catheroominations

…not a Chia Pet. Does anyone ever put one of these on their Christmas wish list? Have you ever given one as a gift? Received one?

I’m just curious.

Tonight was Matte’s Christmas party and because I was going to be unveiled as the “fiancée, upgrade” I thought I should look especially hot. So I dug out my most padded bra to add that little oomph to my otherwise lacking décolletage. I was sporting some seriously slammin’ cleavage, folks. It was as if becoming an engaged woman had boosted my boobage. I knew Matte’s co-workers wouldn’t remember that part of me from before and therefore would not know I was enhanced by modern science. They’d think it was all me, baby, and later would say, “Wow! Did you see how hot Matte’s fiancée is?”

Whatever.

Who do we sit down next to at dinner? Ms. Scarlett Johansson from the neck down, that’s who. My chest was dwarfed by her natural “talents.” And boy howdy, was that bustline magnificently accessorized! She wore a gorgeous diamond necklace that I was drooling over, and noticed instantly when she walked into the room. (I doubt most of the people at the party saw that necklace, but most of them were pigs men.) I struck up a conversation with “Scarlett” to find out where she got her jewelry, but our conversation was interrupted, so I never got my answer.

Later, I suggested to Matte that he ask her more about her necklace, as if he were going to buy me one for Christmas (I want that damn necklace). Basically, I invited my hot-blooded American male to go stare closely at another woman’s ample chest while I left the room. Am I a kick-ass fiancée, or what?

When I returned from the bathroom, I asked Matte if he got any scoop from her.

He claimed to have not heard a word she said due to large amount of blood rushing to his head. <sigh>

…and 15 or so brave boot campers showed up this morning to have a bite of it.

One of the more pleasant things about working out at 6 am is that I sometimes get to experience a beautiful sunrise. Today, there was none. Instead, we were pummeled greeted by rain. I am wet through my three layers. My gloves are drenched. When I placed my elbows on my mat to assume the plank position, I heard the squelchy sound of water oozing through the foamy pores of the cushiony mat. The water soon seeped through my sweatshirt, to the long-sleeved t-shirt and further to my skin. So I moved from elbows to hands. A bit more intense, but I thought the gloves would offer some dry protection. No. The fleece. It absorbs water too. So much for that idea.

Luckily my baseball cap provided some shelter for my face, so I could still see what I was supposed to be doing. (Upon arriving home, I removed said cap to reveal a lovely hairdo, similar to a mullet.) When we got ready to leave camp, I picked up my heavy mat, wringing out the man-sized sponge, and waded back to the car. I can hardly wait to get back into the car in my nice, warm, clean work clothes only to sit in the moist (Ali hates that word) driver’s seat.

Dammit, boot camp is fun!*

*No, seriously. It is fun. I love it.**

**I’m not kidding. I do. I love it.***

***No, REALLY!

And do you all like the new, festive look Matte gave my blog?

Scrabble:
Funny zefrank video.
This is dangerous. If you want to play a game with me, look for catheroo.
No matter how addicted I get, I’ll never be as good as the word geeks in this movie.

Crossword puzzles:
New York Times crossword (membership required). Try the Monday puzzle first!
We watched this yesterday. I can’t believe what goes into creating a puzzle.

I have only one more week of boot camp, and then a long break until the next session begins in late January. I don’t like such a long break, so I might have to join another boot camp group for the few weeks we’re off. I don’t want to erase everything I am doing now. Besides, I’m kind of addicted to it. I even miss it on the weekends. I am one sick individual, yes.

My hamstring is much better after days of sitting on bags of frozen peas and taking it (relatively) easy. Earlier this week, we broke into teams, based on athletic ability. We did what they call Indian relays, where runners are in a single file line, and the person in the back runs to the front of the line, jogs a few strides, and then the runner in the back goes to the front, and so on. (It seemed only fair to keep the hobblers together.) Team Gimp consisted of Shin Splint, Tweaked Back, Bad Knee, and Pulled Hamstring. But we’re all well now. Today I even ran around the grassy knoll twice. That’s TWO times! Running! OMG, y’all! And one of the trainers complimented me on my push-ups today. I was once taught to try and touch my nose to the floor when doing a push-up, so I drop pretty low. So what if I do them on my knees? I got a gold star for my form, so there.

But the best thing about this boot camp? They do Happy Hour. It’s not officially sanctioned by the boot camp organizers (oh, and it’s not at 6 a.m. of course), but if we get big enough beers, we could count hammer curls. That’s my kind of exercise!

I have The Weathergirls on my iPod.

I need new music.

Please recommend an album. Tell me the last one you bought. My music collection needs an extreme makeover.

I kicked my own ass today at bootcamp. For the first time since starting this daily torture routine, I was able to run the entire grassy knoll. That’s right. I ran the whole thing. This is probably not very impressive to many of you, but did I mention the grassy knoll is 5 miles around? Well, it isn’t. I don’t know how far around it is, all I know is that until today I couldn’t run the whole way around it.

I was doing so well. I wasn’t tired, or sore, or even panting excessively.

After that, I lifted my weights and did my chest presses. I walked with ankle bands around my legs and did my best John Wayne impression, going up, then down the hill. Then it came time to run some more.

Yeowch. What was that weird pulling sensation?

It was my left hamstring. You know the old joke: A man walks into a doctors office and says “Doc, it hurts when I do this.” and the doctor says “Then stop doing that.” I told my trainer it hurt when I ran, and she told me to stop running. Apparently one of my workout buddies was suffering the same ailment, so I was sent back to my mat to join her for push-ups and crunches instead of continuing the cardio workout. She warned me not to stretch my hamstring today, to ice it, and to take some Advil. As I type, I am sitting on a bag of frozen peas.

I think from now on, I will not crank the heater in the car when I drive to bootcamp. I get all nice and warm and then I am thrust into the frigid air and made to move around at a semi-quick pace and my muscles say “Oh, hell to the no!” and tighten up on me.

I hope it feels better tomorrow because I am (I can’t believe I am admitting this) actually liking bootcamp. It’s feels good to get out there and work out. I feel a great sense of accomplishment. By 7 am I have completed a challenging workout, before many folks are even awake. Plus, it feels good to do something to improve my health. Sure, it’s early. And dark. And cold. But it’s also fun.

Well, except for the pulled muscle part.