Since I Last Blogged…
posted in Running, The Condo |We’ve been “working on” (i.e., messing up) the condo. This past weekend, we spent most of Sunday trying, without much success, to install overhead lights into prewired slots, a seemingly simple task. Except somehow, when we do things, the simplest tasks turn into minor disasters. After much cursing and fumbling, we concluded that one of the lights we bought was clearly defective (and hence it was not our fault we couldn’t get it on properly) and that the other light was meant to be slightly crooked. Oh well. At least we’ve got a bit more light in the place now. Also, a few more gaping holes until we purchase non-defective lights.
Between household chores (like laundry, installing lights, and battling against an invading army of ants), T and I went for a 5 mile run this weekend around the bluffs behind our neighborhood, which was fun. I also went to a Pilates class taught by my friend J and while I’ve done mat Pilates before, this was my first class with the Pilates machines.* I’m sore all over today. But in a good, I-feel-my-muscles-developing kind of a way. Can’t wait for the next class . . . which is unfortunately after my 12 mile run next weekend, so we’ll see if I survive to write about it. I have not been working out as much or eating as well as I should lately.
When not working out or puttering around the house, we did some reading (I finished a series recommended by a coworker while T started The Golden Compass), hung out with T’s brother (I watched while they played Halo 3), forced some of our friends to watch Serenity with us (one of my favorite movies), and caught up with one of my Quad friends who happened to be in town. (T also went to the UCLA v. Notre Dame football game, but considering the horrible outcome of that game, he’s choosen to pretend that it never happened.)
*Funny story. Upon being told that someone whistled at me on my way to Pilates (I realize I should be offended, but sometimes a good whistle is appreciated – especially when one is feeling a little tubby!), T’s response was a confused, “Why?”