Lula died Saturday morning at 7:30 am on the couch. I watched her take her last breath. My daughter slept while it happened. I woke her shortly after. I didn't know quite what to do other than sob into my hands. My daughter's visceral reaction was to be with Lula, even though she had passed. Determined to hold her warmth, touch her soft fur, and whisper to any life Lula had left; she kept vigil without caution. When I could form a coherent sentence I told her that she eased Lula into passing in a way that most people could not do. I couldn't do it. I was already lost in my own grief. Lula was only seven. She was the happiest and funniest of dogs. She was a teacup chihuahua, minus the chihuahua attitude. We upcycled her at eighteen months from a dog hoarder in Washington. She was scared of us at first, but once she gained confidence, she loved to cuddle and and jester for her family. When we moved down to California, she played off leash extensively for the first time. S...
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I swam the weekend before last. I know, that's not interesting. My ear started bleeding after I swam. A little more interesting now, eh? Meh. Who cares about bleeding ears.... after I swam and before my ear bled, I found a flyer at the swim club for Pickleball the following Saturday. Sweet! A new sport that is free(ish) to try? Yes please! I didn't know anything about Pickleball before Saturday. I knew the name sounded funny, but nothing about the sport. I was not aware it was a retiree's sport. The main tennis coach was apparently trying to get Pickleball started at the club, but appeared to have some disdain for the game he was trying to socialize. Later, I learned that he went out on his own to pursue Pickleball knowledge, which made is disdain even more odd and genuinely comical. There are some people (men) who are a-holes that you hate, and some people (men) that are a-holes that you love. I am not sure where the line is drawn for that, but I do know it's...
I hope I haven't written too critically about studios and workout choices. My intention with this blog has been to narrate my experience as an outsider, but do so with an open mind about what I experience. Yes, Swing wasn't for me, but it really wasn't a workout class, either. And yes, the crystals were strange, but that was a part of the whole experience and needed to be shared. Have I been fair in my observations? Sometimes I can be cynical, but hopefully fair. This post will not be fair. In this post, I beg some people in this world to dial the crazy back a notch. As such, I promise to leave out any detail that would indicate where this yoga studio is located or what it is called. However, if you have practiced at this yoga studio, you will most likely know it. If you do and love it, I am sorry in advance for offending you. I drove about 20 minutes in a nameless direction to hit this studio for Saturday morning hot yoga. This Sacramento suburb is affluent. It sho...
As I am almost through my month of ClassPass, I thought it would be a great time to review this service and let you know the good, bad and ugly. Well, there's nothing really ugly about it- it's a beautiful app. It's easy to use, and overall gives you so much access to fitness options you'd otherwise have to spend a ton of money and effort on seeking out, it's a win in general. However, there are some critical things you should know. NYT ClassPass Article I was admittedly enamored with the app (also can use via PC) at first. However, as I used it, I realized that while it's a interesting concept, it may not be viable long term for me. In case you haven't picked it up, I live in the Sacramento area, and ClassPass is currently priced at $79 per month. I have read that in other cities like NYC the price has gone from $99 to $125. I imagine it's only a matter of time until it increases in this area. ClassPass is a service that charges a monthly fee...
What's one thing Spin class is lacking? Sensual videos? Massage? Champagne? Adam Levine's butt? My Friday night R Rated spin class had all that and more! When I saw this class on ClassPass, I signed up immediately... on Monday.... and I am so glad I did, because this "Adult Only" class was full. Not one bicycle remained open. The class was 100% female; 90% age 30+ spinners. When I walked in, the owner greeted me, knowing who I was, which meant I was the only lucky ClassPasser who got a golden ticket to the show. She warned me that this class was closer to rated X than rated R. It surprised me, but I was okay with it. One spinner assured me it was not X, and that I would be fine. Everyone prepped their bike, the ladies were jovial and excited. The owner whispered to the cyclist next to me "we should have had the booze before the class." She made sure everyone was good, and hopped on her bike letting us know that the class was basically a video class, but ...
