This monster was delivered yesterday.
The annual fall wood pile. Cameron stacks it by himself every year. After all, wood is a man’s job generally, right? 😉 So today I thought I’d surprise him by stacking it all for him while he was at work. It turned into more of a battle than I expected and there was definitely a winner and a loser.
I took the dogs for a walk at 11:30 and when I returned I put on my hiking boots and some work gloves and got in there. I crawled around the side to get into the shelter and started stacking. After about half an hour as the pile receded from the entrance I realized that a wheelbarrow would be beneficial. The problem was I couldn’t get it around the pile. I thought about trying to get it over the top but I have occasionally been called clumsy and if it can be broken, spilled, tripped over or fallen off of then I’m your huckleberry. So over the top was out. I kept stacking and made myself a nice wheelbarrow lane way. Score one for Kirstin! Suck it wood pile.
With the wheelbarrow in play I was motoring, but to get from picture 1 to picture 2 took about 90 minutes. See that piece of wood standing up in the middle of the shelter? I stuck it there as a seat while I took 5 right before taking this picture. After taking it I got right back to work filling up the wheelbarrow. Then I backed it into the shelter forgetting about my seat. I backed directly into it, tripped, fell backwards ass over tea kettle and narrowly missed the wheelbarrow landing on me. Honestly.
My middle name is Lee. My father is wont to call me Kirstin Graceful-Lee. It’s really that bad.
Score one for the wood pile!
With the contenders being tied one a piece, our story continues…
The offending seat was kicked, sworn at vigorously and thrown out of the way. I rallied and carried on. Shortly after I must have found the keystone. I pulled a piece of wood out which caused about fifteen other pieces to cascade directly on to my shin. More swearing, some Peter Griffin injury breathing through clenched teeth and possibly a single tear. Two for the wood pile.
Nothing else hilarious happened but the fall and the shin injury caught up to me after a while and I was cold, and sore, and grumpy. After three and a half hours of work I conceded defeat at 4:00 pm. There was no way I was getting it all done before Cameron came home. It was going to be such a great surprise too!
Three points and victory to the wood pile!
I did make a pretty big dent in it though. I also burned 1400 calories and walked 6 km back and forth ten steps at a time apparently. And even though I didn’t finish it Cameron was still very surprised and impressed. So all was not lost. And look at those pretty stacks.
Thus ends our tale of Kirstin vs. the Wood Pile.
Earlier this week I had two very different workouts. The first one was a run on the millennium trail with James. We ran and chatted about my food and goals and such. There was no plan, just run as much as possible and walk for a little bit when needed. I ended up with a personal best pace, again! 9’01” per km over a 5 km distance. I felt great! Strong and fast.
The next day was the stairs. I was grumpy. I don’t know why, I just woke up that way. I didn’t sleep well which didn’t help. I didn’t want to do the stairs but I also didn’t want to waste my time going there and not working hard or waste James’ time coming there to help me. I couldn’t shake my bad attitude and grumps. I felt slow and weak especially compared to the run the day before when I felt so great. And it pissed me off that I couldn’t shake those feelings. So I felt angry at myself, and grumpy, and sweaty, and tired, and slow, and weak.
I was disappointed in myself, and I so hate to be disappointed. Whether it be in myself or something/someone else it’s one of my most hated feelings. It almost always brings tears, and it did yesterday too. James could tell something was bugging me and asked me what was up. I told him I felt weak and slow and it was so different from how great yesterday was. Then I tried to cry on the inside like a winner, but failed. He said there’d be days like this. He said I was there instead of on the couch even when I was grumpy. He said days like this are why people quit. He said a bunch of stuff that I obviously needed to hear because I kept going. I was angry, disappointed, sweaty, tired, and crying. But I was still running those fricking stairs. Luckily I was super sweaty so the tears just mixed right in…. unless you looked at my eyes, then it was pretty obvious. I said to myself that as long as I could still see I’d keep going no matter what bullshit was coming out of my eyes, and I did. I did stairs for a good 20 minutes in sob land.
Today I feel much better, aside from the Attack of the Wood Pile injuries. But my spirit is recovered and I’m excited to keep going once again. Those days before were quit days in my past. But I’m not that girl anymore. I can’t be. I’m so fucking sick of being a quitter and I won’t do it anymore.
I’m starting to believe that I’m really going to do it this time. Every other time I’ve tried to lose weight I’ve done it quietly, mostly by myself and without telling many people. It’s safe that way you see? You can fail quietly too. Nobody knows. This time I’m doing it loud, out here for the world to see. If I fail, I will fail loud too. That’s scary. But doing it loud has another unanticipated advantage which is better. The support I’ve gotten from old friends, new friends, acquaintances, people reading this around the world, and my family has been amazing. I didn’t realize how much that would mean and how motivating it would be. Thank you all.
Here’s a funny picture of Switch and Chinook… just ’cause it’s cute.