NIAW: Dont Be Sally – A Lesson in Infertility Etiquette

Disclaimer: I have not personally been on the receiving end of all of the comments below. This post is meant to bring awareness, but is also meant to be a tongue-in-cheek post. This is not meant to make anyone feel badly. This is written with the understanding that these comments are intended to be helpful. If I have insulted you, I apologize. However, I am blunt. I will not apologize for that. Here’s the thing: I get that you can’t know our situation unless we tell you. But once you do know, please just try to be sensitive. Just like you wouldn’t want me telling you to just relax when you find out you lost your job or say that “your loved one is in a better place” after suffering a loss.

Every infertile knows a Sally. (name not chosen for any particular reason)

Every infertile has a list of suggestions or comments that make us cringe. I personally rate them at three levels:

1. Eye roll – the mildly annoying but forgivable. These include:

• “Just relax and it’ll happen” – yeah, tried that
• “Oh my gosh if I even LOOK at my husband I get pregnant” – great for you
• “Just get drunk and it’ll happen” *cough* tried that *coughstumble*
• “Take a vacation and it’ll happen” – first, you have to take a vacation at the right time of the month, and if you happen to be like us and trying to save for an IVF, we can’t afford the vacation. Trust me, we WANT a vacation! (and may be able to get both thanks to IVF Vacations!)

2. Huge sigh – the moderately annoying but forgivable if its understood it came from the right place

• “Just adopt” – I GET where this one comes from, and unless you’ve had any education on what adoption entails, it seems like a fair suggestion. I’ve considered adoption and in fact would like to adopt in the future. Just not right now. Adoption, however, is extremely costly, time consuming, and overwhelming. You have to go through a home study, a background check, answer questions about your relationship etc.  There are no match guarantees. They can fail just like fertility treatments. On top of that, you really have to be READY in mind, body and soul before taking that step. Just try putting yourself in our shoes – if the children you gave birth to never existed and someone said this to you, would you be ready?
• “Just do an IVF” – although this is our current plan, sometimes I want to say “Ok great, you willing to give us 15k?”
• “Take mine for a day – you’ll reconsider” – really? REALLY?
• “Just be glad you get to sleep in” – I wake up at 6am on weekends anyway. Plus, come on!

3. Death stare  – did you seriously just say that?

• “Maybe you aren’t meant to be a mother”
• “Maybe that’s just the way it’s supposed to be” – I’m sorry, who died and made YOU God?

So back to Sally. (conversation is fictional)

You’re at a gathering, glass of wine in hand (thankfully), when Sally,who is more than likely no more than an aquaintence, walks up and starts a conversation. It begins honest enough. She introduces her husband and you introduce yours. You talk about how you met. She shows you pictures of her kids (probably on her Iphone – who has wallet pics anymore?) and then asks the infamous question – “so, do you have any kids?”

I’m an open person, so I typically respond something to the effect of “we’re trying, but haven’t had much luck”.

“Oh my Gosh!” Sally says, “if my husband even LOOKS at me I get pregnant. I mean, I was barely off the pill and BOOM!”

You stare, unsure of how to respond. She continues.

“You know what you should do? Just drink that wine and go get it on! You’ll get pregnant in no time. Just relax!“

At this point I usually offer more detail – it’s been several years,we have a condition, etc.

“Oh, well why don’t you just adopt? Or do IVF? Technology is so crazy these days”

Insert short blurb about expense and stress of IVF and adoption here.

“Oh, well don’t worry, you’re young, just enjoy being able to sleep in. It will happen when its meant to. In the meantime, you can take my kids for a couple of days – you might change your mind then! Maybe you are meant for something else – maybe this is the way its supposed to be.”

By the end of that conversation Sally has been on the receiving end of 3 eye rolls, 3 huge sighs and 1 death by stare.

Don’t be a Sally.

Death by stare is no fun.

For more information

NIAW – Dont Ignore….Your Strength

This week symbolizes a great deal for those of us pounding our heads against the infertility wall. (So that’s why I have a headache…) This  week, National Infertility Awareness Week, gives us a voice. The theme “Don’t Ignore Infertility”, is meant to bring awareness to others about what Infertility is. While I absolutely believe in the importance of this and will likely publish a couple of posts this week to that effect, I think its more important to start with us – the ones who face this every day.

