So, as of right now, I am 210 miles in towards Mordor. Go Me!
I’m managing 1 to 3 miles a day on average, and I’ve incorporated body weight workouts on alternate days. The new goal that I’ve added on to the giant pile of goals, dreams, aspirations, and wishes is: the ability to do a pull up on a bar
In other news, I’m painting a seven canvas series of The Map and Mouse Project. I’m done with 1, 2 and 3. I’m working on number 4, and it has a few lovely maps written in French on it. One of them is from 1601.
146 miles! The holidays slowed me down a little.
I’ve also added in THIS:
Quit laughing. I am unashamed to say I’m doing girl pushups off the end of my bed and picking up a box of clean kitty litter to do rows with. The 10 pound weight isn’t heavy enough any more to do anything useful. I’m building my way up to pull ups. But again… I have wimpy underdeveloped musculature on a female frame. But this can change!
Spring 2013, oil over acrylic
I’ve been buried under my schoolwork for the last month…..but I’m still walking. I had some technical difficulties with my feet, also. In short, my shoes were awful. They were causing me pain which led to not walking…….which led to pain in a different area, namely my back. This, of course, is terrifying. The idea of not being able to walk again is almost as paralyzing as the inability to walk. It’s bad. I’ve spent the last several weeks freaking out that I couldn’t walk more than a mile or so at a time because of my shoes. I’ve been in pretty acute pain 24/7 for about 3 weeks.
My solution to this depression-inducing problem was that I went back to my old standby…….Doc Marten mary janes. They just plain work for me. They fit my feet and I can go forever in them, and they last for years. My cheap boots on the other hand……….are seriously growing holes in them after only 50 or 60 miles. I mean it. I’m wearing through the soles and I can see little squares and the beginnings of actual holes. Fashion: phooey.
Anyway, the great news is that I haven’t given up. I have now walked 90.3 miles out of 1779. (the distance from the Shire to Mt. Doom, for those of you who are just now tuning in) I also held a plank for a record of 36 seconds. Shhhh. Don’t tell anyone. I’m contemplating learning to conquer my fear of being upside down and morphing this plank into a wall assisted handstand.
Ok, yes. The guilt is eating at my soul. I am willingly hanging on to this late library book because I *must* finish it. What is it, you ask?
Do I have french homework due in 6 hours?
Do I have a sculpture duct taped to my kitchen floor waiting for me to slather plaster on it for the umpteenth time before painting it and turning it in to my 3D class on Tuesday?
And what am I doing?
Blogging. Practicing learning music notes on the grand staff. Eating green beans. Watching the cat have a hissy-fit full-speed run back into the apartment with a fluffed up tail. Some leaf or wooden fence post must have looked at her. She’s jumpy like that.
Oil Painting final, spring 2013