I was reading one of the books for my Category Fiction class next semester while on the recumbent bike, a big 600 pager. I finished my 30 minutes and was getting up, and my hand hit the handlebars and somehow, between the weight of the book and the solid bar, I completely messed up my pinky finger. I dunno if it's tendonitis or sprained or (god forbid) cracked/broken, but my index and middle finger are compensating by trying to push together too. It has given me a permanent Vulcan salute. And it HURTS - Socrates (my cat) just walked in the room and I twiddled my fingers at him, totally forgetting about my fingers ... and OW. Bad times.
Seriously - could I get a few more minor but mostly obnoxious injuries? They're sooooo fun. =P
Prior to the injury, my workouts were good, although three of the four were major ab blasters. My core is so sore tonight; definitely gonna need to work it out tomorrow. I have picked up a different hat for water aerobics, however ... the visor I had been wearing was too Mom-ish for my tastes. The new one is a straw cowboy hat, feminine (if a bit Bret Michaels) and a way better look on me. I swear, every last little old lady in that class complimented me on it today. They crack me up, they're such quirky women but still so sweet.
Dinner was kind of funny tonight. Mom made a Swedish meatball recipe from the Biggest Loser cookbook that sounded a lot like beef stroganoff. I was upstairs for much of the cooking, but came downstairs toward the end to see Mom positively grimacing over the pot. She looked like she was about to be sick, but of course she covered for it as soon as she saw me. She had me taste a meatball with sour cream sauce and a whole wheat noodle ... and it was delicious! The sauce was a little odd, but the meatball and the noodle? So good. Mom just stares at me and goes, "You're kidding. I was so about to throw this mess out and just order pizza." So, we compromised - I ate the pretty-damn-good meatball dish, and Mom and Dad ordered pizza (no worries, their favorite place to order from is my least favorite; didn't bother me a bit to miss out).
More good news on the food front - the doctors switched my anti-inflammatory meds to something else. I'm grateful for the change, but ... the new pills are HUGE. They come in a bottle that looks like it doubles as a "marital aid." And I have to take each pill with a full glass of water, and I'm not allowed to lie down for 30 minutes after taking one. Weird? Yes. Hopefully they work, though. I want my damn appetite back - I'm already worried about another plateau week.
Oh! I've got a hilarious story, and I keep forgetting to post it to you guys. Dad and I were discussing the spin class, and how I just pedal at a flat rate rather than pretending to pedal hard up a hill or whatever. Dad tells me he used to take a spin class with a group of people he biked with regularly around Little Rock, and they had a handful of routes they rode regularly. He said that often, in the spin class, they'd pretend they were on one of those routes - they'd go, "Okay, now we're biking up Rahling hill, stand up and gear up," or, "now we're going through Pleasant Valley, keep your speed on the curves." He finishes this story, and it takes me a moment to occur to me: my Dad LARPed. Dad and his friends LARP (IE, live-action role play) biking! I couldn't stop laughing - it's adorable and geeky, in an athletic way. He's no longer allowed to give me grief for whatever fandoms I indulge in; he's as big a geek as I am, just in a different way.
Five weeks done, three weeks to go. Well, actually a little closer to four weeks in overall time, but between the Norman trip and the few days off before New York it should come out to three weeks of serious work. I'm still floored that it's already been five weeks - part of me feels like I just got here, but part of me feels like I've been gone from Norman for months. God, but I do miss my city and my friends ... can't wait to go visit next week!
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