Huffin' and puffin'

Realization of the day: chubby and out of shape = miserable workout.

It wasn't even supposed to be a workout. The roommie and I both had hellish days at work-- waiting on other people to give you information so that you can do what your supposed to do and then give your work to someone else who needs it before they can do what they're supposed to do, within a two-hour deadline... yeah. Also, working in a higher-education institution lends itself to perks (like great cultural events that come to campus and are free for faculty and staff) and certain disadvantages (like everyone thinking their program/unit/department is the most important on campus). I suppose you get that disadvantage in every workplace. But still, it's a little frustrating when you know that the world really revolves around your office. Haha, just kidding.

When I got home Michelle was vegging out in our corner chair, catching up on Grey's Anatomy, and I headed straight for the (can you guess?) Ruffles and ranch dip. (This, I'm realizing, may be part of the chubbiness problem.) We caught up on our days, our drama and moaned about being tired, and then jointly decided that what we really needed was to expend a little energy. Out came the bikes.

Now Michelle is mountain biker extraordinaire, and my bike has been on the back porch covered in a tarp since I moved to Asheville last November. Six months, baby. Six months of sedentary winter living. "Winter living" means eating, huddling up in lots of blankets, and more eating. Eating things like alfredo pasta, and broccoli and rice casserole, and hot apple cider, and Godiva hot chocolate. These things are heavy, creamy, and full of sugar and fat that keep you nice and warm all winter long. And I needed to be nice and warm. I am a Florida girl after all, and I had a hard enough time just getting used to the fact that I couldn't just jump in my car to go to work in the morning and drive off. I had to wait for the ice to thaw or try to scrape it off (usually without much success, though I'm blaming the ice-scraper). So it was pure survival mode for me.

Michelle and I didn't have the drive to load our bikes up into our cars and go to a local park, so we decided to ride down the main road and use the sidewalks. For the first five minutes I was smiling like a loon. (Cheri, I didn't know what a loon looks like, or even that it was a bird, but I have heard that they smile a lot. Or did I get my expressions mixed up?) "Now this is North Carolina living," I said to myself as we cruised downhill in the twilight air.

We rode for 28 minutes and went 3.5 miles, according to Michelle's do-hickey that she keeps on her handlebars. Anyone who isn't as silly as me realizes that after you get to the bottom of the hill you're cruising down, you have to go back up another. Let's just say that I got my half-hour of exercise with a consistently elevated heart rate this evening. Michelle cheered me on for the last quarter-mile, because she's a good sport. I felt like I was on Biggest Loser.

So, this is what I have surmised: a) I am chubby and out of shape, b) I do not want to be chubby and out of shape, and c) I probably need to lay off the Ruffles and ranch dip and spend more time on the bike.