Oh how I wish I was the type to fall in love with working out. I do it, but I do not love it. I never regret it though – and generally regret not. Funny how easily I forget that part.
I went to a step class tonight with one of the Eyeopener’s Live Right Now workout groups. It was on the other end of the city, and didn’t start until 7:30. I SO BADLY didn’t want to go. I was tired and headachey. My eyeball hurt. I procrastinated until the minute I should have been walking out the door, then couldn’t find my shoes. (They were buried under a pile of reusable grocery bags.) I grabbed my wallet, trying to pretend that it didn’t occur to me that I’d be alone and Peter’s Drive-In is on the way home. I went. I did it. I kept up. Did I feel great afterwards? Only from stopping all that stepping. Am I glad I went? Hell yeah. I didn’t get a hot fudge sundae with whipped cream hold the cherry at the drive thru on the way home. Triumph.
I haven’t been making dinner lately. We were away for a big chunk of last week, on the Rocky Mountaineer from Calgary to Vancouver (I do have more to tell!), then in Banff for the Rocky Mountain Food & Wine Festival. Then dinner club Sunday night, and Sue arrived first thing Monday morning for an intensive two days of editing the first round draft of Spilling the Beans (yes, that’s the official title now), which is slated to be released this fall.
Monday night we went for pizza (I had been on traffic duty on the Homestretch right up until 6), Tuesday night we celebrated with a bottle of Italian bubbly (a brand new one called Secco), tossed some veggies on the grill, cooked leftover chickpeas (from a soaking experiment) in a skillet with garlic, cook a couple eggs in the garlicky oil, and opened a black peppercorn Gouda from Sylvan Star.
Tonight we wound up going for pizza again (a different occasion), and I stuck to one and a half thin-crusted slices and some marinated bean salad. As I saw on twitter about ten minutes ago, Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass, it’s about learning to dance in the rain. Which can be applied to so much, don’t you think? Or loosely be translated to: Life isn’t about giving up pizza, it’s about learning how to enjoy less of it, with a side of beans. Or some such. And remembering that I really do like beans, especially when I have an appetite. The bean salad we ordered was similar to the one I grew up with – sweet and tangy – we generally add celery seed, fresh green and yellow beans, chopped red peppers and purple onion. A marinated bean salad is a good thing to keep in the fridge for lunches or snacks, and a great thing to bring to a party when you want to contribute something delicious and colourful that won’t wilt or go soggy and actually improves as it sits in the fridge.
It might be a good thing to bring to a potluck, too. How does Saturday, May 28 sound? I’d love it to coincide with the apple tree blooming pink in my back yard, which lasts about a week per year.