So, last night I decided to give up on the whining challenge - no whining for 21 days is completely overrated.
It was FitCamp that got me. Within a few minutes of being in there, and having Rick tell us that we'd be working on abs for 60 minutes, I decided that whining about each and every exercise we did makes the time go by faster. So, whining is back in. I'm going to call it the "new complaining" sortof like "50 is the new 40" or "32 is the new 22". Maybe I'll be selective on what I whine about, or maybe I won't. Oh, I also got tired of hearing Steve classify every topic I brought up on our 4 mile run, as "whining." That sortof sent me over my no-whining threshold as well (even if he did only say it once).
On to other topics, like running. I've successfully run 9 miles this week that were virtually pain-free (isn't every thing on the internet virtually pain free??). At any rate, it was a nice, slow week of running and I was really glad to be minimally pain free. Hopefully my orthotics will come in during my lifetime and make everything really all better.
I had another visit with the plastic surgeon today. While I'd like to go on and on about what new procedure I had this time, it would be a total lie, and well, it's too close to Christmas to be telling lies like that. Instead, I'll tell you the truth: I'm having that pesky scar on my left arm revised...again. I'd just live with it. And the jokes that everyone makes that it looks like a cigarette was put out on my arm. But Dr. 90210 has other plans. Every time I see him at the bank, or the grocery store, or a party (yes that part is true), he shakes his head and tells me to make an appointment pronto. So, I finally listened (because I assume he will be doing it for free) and showed up for my appointment. He spent about 10 seconds shaking his head like he didn't know what went wrong the last time and then proceeded to schedule the revision appointment. We scheduled it for a week from Monday at 2:45ish (his words, not mine). I really like Dr. 90210. Partly because he met me and my mom at his office well after hours to stitch up my face when I had that running mishap in April, but mostly because he's way more of a perfectionist than I am. His words as I was leaving: "everyone knows I did that (referencing the scar on my arm). That is completely unacceptable."
I hired yet another cleaning lady. I really really really really like this one. She sortof reminds me of me which totally makes me think that she's going to do a freakin fantabulous job. Her first day is next Tuesday and I can't freakin wait.
On to the weekend. Party likes it's 1999. Or 2008. Whichever you prefer.