Tonight's new "Sopranos" -- anyone see it? I won't spoil any big developments, but a couple of moments had me cracking up with recognition. There's the scene where Tony weighs himself, looks incredulously at the number that pops up, and starts removing his shoes and then his pants and reweighing himself. (An aside: Does James Gandolfini really weigh 280-odd pounds? Because that's pretty much what I weighed when I started out. Wow.)
One of the actors has dropped a huge amount of weight since the last series, and the writers have dealt with it by turning the character into the stereotypical Annoying as Hell Dieter. He's constantly babbling about his exercise regimen and his eating to characters who couldn't be less interested. Quite the contrary -- most of those characters love their food. I've always liked it that people on "The Sopranos" eat, and eat with gusto. I don't know why, but it makes the characters seem even more real and even less like standard-issue plastic Hollywood dolls.
Anyhow, I asked my husband "I'm not like that Annoying Dieter guy, am I?" He assured me I wasn't. Heh. It doesn't bother me to think that I used to put away as much food as Tony's crew, but heaven forbid I be an Annoying Dieter.
After what seemed like an eternity of cold, chill, and bone-cracking winds this winter, spring hit my area this weekend. It's been amazingly warm; by Friday afternoon I was regretting wearing my leather coat to work. Yesterday we went for a small walk on a trail near my husband's office; I felt perfectly warm in just a T-shirt and my workout pants.
I can barely believe that just a month ago, we were almost ass-deep in snow.
And this morning, we went for a bike ride. I haven't been on my bike since well before the Olympics started; the trail seemed permanently icy and muddy and mushy and it's been too cold recently for me to bear the thought of being out there.
I rode out to the trail with the thought that because this was my first ride in a while and because "C-/D+" would be a very generous assessment of my fitness efforts over the last couple of weeks, I was going to take things ultra-easy. If I couldn't get up hills that used to be simple for me, no big deal. What mattered was that I was doing it at all.
Has anyone else noticed that sometimes when you give yourself permission to take it easy, you actually end up working harder? I surprised myself by getting up a couple of steep-ish hills without even having to go into my lowest-resistance gears, much less get out of the saddle and walk. I must have been doing something right these past few weeks, because my legs don't seem to have lost much strength at all. Perhaps all those walks up the broken escalator at my Metro stop have paid off.
And we set off on what was for me a whole new adventure: My husband carried my bike across the stepping stones that take you to the other side of the creek that carves up our trail. I've done that walk on foot before, but I'm way too uncoordinated to try schlepping the bike over the creek by myself; I can get the whirlies if I look down. (Yes, I know it's silly.) My husband has done this before and has asked me if I wanted to join him the last few times we've been out together. It always sounded like a rough ride, but I felt good and confident this morning and finally agreed to try it.
We rode along the trail on the other side of the creek and eventually made our way to the Centreville Power Lines trail that connects to our little trail. We stood under the power lines, which make a very ominous sizzling, crackling sound, and I eyeballed the trail. It stretched in the distance as far as I could see, with a noticeable upward slope. I groaned a little, envisioning myself walking and pushing my bike along like a doofus while my husband sailed to and fro past me.
That didn't happen. Although I felt a pretty powerful burn in my thighs, I never had to get off the bike. I rode out to where the trail runs alongside the road; after I got tired of braving intersections and getting stuck behind joggers, I turned back.
And the ride back down that trail was pure joy; I sailed down the hill, standing up on the pedals and laughing at the feeling of flying. How had I stayed off the bike for so long? How could I have been so reluctant to get back on this morning?
And I came to an epiphany about my lame exercise efforts: In a couple of weeks, the time is going to change. We'll get that extra hour of daylight in the evenings, and this is going to open up all kinds of exercising options. I'll be able to ride the bike after work, or just walk the trail. Maybe I won't chafe at being on the treadmill when I've got options beyond being stuck in the cold, damp basement gawking at the TV while I'm jogging along.
I was worried about slipping back into my sedentary life, but not anymore. Everything is going to be fine.