In the 6 months that I have been blogging, I have read hundreds of stories. Many of us have been at this for years and have suffered multiple miscarriages and failed cycles. We’ve gone through counseling and attended (or avoided) a dozen baby showers. We’ve prayed, we’ve taken our temperature at 5am and taken just about every available natural remedy. We’ve depleted our bank accounts, infertility insurance, and emotions.

And yet we are still standing.

Infertility has a way of leaking into every aspect of our being. Marriages suffer. Vacations go by the wayside. We give up hobbies to allow our bodies to be in an optimal situation, if you will. Something that was taught in school as so simple and natural (and why you should ALWAYS wear protection) suddenly makes no sense. No one taught us that this might be difficult. We feel that mix of emotions when someone announces  a pregnancy that I can only describe as a “happy depression” -happy for the friend who is blessed with a pregnancy, depressed because we have been passed over yet again, especially so when it’s a second or third child.

But we are still blogging.

We’ve ridden the roller coaster of hope, whether through a natural cycle, IUI or IVF. The rollercoaster that finds us high with possibility one moment and crushed with failure the next. We’ve questioned our bodies, our expectations, the way things are “supposed to be”. We find ourselves drying tears and wondering if we want to get on the rollercoaster again - if the ride for the 34th time is really worth it.

Somehow, we are still trying.

If there is one thing I’ve learned from this group of women I have met both in real life and in the blog world, it is that we are incredibly strong.

We don’t really have a choice. There is no way we couldn’t be.

There is no way around it. Infertility sucks. We question. We scream. We cry. But we are still standing, we are still blogging and we are still trying for the chance to have a family, the chance we will all get someday.

This week, during National Infertility Awareness Week – Don’t Ignore Your Strength.

For more information:

http://www.resolve.org/infertility101  (Basic understanding of the disease of infertility.)

http://www.resolve.org/national-infertility-awareness-week/about.html (About NIAW)

April ICLW and National Infertility Awareness Week

Greetings ICLW’ers. I think its fabulous this months’ ICLW coincides with NIAW.  I love ICLW because it forces me out of my familiar blog shell to find other fabulous blogs I might have missed otherwise.

In our case , we will hit 3 years TTC this August (ugh). We are dealing with mild PCOS and male factor. DH is currently giving himself shots 3x a week of HCG, FSH and LH in hopes to improve sperm count. At this point we have enough (sperm) for IVF, which is something we’ve planned and put off a couple of times already due to other circumstances. At this point, we are seriously considering an IVF Vacation, because at least if it doesn’t work, we get a 2 week tropical vacation. (albeit the most expensive vacation ever)We are still trying to find out some details, but think that this is probably the way to go, even though it would postpone it for a few more months.

I wrote a semi awareness post a few weeks ago when I participated in the Analogy Project with my post Another Marathon, Metaphorically. I’m going to attempt to write several posts during this week including the theme “Dont Ignore Infertility”, however, I’ll probably end up with writers block with my luck.

Thanks for stopping by

IVF….Vacation? (Yes, please!)

I made a declaration at the beginning of April. Frustrated with all the stress surrounding us, I decided 3 things were going to happen:

1. Bryan’s ex is going to leave us alone

2. Bryan is going to get a job offer

3. I ‘m going to have a miracle natural pregnancy

No, I was not drunk when I made this declaration, but perhaps I might as well have been.

On the plus side, #1 FINALLY happened. (In short, she was sueing him – it was such a huge amount of ridiculousness I can’t even explain it properly, and went on for months.)

11 days left on #2 and #3.

So we are quickly approaching the waiting period I had decided on before moving onto the IVF. I was so terribly disappointed to put it off a couple months ago, and suddenly I find myself not quite ready to jump in.

When I first started doing research on IVF’s a couple of search responses for IVF Vacation popped up. Intrigued, I clicked on them. Apparently, its fairly popular to have a procedure done overseas, and since you are there for awhile you essentially get a vacation thrown in. Unfortunately, all of the ones I researched required a 21-30 day stay- something I have nowhere near enough PTO for. And even though the cost of the IVF is highly discounted, losing money not working wouldn’t have made it worth it.

Until I came across another blogger planning to do one in Barbados.

Barbados only requires a 14 day stay. And the cost for travel, lodging AND the procedure is roughly the same as JUST the procedure would cost us here.

