Exercise Happy Piggies

10 weeks ago the Oregon Employment Department sponsored a "Healthworks" event for their employees. I organized a team of 10 in our little office, we coined the name "These 100 Piggies" honoring our ten little toes who would be doing all the work, and set out to take over the world!!!! Okay.... we actually set out to accomplish a very reasonable weekly goal of 30 minutes of exercise a day, 5 days a week.

2 days ago, this contest ended. The Piggies logged over 553 hours of exercise during that 10 week period. Many Piggies went above and beyond the requirements, and set personal goals for themselves regarding amount of exercise, type of exercise, and even weight loss goals. It was inspiring to witness and be a part of such a group effort. Especially with such an outstanding success rate. The final results from other teams have yet to be released, but I feel like it was a win.

I calculated that at my rate for the last ten weeks of approximately 95 hours of exercise, I exercise almost 500 hours a year! Out of a possible 8760 hours per year. So, 5.7% of the year I am exercising. Next year's goal: 6.0%.

A big thank you to the Oregon Employment Department Healthworks for being health-conscious! Sitting at a desk all day has to be off-set somehow.

Good job Little Piggies!

Rediscovery

I've rediscovered blogging. I mean, obviously, I'm only blogging for myself at this point - but heck, I'm entertaining. Or easily entertained.... or both? My main reason for undiscovery up to this point was that I forgot the name of my own blog! Can you believe it? The mind is a sieve and all that.... Anyway, I finally remembered it, and I would like to thank all these other bloggers out there who rekindled my desire to remember my blog and to actually BLOG! People are posting recipes and craft ideas and stories and gardening tips. It's amazing. Some of my recent favorites are NW Edible Life and Queen of Quinoa. UHHHHHmalzing!

Sidenote: Autumn is beginning and it's been beautiful so far. Crisp clean air, cool blue skies, a small snap of wind, perfect sweater and scarf weather but still warm enough to golf. Can't get any better.


Today I am going to Catherine Creek for a hike after work - a nice little jaunt in the most beautiful place - the Columbia River Gorge. I was told by a co-worker to take a snake bite kit. Since I don't have one, let's hope I won't need one. I'll wear long socks.... cotton is thicker than snake fangs right? Right??? Anyone? Bueller??

I'm glad to be back, regardless of who is reading or viewing or laughing with me or at me.

I am happy, I am hydrated, I am alive. I have a roof over my head, a job I enjoy, and a wonderful support group of friends and family.

Rediscovery = success.

Where does the soul hide?

I like this idea: Love makes your soul crawl out from its hiding place. -Zora Neale Hurston. Although it brings up the question: where does the soul hide? And what is it hiding from? 

This is my "repeat" song of late. It's beautiful in my humble opinion. I wanted to paint the lyrics on the wall of my bedroom in The Dalles, but the lyrics, despite being poignant, are extremely sad. I decided on "Blessed" by Brett Dennen for the wall instead. We (the tennis team) head to Oklahoma Sunday at 3 a.m. for my (potential) last round of collegiate matches. I am excited, and nervous. 

Studying or Singing?

Let me introduce you to a brief snippet of my mid-term study playlist. I had to go with soothing songs because anything upbeat just makes me start dancing or head-bobbing, neither of which contribute to me writing why Ruben Dario is considered the father of Latin American modernism.... These songs don't stop me from singing along or humming, since I can't whistle, but they don't provoke dancing anyway.

1. In the Sun
2. Desire
3. A Different Kind of Love
4. I Will Follow You into the Dark
5. Someone Somewhere
6. Slow Dancing in a Burning Room
7. Blessed
8. Emerald Sky
9. Telling Stories

Ok, I rock out a little on the last couple :)

P.S. If you are interested  - Ruben Dario is characterized as a writer of the "el modernismo" period because of his chromatism, exoticism, use of synesthesia, mythology and fantasy! Finished my paper, yay.

Sick Again

You know what really gets my goat? Recurring, never-ending, cyclical bouts of sickness. Dang annoying to say the least; and I was doing so well. But, yes, it's struck again. Before I list my multitude of ailments, some self-induced I'm sure, may I just comment that one of my pet peeves is when I obsess over my own snotty nose, dry throat, pounding headache.... need I go on? Can you have a pet peeve that is self-directed? Well, I do.

So, in the interest of avoiding the annoyance sure to come at the review of my own whiny blog post, I will instead direct you to Peggy Ann McKay, main character of Shel Silverstein's poem "Sick". She will invite you to the world of the sick, but also leave you with a laugh. Read and enjoy, while also avoiding any sickies in your vicinity.

Fingers crossed for speedy recovery to anyone sharing my boat out there!

Portland

First off, a HUGE HUGE thank you to everyone who came out for little LC's tennis match against University of Portland this last weekend. It was amazing to have fans. I mean, it was super amazing to have fans cheering and yelling, but it was just plain amazing to have fans period. Portland was rainy, traffic was bad (thanks Obama), and the tennis center was approximately 37 degrees Fahrenheit. But still, droves of supporters showed up. On behalf of my entire team, thank you, we love you, and next time bring space heaters....!

But seriously, on a more personal note - staying in The Dalles for a couple days was, I'm not exaggerating, heaven. Nothing beats the feeling I get rounding that last corner past Celilo and seeing the lights from The Dalles. I thought I would get tired of it honestly, I mean who gets excited to come home when they still spend every summer there... oh wait.... me... I do. I'm kind of proud I was never one of those kids who HATED The Dalles with every single bone and couldn't wait to get out of there and move to Troutdale... which is so much better because it has outlet malls? Well, I was more the kind of kid who cried when she left for college... every year. Haha... I so wish I was joking. That ordeal became a running joke in the family, so I guess the tears weren't a total waste of energy. Back on track, I stayed with my grandparents this weekend, and I underestimated how enjoyable that would be. Grandpa told me all these cool old stories about where his family was from, and how we ended up out here in Oregon, and it was just cool. Ok, I'm a bit of a nerd, I realize, but come on people, my grandparents are getting older... and well, you know.

So we've got the point right? The Dalles is off the hook, if you'll allow some gangster-ese. The best part is still to come - Portland match begins, and my poor mom is sitting in the balcony all by her lonesome. And then Ciara's dad appears, followed by Sammie's (aka Spammy's) parents. And that was only the beginning! Soon there were more fans than players on the two teams combined. My little cousin Lily was there; consequently she was later voted cutest little kid ever by my entire team, and Alex drove down from Seattle to see me play! Too bad I lost, right? Almost pulled off the second set... I couldn't disappoint all the people who had probably lost half of their toes to frostbite at this point just to watch our team hit some tennis balls over the net. Follow up the tennis with some authentic African leg of lamb at Horn of Africa restaurant and we had ourselves a great great day.

We came back with some strength the next day against Whitman and won all 14 of our matches, just FYI. In case you were worried about our esteem as a team, we're doing fine. It's amazing how much a weekend like that helps bond a team together, and what a great city to do it in. We love Portland! Many thanks to all, thank you for being so kind, cheerful, loving and so dang Oregonian! Much love.

more music!

Skin and Bones by Romance on a Rocket Ship - a constant favorite of Marina and I at tennis practice. Something about the chorus I think.