get back to up dog, we’d do low plank, high plank, down dog. I won’t go into the warrior series but it was all good!

Dancing with the what?

I feel like such an idiot when I catch myself grinning while some pretty celebrity busts a move on Dancing with the Stars. All I can figure is my love of movie musicals has kicked in. When Fred and Ginger dance into high gear, or even better, when Danny Kaye and what’s-her-name break into a beautiful song-and-dance routine just because they’re in the mood, I’m in heaven.

Call me a sap — I don’t care. I’m waiting for the day when I’m walking downtown and suddenly everyone breaks into a song-and-dance routine that rocks the world. Yes it could too happen.

Taking it easy

This morning I woke up with every intention of going fishing. I turned the coffee pot on, then got back into bed and started thinking about my fishing expedition. First I’d have to get online and check the latest pier reports, call the bait shop and see what they had going in the way of live bait, and then stop by www.weather.com to see what the wind and tides are doing today.

Spend or save?

After book club this morning I went to the track to walk. Before I’d ever gotten out of my car, I had settled on doing four miles. It’s a gorgeous, sunny day — the humidity and temp are down since yesterday’s stormy front moved through. I do my best walking at the track, where it’s rare for someone to pass me. It’s good interval training. I target a walker in front of me, then speed up to pass them and put some distance between us. And then I start looking for my next target.

Small victories

In 11 minutes, my last book club meeting for the season will begin. I’ll be attending but not until I’ve had a shower and gotten ready, which will take only a bit longer than 11 minutes. This morning I slept late and don’t feel like rushing. It’s Saturday morning. I’ll get there when I get there. It took me a while to figure out that with voluntary activities like a book club gathering, no one’s taking attendance and there’s no punishment for me if I show up late.

Mother’s Day

I saw a quote from John B. Pace on someone’s QuitNet profile this morning: “Death is just Mother Nature`s way of telling you that it`s time to quit smoking.” That’s very funny but googling didn’t reveal to me who John B. Pace is. Anyway, it’s Mother Day so of course, I’ve been thinking of Mom. I won’t call her ’til later this afternoon, which is when I always call her.

But not smoking this Mother’s Day, I figure she already has a present from me. Not really. But that’s how generous moms are, at least mine. If I’d suggested to her that her MD present this year was my not smoking, she would’ve happily accepted that. But I wouldn’t do that to my mom.

A minor Sunday morning miracle

I’m not sure how it happened but I slept until almost nine this morning. Usually, I’m lucky to get past six on a weekend morning. Granted, I was tired and stayed up a bit later than usual last night. But nine is unheard of. It felt really good but now it’s past noon and I’m still online when I should be out enjoying what looks like a nice day. I’ve got some tree limbs to saw down so they meet the city’s standards for yard waste pickup. And I’d like to take a walk and a swim.