She so kindly sent me the website and I clicked on it. Immediately I began to drool over the beach pictures.

Seriously? (image credit)

From what I’ve gathered from her and preliminarily, you order meds and begin them at home. At a certain point in your cycle you travel there. The cost of the hotel packages (beachfront!) include shuttle to and from the airport and to and from the hospital for the procedure. The retrieval and transfer are done there, you rest for a couple of days and then head home and take the pregnancy test at home.They actually claim a higher success rate than my doc gave me here (71% vs 65%)

When Bryan and I took our most recent mini vacation, we were SO much more relaxed even for those two days. We felt like different people. And even though things are finally becoming less stressful around here, I can only imagine what two weeks in a tropical place could do.

So for the same amount of money as the stressful, try to schedule around work and clean my house while dealing with my crazy dogs bored to death procedure here, I could spend two weeks in a tropical place? (YAY honeymoon we never took!)

Yes, please!

No decisions have been made yet. If we do it, it won’t be till probably late summer so the procedure would be put off again, but strangely I feel completely ok with that.

And if it doesn’t work? At least we got a two week tropical vacation.

The most expensive vacation EVER, but I guess beggars can’t be choosers.

So, if my declarations don’t come true, I have a FANTASTIC plan B:

Don’t forget a towel to catch your drool (image credit)

An Ode to (Silly) Irrational Fears

I’ve noticed a few ridiculous neuroses lately:

1. A few weeks ago after my last 10k, I wrote about that fact that I learned of my own poor running form. At the advice of the nice guy selling shoes (though perhaps he just wanted me to buy new shoes) I googled running form and found this New Balance Website on Good Form Running.

Basically there are four steps involved: posture, cadence, midfoot, and lean. After studying the videos, I decided to try my hand at this new fangled running form, and found that the mid foot wasn’t as difficult as I feared, but did take a good bit of concentration. I’ve also been reading Born To Run, which, in short, says that all humans were born to run (hence the title) and that the invention of super cushioned, pronation controlled shoes has actually INCREASED injuries rather than decrease them. It also advocates for barefoot running, or at the very least, a shoe with very little cushioning. (read the book runners, seriously).

Anyway, the interesting thing about this is that it turns out most runners are doing it wrong and striking on the heel (which, according to the book, is mostly due to the shoe – because if you run barefoot you automatically are forced to use better form in order to protect your feet and use the most padded part), but suddenly I’m finding myself all self conscious about my running style, peeking over my shoulder periodically while on the treadmill at the gym, wondering who  might be staring at me and wondering what the heck I am doing. Perhaps because it partially feels awkward (old habits die hard), but mostly because I feel like I look funny. It’s as if I need a running disguise.

You can’t see me

Clearly I sometimes care too much about what other people think. However, I’m still working on the mid foot strike.

2. Bryan went on one of the more recent trips to the grocery store by himself, and I had asked him to pick up some hair spray. He, unknowingly (though he does pay attention because he did get me the right brand) grabbed the “flexible hold” hairspray, which to me reads: fluffy hair. However, because I don’t want to waste it, I’ve been using it and have had this immense fear of fluffy hair.

In case you don’t know, I have insanely curly hair. It has a tendency, when untamed, to become quite frizzy. Mousse and hairspray are my staple items, neither of which I could live without without an impending panic attack. Those two things, plus chapstick, would send me on a run to a 24 hour drugstore if discovered missing.  If I don’t spray enough hair spray into my hair when the day starts, I spend all day fearing fluff head:

this is actually a tame version

If too fluffly, I’ll refuse to leave my house without fixing it first, so that I might encounter

3. The ball.

I’ve played softball on and off for 20 years. (ugh I sound old). And you know what? I’m afraid of the ball.

Which is why I play outfield or first base, because very few ground balls get hit to first, and outfield balls usually slow down after hitting the grass. For whatever reason (because its never actually happened to me) I have this fear that its going to hit some rock, bounce up and smack me in the chin.

I dunno why the chin.

And yes, I continue to still play softball. I just try to stay out of the war zones.

And sometimes have a glass of wine first.

It’s kinda ridiculous.

