First real beach day. I mean, we go the beach all the time, but today was the first day we packed a cooler, and wore our bathing suits, and made sure we had the umbrella and the sunscreen. We found a good spot to plop ourselves and settled in. Except we had plopped ourselves with a direct sight line to the showers, so I lay on my tummy, ostensibly to read my book, and watched surfer after surfer strip out of their wetsuits and rinse off. A most pleasant way to while away the hours. Most pleasant. So glad I got those new sunglasses.
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You can't just fry in the sun all day long though and I have no intention of becoming one of those leathery old fossils hanging around here, so we dropped the dog at home and had a snack before heading to the Y. Mr. and Mini swim while I work out. Working out is a new thing. A few weeks ago I signed up for this fitness program, got myself a very enthusiastic trainer and now I know what to do with all those wierd machines. Or at least I think I do. At any rate, I dutifully head to the fitness center at least three times a week to torture my abdomen and run on the treadmill. I know, I move to vacation-land where it is jogging outside weather all the time, and I end up jogging indoors. Unexpectedly, I found that I really like running on a treadmill. Go on, silent readers, make a hamster joke in comments. I dare you. I know how fast I'm going, I know exactly how long I've been jogging, I can control the rise of hills! *surge of power* Besides, I'm not going to get skin cancer inside the YMCA and since moving to Southern California, I occasionally wake up in the middle of the night and fret about childhood sunburns and moles and fair skin and skin cancer.
So after using all the wierd machines (hello, abdomen. why are you so tender?) I line up some Peaches on my iPod and get on the treadmill. I do some brisk walking to warm up and then I start jogging. I'm feeling good and Peaches is excellent jogging music and I start thinking maybe I should increase my time on the treadmill this afternoon and then I start watching the stupid televisions in the corner. I can't help it, they're just there! I'm alternating between "This Old House" and some eternal rotation of crap on Fox news. Next thing I know, my iPod goes flying and I'm doing some very fast, very odd, very almost falling over dance backwards. All of a sudden, the base of the treadmill is rushing towards me and I am so determined not to land on it and suffer the consequences that, quite magically...I don't. Instead, I sort of hop and half turn and over rotate and smash my ankles and land...on my feet.
It wasn't a huge deal. An adrenaline rush and much embarrassment. My aid was rushed to immediately and many jokes were made and now I can say that my worst fear about the stupid treadmill came true, but I didn't bash my head against the eliptical trainer and require multiple stitches. Keep on truckin'.
Writing practice, with a little love and compassion thrown in. On her own schedule, of course. I'd previously been informed that cuddles were not available. (Name blurred by yours truly. A little educated paranoia about the interwebs.)
They call it Language Arts or Reading Appreciation. As you can see, we have a very strict dress code;) 
