Just as I was gearing up to begin, as threatened, the C25K program and thinking so hard about it that smoke was beginning to pour out my ears and the sight of tennis shoes and sweat bands--any tennis shoes and sweat bands--was triggering the faint fluttery beginnings of a panic attack in my chest, just right in the middle of all this pre-warm-up activity, the Wii Fit happens to me.
I ask you, who among us is not powerless against the mighty hand of fate?
Certainly not me. I've had no choice but to bow to the gale force winds of destiny, temporarily and very reluctantly shelve my pre-C25K plans, and begin a Wii Fitness routine. Which I did, if you can believe it, TODAY.
What's that you say? You don't believe me? Why, I can't imagine. Here is the Wii Me contemplating my first stamped work-out day:
Think my Wii Me is looking a little squishy? You'd be right. I may have, ahem, exaggerated my actual height when I initially created my virtual self. Today, during the preliminary phase of my first Wii work-out, I necessarily had to come clean about my actual height. It was a sad, sad moment as I watched my Wii Me slowly shrink down to a length that much more closely approximated my own. There was even a sad little shrinky sound effect. Or maybe that was just in my head. Anyway.
According to the relentless calculations of the Wii Fit, my "Wii Fit Age" is (brace yourselves) a startling sixty years old. Which, as we know, is a number that is decades and decades and decades (and decades) beyond my actual years.
I was so traumatized by this knowledge that I took the novel step of immediately picking a Wii trainer:
and then actually working out, banking a blistering fifteen wii minutes of work-out time toward my ambitious goal: not being a sixty-year-old anymore. Until I actually am one, anyway, which I don't know if I mentioned? Is DECADES away.
Other than all this trauma, my weekend has been lovely. I made chicken enchiladas on whim from a recipe I ran across in the July Real Simple. They turned out wonderfully (Arty) even if I do say so myself.
Of course, there has been shopping. But absolutely necessary shopping. My recently begun love affair with loose tea made it critical for me to buy the cutest teapot ever at TJ Maxx:
A girl just can't go on boiling her tea water in a sauce pan, for heaven's sake. And along with being cute, this one whistles and everything! Which makes me incredibly happy every time it happens.