 My heart beats a thousand times

I forgot my hairspray

And that means a run to the store

Or I won’t go out today

I could go for a run except

I’ve begun to change my stride

And I think you might be staring at me

At the treadmill by my side

I put myself in the outfield

Avoiding the “fear of the ball” curse

My stupid fears will make me nuts

Unless I shoot them first

A little Q and A

I was tagged in this fun question game by Future Fords and The Stork Diaries, and since I’ve been such a blog slacker lately, I’m being lazy and combining them both into one post.

Here are the rules:

1. Post the rules.
2. Answer the questions the tagger set for you in their post.
3. Create 11 new questions to ask the people you’ve tagged.
4. Tag 11 people and link them to your post.
5. Let them know you’ve tagged them.

I’m cheating here because I’m gonna answer the questions, but because this seems to have made its way around already I’m not going to tag anyone. However, if you’d like to participate, comment and I’ll make you some questions!!

1. What is your all-time favorite food? Chocolate!

2. If you went to college, what was your major? If not, what was your favorite subject in high school?

I actually majored in Speech Pathology in undergrad, too. And just for kicks, my favorite subject in high school was psychology. I almost majored in it, but figured Id’ be a horrible therapist because I’d be the kind of person to blame myself if someone got worse.

3. If you could change one thing about your physical appearance, what would it be?

I’d get rid of some of my million moles. They. are. everywhere. Seriously.

4. Beach or mountains?

Mountains. I live near the beach

5. What is your favorite color?

Blue

6. How tall are you?

5’3″

7. If you could go any one place in the world (money is not a factor) where would you choose to go?

Australia – I have no idea why. I have just always wanted to go there.

8. Who is the biggest role model in your life?

I don’t really have just one. I really try to follow in the footsteps of those I admire and avoid the mistakes I watch others make that I don’t want to repeat. I am not always successful, however.

9. When you die, how do you want to be remembered?

I want to be remembered for my sense of humor and ability to make people laugh. In other words, funny.

10. Do you have a favorite quote? If so, what is it?

I used to keep a book of quotes in high school – I wish I could remember some of them. I think this is more of a saying than a quote, but my most recent favorite is “I don’t stop when I’m tired, I stop when I’m done.”

11. Make up your own question!

Random fact: I am nutty about my pens. I only like fine point pens. DO NOT STEAL MY PEN!

 

1.  Finish the sentence:  Don’t look now, but _______________________________.

purple elephant zebra!  (I couldn’t think of anything)

2. What household product or beauty product do you prefer not to live without?

Hmm tough one, as I don’t have a particular preference. Generally, I’d go nuts without hairspray –  I have curly hair and an irrational fear of poufy hair. Enough said.

3.  Open your closet.  Most of your clothes are what color?

Blue

4. Wedge sandals or tennis shoes?

Depends on the outfit.

5. What is your favorite flower?

Gerbera Daisy

6. Do you any allergies?  Care to share what they are?

UGH yes, but I dunno what they are in particular. I think just seasonal.

7. What is your favorite season?

Fall – one thing I miss about living up north is the leaves changing colors.

8. Which TV family, past or present, do you think your future family will be most like?

Modern Family – The Dunfees (or however you spell it). For real.

9.  On average, how many hours do you spend on the internet each day?

I’m ashamed to answer. At least 2, on average.

10.  Ice-cream or popsicle stick?

Sherbet!

11.  Create your own question, please!

Random factoid: Once I find a song I like, I can listen to it over and over and over and over again. In fact, I often have to reset the play count on my itunes, because I’m embarrassed at how many times I’ve listened to it!

Comment if you’d like me to make you questions!

Finding Us

Several weeks ago I got an email from my timeshare.

Usually, if you don’t use the points you get for the year, they are automatically saved so you can use them the next year. You can’t use them during the high season, but at least they don’t disappear.

Apparently timeshares are also feeling the effects of the economy, because this particular email informed me that if I wanted to save my points, I would have to fork over $35.

Are you flipping kidding me?

So naturally my logic kicked in and I declared DARN YOU TIMESHARE, I will show you by scheduling a trip, so I don’t have to pay you $35!!!! We are going to St Augustine over Easter weekend!!

Because the gas will cost like $150, so that train of thought totally makes sense right?

As it turns out, it did. But for a totally different reason.

Marriage is hard. Unemployment doesn’t help. Now let’s throw in infertility. Anyone with half an iota of experience in infertility can tell you that it can ruin marriages. Even when you’re on the same page as far as the plan. And don’t get me started on the effects of your….uh….extracurricular activities.

