Walking, recipes and The Saint
I slept in (for me) and didn't get up until 8:15. Well, the fur babies had us up at 5:00 to feed them, which I did, but I was so tired that I got back in bed and went right to sleep. Went I went back to sleep I must've been in some funky position because when I woke up again , my always touchy back was in full protest.
So instead of giving my back the proper time to wake up and loosen up, I headed out the door for my walk at about 8:55. A mile into my first 2 mile loop through my neighborhood, I knew I was in trouble. My back was so not happy. Neither was I considering it was only about 40 degrees outside with a really chilly strong wind out of the north. My subdivision is literally in the middle of cornfields so there's nothing to break the wind when it comes storming out of the north like that. Brrr!
I was tempted to turn into my driveway after the first loop but like a moron, I pressed on and finished the second loop. My back screamed in protest every step of those two miles. If I had had my cell phone with me, I would've called my husband to come pick me up. When my back gets like that, all I can think about is putting one foot in front of the other. I can't concentrate on my breathing, my posture, my speed, nothing.
So needless to say, I'm not doing much of anything the rest of the day except watching the White Sox game and cooking. I love to cook but during the week, I don't have a lot of time. My wonderful husband is so easygoing that he doesn't care that weeknight dinners have become big salads, Subway sandwiches, or fruit and veggies plates. To make up for this, I cook big time on the weekends. I tried three new recipes this weekend. Friday night I made a garlic chicken pizza that was awesome! Saturday night I made a baked shrimp with feta cheese and steamed asparagus and zucchini. Delish! Tonight we're having grilled pork tenderloin with mojo sauce, mashed potatoes and more steamed zucchini.
I hear from other women all the time that their husbands aren't supportive of their weight loss efforts, they continue to bring junk food into the house and won't try healthier recipes. My husband is the complete opposite. I could tell him I'm going on the berry, grass and twig diet for the next six months and he would say "If you feel that this would help you, I'm in." He has participated in all my diets with me without complaint.
I fully confess to being a princess, high maintenance, and a Daddy's Girl with a dash of drama queeness I inherited from my mother thrown in. However, you know you're a real piece of work when your own father refers to your husband, not by name, not as The Bastard Who Married My Little Girl but as The Saint. Believe me, I know how lucky I am to have this sexy, loving, hot tempered, talented, goofy, patient, increasingly infuriatingly conservative, gentle, procrastinator as my partner. He keeps me sane. He keeps me laughing. He keeps believing in me even on, especially on, the days when I don't believe in myself. Big love to you baby!
So instead of giving my back the proper time to wake up and loosen up, I headed out the door for my walk at about 8:55. A mile into my first 2 mile loop through my neighborhood, I knew I was in trouble. My back was so not happy. Neither was I considering it was only about 40 degrees outside with a really chilly strong wind out of the north. My subdivision is literally in the middle of cornfields so there's nothing to break the wind when it comes storming out of the north like that. Brrr!
I was tempted to turn into my driveway after the first loop but like a moron, I pressed on and finished the second loop. My back screamed in protest every step of those two miles. If I had had my cell phone with me, I would've called my husband to come pick me up. When my back gets like that, all I can think about is putting one foot in front of the other. I can't concentrate on my breathing, my posture, my speed, nothing.
So needless to say, I'm not doing much of anything the rest of the day except watching the White Sox game and cooking. I love to cook but during the week, I don't have a lot of time. My wonderful husband is so easygoing that he doesn't care that weeknight dinners have become big salads, Subway sandwiches, or fruit and veggies plates. To make up for this, I cook big time on the weekends. I tried three new recipes this weekend. Friday night I made a garlic chicken pizza that was awesome! Saturday night I made a baked shrimp with feta cheese and steamed asparagus and zucchini. Delish! Tonight we're having grilled pork tenderloin with mojo sauce, mashed potatoes and more steamed zucchini.
I hear from other women all the time that their husbands aren't supportive of their weight loss efforts, they continue to bring junk food into the house and won't try healthier recipes. My husband is the complete opposite. I could tell him I'm going on the berry, grass and twig diet for the next six months and he would say "If you feel that this would help you, I'm in." He has participated in all my diets with me without complaint.
I fully confess to being a princess, high maintenance, and a Daddy's Girl with a dash of drama queeness I inherited from my mother thrown in. However, you know you're a real piece of work when your own father refers to your husband, not by name, not as The Bastard Who Married My Little Girl but as The Saint. Believe me, I know how lucky I am to have this sexy, loving, hot tempered, talented, goofy, patient, increasingly infuriatingly conservative, gentle, procrastinator as my partner. He keeps me sane. He keeps me laughing. He keeps believing in me even on, especially on, the days when I don't believe in myself. Big love to you baby!
posted by Nichole @ 9:25 AM
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