random thoughts – Day 1,280 – (Monday) – firsts and nots

The rain is back. Ugh. It was a delightful break with sunshine and warmth on Sunday, and now we’re back to wet weather. Luckily, after work, it was just a light rain as I headed to the gym where it was dry inside. Tonight’s equipment of choice was the treadmill, which was located under the heavy duty, industrial ceiling fan. I was freezing and glad to have worn long sleeves and a hood.

The treadmill was a delight. Unlike the recumbent bikes, the treadmill controls worked, including the heart rate reader. And man, that ceiling fan worked.

Treadmill done!

The weekend aches and pains in the lower leg were on a break and it was terrific. In 35 minutes on the hills program, the alleged equivalent of 1.83 miles was achieved. I pretended I was walking a runway for part if it, doing the one foot directly in front of the other 90s model walk and wondering how on earth they did it in high heels. I amuse myself with crazy stuff like that all the time. The fantasy walk was followed by 10 minutes in the massage chair, still my favorite feature at the gym. 

The flirtation with the treadmill provided a good idea of how long it might take to walk to the office, which is actually a flat route so might be a bit quicker. 

Will I ever walk to work? Well, it’s been seven years in the house, and it hasn’t happened yet, so history indicates that it’s probably not very likely. But the successful flirtation with the treadmill in a controlled climate condition was promising.

Fresh floor,
Sept 2016.

Fun fact – On September 18, 2016, Moose, Winston, and I finally spent the night at The BungaLowell. The several weeks since the closing had been consumed with ripping up wall to wall carpeting that covered the first floor (including the kitchen), then laying down plywood throughout the dining room, living room, and kitchen and rolling on three coats of polyurethane. I have some great friends who helped with all of this. 

When the floors were done, dried, and covered in cardboard, it was finally time to unpack the moving POD and move the furniture inside, which included my friends sawing the box spring in half to get it up the narrow, steep, low clearance, 1930 staircase and then splinting it back together in the bedroom. That was fun.  

The weirdest (most remarkable?) thing about the first night in The BungaLowell is that I don’t remember a thing about it. This means either I have a crappy memory (sometimes true) or it was a blissfully uneventful night, free of major stress, ghosts, hauntings, and emergencies. The only reason it is even on my radar now is the Facebook memories feature.

Besides not once walking to work in the past seven years, there are a few other things that haven’t been done at/from the house. Like setting up the alleged “guest room” which is still a storage room stuffed with supplies for stained glass, jewelry, and photography, plus shelves and storage tubs crammed with framed photos and completed tie-dyed clothing and jewelry items. It’s kind of depressing, so mostly I don’t even look in there.

Then there is the futon bought from Habitat for Humanity ReStore that was supposed to graduate from the living room to the second floor “guest room/office” as seating and bedding. Some day. Baby steps, right?