We did some planning ahead. A wonderful neighbor so nicely agreed to watch the dogs, we took food to cook and planned on spending most of our time at the beach and the pool (yay free activities!). Although we should have saved the money, we both agreed we really  needed the getaway. So we packed the truck, said goodbye to our furry friends and hit the road.

Friday we hit the beach. Bryan was an avid kite flyer many moons ago when his family lived in Savannah, so he brought them out of the dust. He is also an avid shopper at the Habitat for Humanity Re-Store. Although I make fun of him for it, he has actually purchased some cool stuff there, including our patio furniture, a George Foreman Grill and a Cappuccino machine (I have been there a few times and have yet to find anything that cool). At one visit recently, he announced that he spent $2 on a little pup tent that we could probably use. It was still in his truck (because, shockingly, we hadn’t needed it), but we figured it might come in handy. We found a spot, and set it up. It became apparent that he hadn’t taken it out of the packaging at the store:

Coolest tent EVER

Well, at least we wouldn’t lose our stuff.

Bryan spent the better part of 2 hours putting a kite back together that his dad made for him for his birthday. After much finagling (him) and string holding (me), he was able to get it into the air. Yes, that’s what it looks like it is

He had also borrowed a medal detector from a friend so he searched for treasure

While I enjoyed the view of my (soon to be very sunburned)  feet

hi feet!

Afterwards it started to get cold, so we went back to the hotel and had a nap, cooked dinner, walked around the outlet mall to window shop (where I subsequently bought a new pair of running shoes, justifying it by saying I’m using the money we would have spent boarding the dogs…..and that I really  need to have good shoes for my feet…..what? I do) and hit the hot tub. Saturday I went running (shock, right?) and we had lunch with his mom, step dad and grandmother, who happened to live only 90 minutes away. We hit the other side of the Outlet Mall that night, but this time, we were serious

That’s my window shopping face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Although I didn’t NEED anything, I thought it would be nice to find something for the summer. In our search, we acted like spies:

Powers and Powers, super spies

Bryan also demonstrated just how cool he is:

And I tried on some SUPER attractive outfits:

For the record, I did NOT buy that.

 After our shopping excursion, we spent the rest of the evening downtown. We had a drink in this nifty historic tavern and had the BEST salad EVER at this Columbian restaurant, where I also had a giant piece of chocolate cake. Mmmm…cake.

Sunday, I got a pic with the Easter bunny…kinda.

As an added bonus, we stopped by his dad’s on the way home, where I was able to meet him, Bryan’s step mom, and their super cute Pomeranian. (of course I am not at all biased because I have one, too)

We were less than thrilled to head back to the grind on Sunday. But this trip made me realize something. We were STRESSED OUT. Not that I didn’t know that, but this trip allowed us to be US again – the silly, stupid song making, ridiculous picture taking, FUN couple we were before all of this nonsense started. We laughed, slept in, and enjoyed each others’ company. For a few days I wasn’t constantly worried about money and IVF. One of the suckiest side effects of infertility (besides the obvious) is the way that it can slowly inch its’ way into your marriage, and its’ ability to leave you feeling one day, seemingly out of the blue, that your relationship just isn’t the good solid thing it was before. You start to wonder “how did we get here?”.  These few days away helped us find US again. We need US to be successful at becoming parents. That isn’t to say that everything is perfect now that we are back home. Stress doesn’t go away, and unfortunately you can’t just run away from it. But the last couple days at least things have felt more lighthearted, and for once I’m glad to have that timeshare, so the next time I get an unsuspecting email about another charge I can say wholeheartedly TAKE THAT TIMESHARE! We will just take a trip!

Another Marathon, Metaphorically

I’ve finished two marathons.

It still feels weird to say that out loud. That, twice, I’ve trained, run 26.2 miles, and crossed the finish line. A feat I once related only to “crazy people” (well, that’s still appropriate) and people who run way too much (oddly now also appropriate).

When I started this blog, it began as a week by week training log for my second marathon, as I was preparing to do it mostly alone. A journey to the finish line. It also began as a place to log my fertility journey, as I was starting to feel more and more alone. Another journey to the finish line.

Infertility is a marathon.

