Once again, I did not get up early enough to exercise. I suck. I am back to exerting no self-discipline. I genuinely don't know what my problem is. Ah well.
I was at a running store today over lunch with a co-worker who is training for a marathon in January; she needed to buy new running shoes, and I wanted to look around. The clerk assisting us asked if I run, too; my co-worker said that I had recently started running again. (Yeah, she doesn't know that I haven't even been on the treadmill in over a week. . . anyway.) The clerk, who has been distance running for almost 30 years, said "the key is consistency. Run at least 3-4 times every week."
Yeah. . . . he's probably right. And if he is, it seems that I will never run even a half-marathon, because I don't seem capable of being consistent. Aside from eating, sleeping, & basic hygiene, there are very few things I do on any routine schedule. It's sad, really.
My mom is still here, and that's going OK. She & I are getting along pretty well--no arguments, though I have gotten annoyed with her once or twice--and she seems to be enjoying herself. She is actually pretty low-maintenance as parents go.
I *was* able to finally walk Sebastian last night; it rained and cooled things off quite nicely. Today hasn't been too God-awful hot either, so I plan to walk him again as soon as the sun goes down this evening. Walking Sebastian around the neighborhood is great for him, and better for me than sitting on the couch. . . . but not vigorous enough to be a true aerobic workout for me. I should still be hitting the treadmill in the mornings.
Another guy I've been emailing on match has suggested a face-to-face meeting; we'll see if it materializes. He is "M," a probation officer. . . not to be confused with "M" in my blog entry of a couple of weeks ago. (That M sent me two emails after our first & only phone call, and I haven't heard a peep out of him in about 10 days.)
As I'm typing this, I'm realizing that referring to these guys by initials is getting cumbersome and confusing. Maybe I will have to start making up nicknames instead. Otherwise I'll soon be blogging about three different men called "J." So we'll call this latest M "Minneapolis boy" because that's where he's originally from. ("Probation boy" would make him sound like a felon. . . . )
Aside from J, whom I met for drinks last Friday (aka Philosopher guy), there are two other guys from match with whom I am in regular contact besides Minneapolis boy, but I've not yet met either face-to-face. I think I won't bother nicknaming any guy until/unless I set up a face-to-face meeting with him.
My finger is itching but otherwise seems fine. I'm going to get KC to remove my stitches on Wednesday night. I can already tell I'm going to have an ugly scar. Ah well.