Thanks, Treadmill.

I love the treadmill.  I hate how my body feels right now, but I know it's for all the right reasons.  My joints and muscles feel like they are made out of wood.  I don't know any better way to say it.  Splintered, old, creaky wood.  Hopefully after a week or so I'll feel loosened up.  But I love the treadmill because there's something about getting on it again that has made me feel more positive, and I've had a great few days.  Not just because of the treadmill, but I'm positive that's a huge part of it.

The other day I took the brother out for lunch for his birthday.  Man, he's old.  Ha!  We went out and ate Thai food, and it took more than a couple hours, as lunch with him usually does.  How many people can say they're lucky enough to go out for a bite with a sibling and conversation is that great that you can't believe you've been sitting there that long!  It's like that with all of us siblings, and I know I am very blessed.  It's so great to be able to get lunch with him pretty regularly, since he works out of his home, and can pretty much make his own schedule.

And then later that day I went out to dinner with the MOH.  Ahhhh.  We haven't connected in WAY too long.  It's inexcusable, really.  But we made a pact to get together regularly, even if in order to make that happen he has to type me into his iPad schedule (which looks like a nightmare, I might add).  But our lives have been through some trauma in the past several months, and I knew that since it had been so long since we've hung out, there would be much to say.  And there was.  And by the end of the night, I was reminded again that he's like comfy jammies to me.  And y'all know how I love my comfy jammies.  We went out to this awesome supper club, and since we were at a supper club, of course there were martinis, shrimp cocktail, and prime rib.  And he ordered his prime rib rare.  That was significant to me, because we grew up together in Wyoming, where people know how to eat their meat, and I'm usually the only one at the table that likes my beef to be red like beef should be.  It was strangely soothing to see him order it like that. A sign that he's still mine, that we are still the same people that we were when we were little kids.  Anyway, we talked for hours, then when we finally got kicked out--we had this really irritating waiter with a gross mustache who kept prodding us to pay up and get out--it was hard to get out of the parking lot because we were chatting out there.  Obviously we don't hang out enough.  But even though we don't, it's amazing to know that when we do get together, we're always the same.

Yesterday hubby and I surprised the kids (and us--very spur of the moment) by picking them up from school and hauling them out to the local ski hill and going tubing.  It was three hours of awesome, silly fun.  The kids were so happy, and so were we.  Up and down the hill countless times.  It was a beautiful night, cold enough to feel like winter, warm enough to never feel uncomfortable.  When we were done tubing, we had hot chocolate by the outdoor fire pit, and then walked around the ski chalet while hubby reminisced about his days in ski club when he was a kid.  It was a really perfect night.

That's me in the "Bert"hat.  Hot.

But getting back to my wooden body, tubing is harder physical work than you might think.  And now I feel like I worked out about four times yesterday!  I'm so old and out of shape.  And my (not rock-hard) abs are so sore, partly from being in such strange positions on that tube, and partly from laughing at myself.  Folks, getting in and out of that tube is hilarious when you are a slightly puffy 40-year old woman.  I had to basically tip backwards to "fall" into it ass first when getting in.  My knees and legs were sore from the treadmill anyway, so that made it even more challenging.  Then you get towed up the hill, and at the top you have this 4-foot window where you have to get out of your tube before the attendant grabs it to unhook it from the rope.  You literally have to ROLL out of the tube (the sign at the top of the hill even says "roll"!).  So I had to ROLL out of the tube at the top of the hill, then get myself, in my giant parka and snowpants and Sorel boots, into a standing position again, somehow without slipping and tumbling right back down the hill, trudge over to my tube, fall into the tube and fly down the hill again.  Then at the bottom, roll out again and get out of the way so the next pile of tubers can fly down.  And once I crashed into the hubby at the bottom of the hill and rolled over onto him.  Thank GOD it was him and not some poor stranger.  Or even worse, a defenseless little kid.  Then I laid on the ground laughing like a lunatic, making it even more difficult to get up.  Sexy.

But it's been a nice few days, and I'm going to chalk it up to the treadmill.  So now I have to go get back on it, and we'll see how it affects today's task of working with the 9-year old on his Science Fair project. What hilarity will ensue today?