At the start of the race, the excitement is palpable. We have all trained for this. We got up at the chirp of the alarm (and in my case, after several smacks of the snooze button) and regardless of the weather, regardless of mood, regardless of (most) illness, we ran. We ran 12, 16, 20 miles on a Saturday for no reason other than this day, this opportunity to run this race, cross this finish line, accept this medal, and feel this incredible accomplishment.  We skipped movies and drinks and went to bed early. Months of runs, hundreds of miles. We are ready.

Adrenaline begins pumping right from the beginning, the first few miles a breeze. A thousand or more people in your exact situation are running with you, some a bit faster, some a bit slower, but it doesn’t matter. You’re all in this together. Even if you lose the people you started with, there are still plenty around to match pace with, plenty of energy left to get yourself there.

Discomfort begins to set in as the miles add up. The number of people begin to thin. You begin to realize just how far 26 miles is. You start to wonder what you got yourself into, and start the ipod search for your most motivating songs on your playlist. If you didn’t know you could run 20+ miles already, you might consider dropping out. But ultimately the vision of the finish line, the medal, the feeling of victory keep you going. Somehow, something pops up at just the right time that keeps you from declaring defeat – a random cheer from a stranger, a particular song, knowing who is waiting for you at the finish line.

Pain sets in around mile 20. The end feels so close yet so far away. Your body starts to scream at you. The group of a thousand you started with has dwindled down to 3 or 4. The slight envy you once felt for the faster runners has turned into full out jealousy. You know you’ve trained harder than most of them. Seriously? How are you all finishing before me? You begin to feel every step, every pound of the pavement. Any change in terrain is physically difficult to recover from. Curse words are becoming more regular.  None of the three hundred Ipod songs are gonna do it, and even taking in half a Gu (an energy gel for distance runners) every mile doesn’t seem to be doing a darn thing. You hurt, you’re tired. You’ve gotta be the only one hurting this much. The finish line, though only a few miles away, feels like it’s never going to appear. The warnings that the true test is after mile 20 suddenly make sense.

Somehow, though, through combination of a force of will, stubbornness, training, and the few out of the group that stuck with you, you cross mile 26. And suddenly, though there are only a few runners left in the immediate vicinity, the crowd gets larger. You suddenly forget how sore you are because you can SEE the finish line. Somehow, you muster the energy to finish strong,  because suddenly you hear your cheering section, the crowd clapping, the announcer calling your name.  Somehow, you finished, and you feel incredible.

Also, you still hurt.  But despite it, you kept running.

When I first stepped foot onto the pavement my first run, (which was like, halfway around the block before I couldn’t breathe anymore) – I never imagined myself running a marathon. In fact, even after my first half marathon several years later I thought to myself “who wants to essentially do this twice? No thank you!”

When I first imagined myself with a family, in my house with my white picket fence (though I’d really prefer a privacy fence at this point in my life), I never imagined it would be a problem. I didn’t even know what infertility was.

I’m still waiting to cross the finish line.

In retrospect, I survived marathon training one run at a time, one week at a time, one long run at a time. I survived the race, particularly at the end, one mile at a time. It still hurt, in fact, it hurt quite a bit. At the end my calves were so sore I literally hobbled to the car.

But I’d do it all over again. I’ll remember that day and who was with me for the rest of my life. All of the pain and exhaustion was absolutely, positively 100% worth it.

One day at a time, one mile at a time, I await the day I can say that again.

This post was created as part of The Analogy Project, started in order to help others better understand the infertility experience.

Adventures in Gym Rattery

With the exception of race training, I’ve been a gym rat for years. I’ve been a member of college gyms, military base gyms and local gyms. In the fall we canceled our gym membership in an effort to save money, and because neither of us were going – I had started training for my 2nd marathon and was mainly running, and Bryan, well, he just wasn’t going.

In an effort to keep my exercising more low impact, we recently began talking about joining again. I came home after work a few weeks ago to Bryan’s announcement that he had signed a contract for the 2 of us at the brand new gym up the street. I was pis.sed at first because I knew that it was going to be more expensive, and because part of the reason I go to the gym is to take group classes, and new gyms are usually lacking in that front.

After a completely pointless and useless argument about the above and about how I totally don’t get the point of 24 hour gyms (seriously, who goes to the gym at 2am?), I acquiesced, traded in my running shoes for my gym shoes, and re-started my adventures in gym rattery.

