You know I'd walk a thousand miles if I could just see the TV

Turns out my treadmill obsession has resulted in two casualties. But when you consider I've walked about 1,000 miles on that thing in the past year, I suppose it was bound to happen. Why can't all of my thigh dimples have been lost in the cause?

Last night, during a bout of insomnia around 2 a.m., my bedroom television went bonkers. Thankfully by unplugging my TV and the cable box, I was able to reset the hard drive this afternoon and it resumed its usual clarity. For now. Knock on wood. I actually had heart palpitations when the picture went awry. Because if I can't watch Clinton and Stacy mock bad clothing choices whilst exercising like a hamster on a wheel, I surely will avoid exercise even more than I usually do.

I did, however, replace my running shoes today. (Which I use for walking. Shut up.) I figure those shoes are one of the few things in the entirety of my life that I've actually gotten my (or someone else's) money's worth out of. They still look good due to excessive indoor exposure, but the arches have broken down a bit and they're making my feet hurt. But I don't want to take any chances, so I'll be getting a pedicure tomorrow, just in case.

The one thing I avoid more than working out these days? Working. Number of hours I should have worked when I got home tonight = >2. Number of hours I actually worked when I got home tonight = 0. I did, however, leave the office after 6 p.m. But I also came in late, went shopping at lunch, and got a massage.

Tomorrow's the second Board meeting in less than a month and I'm not sure how to say anything different than I said three weeks ago. But since most of them were asleep during that riveting presentation, I suppose I could just regurgitate old info. And since I didn't get my PowerPoint or video done tonight, I guess it's an early morning.

But the good news is it's football season, the weather is gorgeous, and I'm in a happy mood. Plus, I'm super excited that my BFF Alisa will be in Rogers for three days next week and we are hitting the town for food and frivolity. And I (hopefully) get to stay with Kelly.

Life is awesome.

Running on faith

A few months ago I had this grand idea that Jen and I should do the Race for the Cure 5K in Waco in April. Jen's been running about 10 miles a day for months, but I needed some motivation and a deadline to finally conquer my New Year's resolution of running a 5K. I'm not trying to finish in 20 minutes or anything... just run it all, no matter how long it takes. Yesterday I realized that I have about six weeks to get ready. I've yet to run more than a quarter of a mile or so without stopping to walk for a bit before running a few more steps. Six weeks, people.

My pal Sorne told me once that the key to increasing your distance is just to force yourself past the point when you want to quit, hit your stride, and you'll be fine. Famous last words. But last night, getting fearful of failure yet again (and therefore being made fun of by Lonnie for another year), I decided it was time to suck it up and press on.

The good news is that I made it two miles. The better news is that I actually felt fine this morning. Minor shin splints, but that could have been from the fabulous four-inch BCBGirls stilettos I wore today. With pointed toes. Very sexy.

As Forrest Gump said, "I just felt like running."

Oh, and as of this morning... 25 pounds lost. Yay me!

(PS... I'm headed to Melbourne via Mountain Home tomorrow for the state basketball tournament, so my updates may be sporadic. Hooray for four-day weekends!)

Beauty is pain

I'm not sure when I acquired my vanity. Oh, sure... I was concerned with the height of my bangs and the tight rolls on the bottoms of my jeans all through high school in the 80s, but it seems to get worse as I get older. You'd think, given the fact that my feet are the size of small water skis, I would care a bit less about what I wear now than I did before. That is not the case.

Take, for example, the very sexy red patent leather heels that I purchased a few months ago. Oh sure, they rub blisters and kill my arches, but they are hot. So I continue to wear them, even though I know I'll pay the price.

Today's wardrobe selection of black pin-striped power suit and cute red blouse was accented by the sexy red shoes even though I knew I'd be walking a lot. But I looked so hot! About 10 a.m. I succumbed to the blisters on both feet and came home to change into less hot but still cute black patent leather ballet flats that make my pants too long.

Yeah, I can walk further in the flats, but at what cost? I'm less confident as I walk. Fewer people stop me to comment on my shoes.

Ah, vanity, why art thou such a strong force?

My pal Alisa told me today that you get less vain around 40. That's a mere three point two five years for me (scary!), but I don't see it happening. I'll be the gal in the nursing home with the pointy-toed high heels. At least by that time, someone will be wheeling me around wearing my sexy shoes.

Cinderella had it right all along. One shoe can change your life. Wonder if the glass slipper caused blisters?

Nursery rhyme for the single gal

There was an old woman
Who had so many shoes
In the color black
That she didn't know what to do...

Tonight, when I got home and shucked off my shoes in my "shoe pile" place where they lay until I put them in my closet, I realized that I have five pair of shoes there. All black. Weird.

Once an IT guy asked me why women need so many pair of black shoes. I said, "Why do you need so many screwdrivers?" He replied, "They all have a different purpose." Exactly.

Perhaps I need professional help.