Archives For November 30, 1999

Boy, it’s been way too long since we last connected.

Not only have I not written here as much as I would have liked, I am behind on following favorite bloggers like One Thousand Single Days, 365til30, Contemplative Fitness, and others. Sorry, random strangers that I now consider lifelong friends, I will try to catch up soon.

I recently stumbled upon something interesting about forcing yourself to suffer for 15 minutes each day on a process that feels seemingly insurmountable. The point of this advice was that people will inevitably procrastinate on doing things that they dislike or that consider impossible to achieve.

But if you manage to devote a minimal amount of uninterrupted time each day to the activity you want to conquer, you will amaze yourself with positive results.

Here’s my dilemma: I am currently overwhelmed with a boatload of activities that I thoroughly enjoy. (Don’t you feel so sorry for me?)

I’ve got the full-time job where I’m getting paid to live a more mission-driven life. I’ve got my weekly blogging for momaha.com and radio appearances on the Pat&JT Show, which both allow me to capture memories of my kids growing up.

Speaking of those kids, I have these three amazing people looking up to me for love and support.

my proudest accomplishments

my proudest accomplishments

I’m training for my third half marathon, partially for the physical benefits I’ll reap, but more so for the chance to beat my equally competitive cousin.

And, GET THIS, I started freelance writing for a new client and recently got contacted by another interested party. If I’m not genetically wired or young enough to be a collegiate sand volleyball player, at least I get to spend my free time doing what I really enjoy: expressing myself through words.

So I guess my biggest hurdle is that my free time is slowing slipping away.

It’s a pretty spectacular dilemma to have. Facebook can wait.

Created by Heidi Woodard

You may assume you know the answer. But if you answered “pride,” I’m sorry to say you are dead wrong.

A group of cougars is commonly referred to as “twihards,” as in, intense older-aged female fans of the Twilight series. They are often categorized by their “Team Edward” or “Team Jacob” overly snug apparel and unabashed cat-calls directed towards half-dressed, half-their-age actors.

I was indoctrinated last year when Aksarben Cinema ran a Twilight movie marathon. Up to that point, I hadn’t read a single page of any of the books in the series or seen any of the movies.

I thought to myself, “What better way to find out what all the hype is about than by taking in all of the movies back-to-back (-to-back-to-back) in one sitting?”

Did I mention that Aksarben Cinema has a bar serving alcohol? I am not sure who decided to build a bar in a movie theater, but whoever it was must have envisioned how much cougars would swarm to these watering holes during movie marathons.

Cougars tend to travel in packs and this movie-going experience was no exception.I, myself, gathered together a few of my besties and we were entertained not only by what was on the big screen but also by the behavior of our fellow audience members.

I found it a bit hypocritical that every female in the theater would undoubtedly raise an eye brow and publicly shame any man who admitted getting hot and bothered by young actresses (think Olsen twins). Yet, from the moment Taylor Lautner, who plays Jacob in the Twilight movies, removed his shirt – he was only 16 when the first Twilight movie came out – women were crawling over the seats pawing and purring at the screen.

Mary Kate Olsen getting cozy with her creepy uncle…eerrrr…boyfriend Olivier Sarkowzy at a Knicks game.

Don’t look at me that way, Jacob. You are a child.

Fast forward one year, and I am preparing to experience yet another Twilight marathon with my friends. The tickets are bought. The anticipation is killing me.

We will begin around lunch time when we settle back into our seats and won’t leave until the closing credits scroll down the screen after the fifth and final installment concludes.

Yes, it is ridiculous. I mean, who in their right mind thinks it’s a good idea to stare at a screen for over 10 hours straight? The answer to that question is simple: Anyone who enjoys catching glimpses of Edward (portrayed by Robert Pattinson, who I might add, is still too young for this cougar, but has always been OF LEGAL AGE).

Maybe I did snap this photo of Edward last year during the movie marathon. Judge, judge away.

Feel free to leave a comment if you are brave enough to admit to succumbing to guilty pleasures like the Twilight movie marathon. Or simply wish me luck on staying awake past 10 p.m.

Created by Heidi Woodard

Good in theory

October 18, 2012

My grand idea to bond with my boy has practically killed me.

I don’t have a lot of opportunities to spend significant amounts of time with each of my children independently. When you have three kids, you tend to divide and conquer. And by “divide,” I mean I always end up with two and my husband one.

So when I was given a “Speed Camp” flyer that advertised a once-a-week-for-seven-weeks workout to both children and adults alike, I thought to myself, “Now HERE’S something I can do with Austin (my middle child).” He’s not a complainer and loves spending time with anyone who enjoys his company. I knew I needed to get in better shape and that he would benefit from the extra conditioning as we head into basketball season.

I filled out the flyer, wrote out the check, and walked blindly into the light.

The light that would become my death.

We have officially completed two sessions. Five remaining.

As the time ticked down on our second session, I did something I swore I would never do: I stopped working out before the workout was scheduled to be over. Because I didn’t want a gym full of kids to see me puke or faint.

I don’t think you understand how painfully embarrassing that is to a washed-up former athlete who prides herself on her overall health. To be fair, I donated blood less than 24 hours before the workout.

So when my son gave me a smug little smile once the rest of the group completed the full session, I announced, “I saved a life.”

Oh yes I did. I couldn’t let it go. I couldn’t let all of my competition know how weak I was.

Bonding over buttered popcorn at the movies would have been a better choice in hindsight.

Created by Heidi Woodard