I had forgotten one of the advantages of running is that I can get up, put on my shoes, run, come home, shower and go. Taking into account travel time, I realized I had to start getting up at the not-even-close-to-the-crack-of-dawn-time of 530am.

530 am is not my friend. I don’t like to get up before it’s light outside. The way I see it, if the sun is still sleeping, *I* should still be sleeping. Not only that, but it appears that the employees of the gym agree, because it isn’t staffed until 8am. Little did I know that even as I was arguing about the uselessness of a 24 hour gym, I would be consistently using it during its un-staffed period. That’s a first. You’d be surprised at the number of crazies who line up to take spin at 530 am. (that is, if it was available). They do apparently have an early morning Boot Camp class….that you have to pay extra for. Now, why on earth would I want to do that?

The facility itself is nice enough. I have to admit I like all the nice new, mostly non sweaty equipment except for the lack of stair machines and 3 tiny 20 inch televisions that there is no way you could see unless you were standing right under them. Why bother? Even my freakishly early morning experiences have been quite pleasant, as there are very few people crazy enough to go to the gym at the-not-even-close-to-the-crack-of dawn.

Until yesterday.

I’m minding my own business, walking on an incline on the treadmill while reading my e-book on the Left Behind series. I’m calmly increasing my heart rate while reading about the end of the world when I hear: “UUUUUUGGGGHHHH!!”

WTF?

Thinking that perhaps someone dropped a weight on their foot and might need medical assistance, I reluctantly stop reading about the end of the world and turn to figure out what happened.

I see nothing.

Weird.

I continue.

UUUUUUUGGGGHHHHH!!!

Perplexed, and now somewhat annoyed, I turn again. There are like, 4 other people there so this issue shouldn’t be hard to find. All I see to my left is a guy lifting weights…..and suddenly it dawns on me.

The man is doing his bicep curl, and uttering “UUUUUUGGGGHHH!”

Why? Why is that necessary? Do you need to feel super macho? Are you lifting a weight that is too heavy? I’ve done some weights. I get that sometimes when you’re holding your breath and exhale suddenly you might voice a little, but really is THAT necessary? Is there something about it that I don’t get?

Luckily, I brought my Ipod.

Yesterday morning I went and was relieved to find a list asking for votes on exercise classes. I requested a night/weekend  power yoga class and step class. Upon telling Bryan of this, he announced that at his next visit he was going to request “the one with all the se.x positions…?”

“The Kama Sutra?” I asked.

“Yes, that’s it!”

I shook my head.

It’s definitely going to be an adventure.

I’m Feeling Funky

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That is absolutely what I imagined in my head when I typed out my title.

Unfortunately, I don’t feel funky chicken funky. I feel….not myself funky. Like out of whack. Actually, I think the chicken above describes me quite well on a normal day, but lately I’ve felt like a funky chicken slightly drugged on sleeping pills or something…without actually taking any sleeping pills.

More than one thing could account for this. I haven’t run in almost 2 weeks, and while I’m still getting exercise, it just isn’t quite the same. Strangely though I don’t remember feeling like this when I tried it over the summer, but perhaps it’s because I hate running over the summer due to the intense humidity. (Running in a sauna? No thank you) I’ve also started getting up 30-45 minutes earlier 2-3 days a week to get to the gym before work, but all in all I just feel more tired and less motivated. I feel like my writing sucks and I can’t really get it together.

I took two naps today, though, and they were fabulous.

The weekend was a great one. I had a blast at a birthday party Friday night and it was nice to let myself hang loose for once.

And Bryan and I finally spent some gift cards we got for Christmas on some new knives. The old ones were starting to get chinks taken out of the metal, and at the risk of death I figured….better get new knives. We also got some new bathroom rugs, and decided to fork over an extra $50 to change up the bedroom a bit:

On a side note, I took a walk with a neighbor today and a couple of kids were playing in the driveway drinking KoolAid Bursts, and I had this strange desire to drive to the store and buy some, and some sidewalk chalk. Except I’m a horrible drawer. Ask anyone who plays me on Draw Something.

Anyone up for some jacks?

Normally I’d try to tie all this together and make it funny somehow, but its just not happening today. It’s been a nice, relaxing weekend, and I’m glad for that, but I hope I’ll feel more like the dancing chicken next week.