She'll Be Jiggling Down The Mountain

Simpsons fans out there--you must remember the episode where Homer got a physical exam and the doctor did a fat-content test without the use of a pincher gadget (those are so scary--they remind me of Saturdays long ago when my dad would chase me and my sisters around the house with live lobsters right before they were to be sacrificed in boiling water). Instead of being pinched by the fat-o-meter, Homer simply striped to his underwear and the doctor poked his belly and started a stop-watch. The amount of time it took for his blubber to stop jiggling was the obesity indicator. After about a minute, his fat was still dancing and he exclaimed, "Wooo Hooo, look at er' go!" I admire Homer for embracing his fat and obsession with food--it creates many wonderful moments that help the rest of us, in the real world, laugh about all our struggles with weight.

So how did this obscure Simpsons clip suddenly pop into my head? For several days I have been quite literally, jiggling down the mountain. Please see entry "Spank You Very Much" to understand the status of my skin, yeeesh. I have tired a little of the same old pavement during my daily exercise, so I have traversed the mountain trial that I talked about in the previous entry. The exercise is very intensive--I huff and puff and sweat like a piggy in a house made of sticks. Add a stroller on top, and I am barley holding on. But thank goodness for the high-end stroller with shocks (and bike-shop tire tube upgrade, ehem, ehem), it glides easily over the rocks and debris along the trail.

When in nature I begin to sympathize with mountain people--you know the ones who say, "Forget You!" to society and live like wild animals off of the land. When I'm walking the trail, part of me wants to forget about all the junk and dirty dishes in my house and eat wild berries for the rest of my life. But then, I don't think I could ever bring myself to weave a blanket out of my over-grown armpit hair, so eventually I make it back to my home and the comforts of modern living--but I understand the temptation. Anyway, for those of you who want a true jiggle-test here it is: find a nice, steep, gravel trail, and RUN down. All off my capable muscles are busy keeping me upright and what is hanging is left to gravity, scary.

My knee is doing quite well. I am up to .5 miles of running three times per week. The other days include speed-walking and combo-weights (workout for arms and legs at the same time, I HATE it, but very effective). The trail-blazing has added new dimension to the usual speed-walking, so I think I'll keep it up. Check out my weight stats. I'm working hard. And just for your entertainment, I thought I'd draw a picture of what I would look like as a Mountain Woman.  I'd be quite thin, but that doesn't make up for all the other stuff I'd have to go through.