Note to self: when looking something up in the Google search box, open a new tab instead of just hitting enter, and loosing the first half of your blog entry...

Okie Dokie... lets try this again:

Two weekends ago I went with my parents to visit my Grandmother. If you've talked to me at all about my family, you know that I'm not a big fan of this woman, I'm not going to get into the whole thing in this entry. She's crazy, like Roseanne's mom on Roseanne crazy, but less funny. Anyway, she lives in Venice, which is like three and a half hours north of me on the west (Floridian) coast. The drive up is always nice, it's a straight shot up Alligator Alley, which is the highway stretch that cuts right through the Everglades. It's aptly named, there are alligators in the canals right next to the road. It's neat to see them, but be protected by your car and the fencing between the road and the water. We stopped at this place called Corkscrew Swamp Sanctuary which is a two and a half mile boardwalk through, well, a swamp. I had my new camera with me, and I got some really great shots. We're coming to the end of the dry season right now, so it was less of a swamp, and more of a grassland/forest but it was absolutely beautiful. I'll post pictures after I edit them a bit.

About half way through the walk something occurred to me: I was not at all out of breath. This may not seem like a big deal, but when I think about how I was a year ago, or earlier than that, it's positively amazing... I used to go for walks once in a blue moon when I still lived in Massachusetts, and inevitably, ten minutes or so into the walk, I would find myself out of breath. I wasn't like doubled-over-gasping-for-air or anything, it was always more of a I'm-so-out-of-shape-I-can't-believe-I'm-already-out-of-breath-maybe-
if-I-stop-talking-and-really-concentrate-I'll-be-able-to-catch-my-breath-
nope-well-maybe-if-I-yawn-a-lot-I'll-get-enough-air-to-feel-better-shit-
I'm-such-a-fat-fuck-why-am-I-such-a-fat-ass-I-suck-I-suck-I-suck king of feeling. I hated it.
I'll always remember the time a few years ago when we were at Joyia's birthday. We were tromping around the woods, and We started walking up this hill. I couldn't make it to the top, I had to stop and stay behind. I was so embarrassed by that. I mean it was a New Hampshire hill, and Hills in New Hampshire eat the hills you're thinking of right now as a light snack before breakfast, but still, it was just a hill. It wasn't like we were climbing a mountain. I should have been able to walk with everyone else...

I managed to walk the entire 2 1/2 miles without any trouble, and I felt like I could have gone again. I wasn't the least bit winded. I was sweaty as all hell, but it was 93 degrees out, and I'm thinking it was more the temperature than any kind of exhaustion. Being able to do that meant a lot to me. It's the first tangible proof I have that riding the bike to work has changed me for the better. People have been saying that I look like I'm loosing weight, but I don't really see it, and my clothes all fit me the same. Being more in shape, and able to do things that I couldn't before is more important to me than loosing weight anyway. This realization actually makes me want to start doing more things to get into better shape. I've been meaning to get up a little earlier and do half an hour of yoga before I go to work, but for some reason, the snooze button seams to be my main priority at 4am...

Yeah, there's more that I had written, but it's now almost 2 am, and I need sleep. I'll write about the rest later.