One Small Step For A Diana

I had this carefully crafted blog intro I wrote out at work today, all about this song I remembered from Junior High choir called “Little By Little,” and how the lyrics apply to my life.

Instead of using said intro, I’m just going to tell you that I started my running program this evening, after much hemming and hawing and giving up before I started and getting reinvigorated by things I read online.

Tonight, I spent 20 minutes alternating a one-minute run with a three-minute walk. I just went around the one-mile block that I generally walk if I want a pleasant but not too lengthy walk. It was just about dusk, which made me a little more comfortable about running in the potential presence of other people (since, even if someone were outside at dusk, they wouldn’t see me very well, anyway).

The first running minute was a piece of cake. I could have kept going, no problem, but I knew better. The second stint of running was a little more challenging, but not bad. Actually, none of them were “bad” at all. They were all short enough that I didn’t feel like I was going to die at the end, like I usually do with running (because I push myself too hard right off the bat). The only stretch of running that felt long was the last one, and that was partially because it WAS long — I was almost home, and there was someone outside in his driveway; so instead of stopping right in front of him, I ran past and crossed the street toward my house and tacked on another 20 seconds to my running time.

Tomorrow is Aikido, for the first time in over a month (the longest break I think I’ve taken from Aikido since I started nearly one year ago). I’m going to ease myself back into Aikido, going every Wednesday for a while, then easing back into a Wednesday / Saturday routine, and maybe eventually going to Mon / Wed / Sat. For now, though, I’m planning to do an evening walk/jog on Tuesdays and Thursdays, try to do one on Sunday mornings (can I make myself get up?), and do Aikido on Wednesdays. After I’m sure I’m acclimated to that, then I’ll start filling in Aikido and maybe some strength training in the remaining days (or in addition to my run?).

Man, that felt good. I always forget how good exercise feels!

Beyond the jump: unfair comparisons, and current weights & measures.
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links for 2008-06-06

Crisis Averted

I bought some No-Pudge Fudge Brownies at Claudia’s a couple weeks ago, and decided to make them for our trip to Canada this weekend. All they needed was a container of vanilla yogurt, mix ’em up, and throw ’em in the oven for a half hour. That I can do, no problem. Preheated the oven, stirred the powdered mix together with 6 ounces of vanilla yogurt, put it into a lubed-up pan, and opened the oven—

Why is only one little bit of the heating element glowing red? How odd.

I turned the oven off — I’m kind of skitchy with appliances that don’t do exactly what’s expected of them, especially when it involves electricity and lots of heat — and waited for the oven to cool again. I figured that maybe something funky had been spilled onto the heating element, and I could just clean it off and be on my brownie way.

So, once the oven was cool enough, I got a sponge (for lack of anything more abrasive) and got to work on cleaning the heating element. Carefully.

But apparently not carefully enough. Where the element looked like something had spilled on it and simply needed cleaned off, the element easily snapped in two like chalk.

Um… I think I broke it? Maybe it was already almost broken. At any rate, now we need a $35 – $40 part for our oven before I can a.) make brownies, which are now sitting raw in the refrigerator; or b.) test out any luau recipes. Oh, or c.) make any more tropical-scented candles.

So, why do I say “crisis averted,” when my oven doesn’t work now? If I hadn’t noticed the weirdness with the heating element, I could have set the oven on fire with my brownie-baking. As it is, we’ll just have to buy a part and either try installing it ourselves or pay someone to do it for us. We won’t have to buy a whole new oven, or a whole new kitchen.

Crisis averted.