If you read NOTHING else of this post, please note I will be attending a Rated R Spin Class tonight . I cannot wait to find what attributes contribute to Rated R status, but I am preparing for disappointment. I've imagined at least five ways the Rated R Spin Class could be amazingly weird, but I am pretty sure it's just explicit lyrics on the videos. I am SO HOPING that's not the case and I am SO EXCITED to Spin Rated R Style. Wait. A. Minute. Did I just say I was excited to exercise? It must be this dang zen mood that a week of Yoga has imprinted on me. Seriously. Life isn't getting any easier, but I am feeling 17% more Zen about things. This week I tackled a Vinyasa Flow class, visited again with my favorite instructor for another Yin class, and tried out Yoga at home with the kiddo. Vinyasa Flow Many times, I walk into a studio and I think business. Are they building a sustainable studio? Do I think they have a good handle on finances? What could they change...
This has officially been the worst month all year, and it just started! Let's call it the worst rolling month. In drought stricken California, it's raining in my neck of the woods. My father passed away two weeks ago. Although it's a complicated situation and a long time coming, his passing still invokes a myriad of painful emotions. Prior to his passing, I was sick. I recovered. I got sick with strep this week in Des Moines. Not that travel to Des Moines was awful; it was fun. However, when you already have all the above going on, it is an uncomfortable blur punctuated by a fever and chills. Last night, my poor little Lula, my six year old Chihuahua started having severely labored breathing. I already knew she is experiencing heart disease, which is common in her breed, but I was assured that it was just fine with medications. Last night it wasn't. I couldn't find an emergency hospital that I trusted. Instead, I waited and stayed up until this morning and made ...
Ha! You probably think I gave up the quest. I didn't. I've been living out of a suitcase in Des Moines, Iowa all week talking insurance and product management. I know, it totally sounds like such a glamorous life, and believe me... it's as glamorous as it sounds. I couldn't use ClassPass in Des Moines, and I was pretty much busy with my "emotionally expensive" team all week, so I had no time to find another class. On Saturday before I left, I jumped in a pool and swam laps for 20 minutes, so I will add this to my first week, and pretend this week never happened, OK? In some ways I do really wish this week didn't happen, because not only did I take back the frizziest of hair (Des Moines has some serious humidity!) but I took back a weird strain of strep throat. I woke up on the day of my flight and felt like I had been hit by a truck. My product gurus probably thought I had partied too hard with my out of control hair, my pasty skin and empty gaze, but ...
Warning: Before I get all cynical, I want to tell you, dear reader, that this class is actually a very sweet notion. While I live in a sarcastic Seinfeld-built bubble where I create random names for strangers like Studio Mickey and argue about meaningless detail, it's nice to know that some people don't live in that world. In this world, there's still a group of people that get dressed up, grease up the hair, and go to a East Coast Swing Class. In this world, there's still a subset of these people looking to meet another non-jaded soul that still believes in the hope that one can show up to a dance, spin a girl around, and get the girl. It's so pure. But not when you're expecting a fitness class, and not when you haven't showered after Battle Ropes, and not when Class Pass didn't indicate that this was a date or pick-up (albeit awkward pick-up) activity where you should where red lipstick and roll your hair. I should have known. Drop in Swing o...
Fitness Freak Friday: Class #1 - Battle Ropes, Studio Mice, Imaginary Partners and Sawed Off Parking Meters
Stardate: August 28th 2015 At 11:30 am today, I popped into a class that I'll probably regret tomorrow. I'll also regret that I have signed up for a 2nd class tonight that I cannot back out of due to said pending regret. Class Pass is no joke, folks. If you cancel less than 12 hours, you pay $15. It's a HUGE motivator to continue on freaky fitness Friday. Also, I have NEVER worked out twice in one day. This might be my last entry. "Captain, I just don't have. the. power." Bad Star Trek humor aside, Battle Ropes is an intense 30 minute total body workout using those torture devices you see on Biggest Loser. You've never seen Biggest Loser, you say? Only watch PBS you say? Liar. You know what I'm talking about. This is what I THOUGHT I looked like: This is what I REALLY looked like: Squirrel obsession aside, this is the first time I felt completely uncomfortable at a studio. I walked in and two lovely ladies and a buffed bro were sit...