This is What Tired Looks Like

You know I love living in the city, but every city mouse needs a break from the hustle and bustle from time to time. Gideon and I try to get out of the D.C. once a month or so. Heading to Lexington or Lovettesville, Virginia for some fresh air and time with family is usually the just the fix we are looking for--close to home, cheap, relaxing, and best of all, space for our boxer Josie to run.
Poor Josie... she is a country dog through-and-through and has not taken to life in the big city. She hates the buses, delivery trucks, and other big noisy things. If she had a tail (not a stub), it would be permanently between her legs here in D.C.
So, our jaunts to the country, though very much appreciated by me and Gideon, are even more welcomed by Josie. I'm telling you, the moment we get in the car and start heading west, she knows and she starts smiling (have you ever seen a boxer smile? Cute!). As soon as we reach our destination, we set our squirming dog loose and off she goes, running tirelessly for hours on end. Her city routine of sleeping on the ottoman for 20 hours a day is put on hold. Honestly, she doesn't stop unless we force her to. It's a sight to behold--Josie running at top speed, tongue flapping in the breeze, eyes full of life and doggy glee.
Well, of course, this energy explosion can only last about the length of a weekend. By Sunday afternoon, she slows down dramatically, usually just in time to get in the car to head back home to the city. And then the recovery begins. For the next two to three days Josie sleeps hard. I have to force her out the door to take care of business. If you ever wondered what tired really looks like, here it is.

Here's to living it up in the city and letting loose in the country!

This Is How It All Begins...

Gideon has been into road biking for years. And when I say "into road biking", I mean willing to drop hundreds of dollars on bike equipment; riding sometimes over 100 miles in a single day; getting half of his skin scraped off in crashes; racing what seemed like every weekend for years; riding through D.C. traffic to work each day. You get the idea.
This commitment to a sport has always boggled my mind. Who does this? (Not me!) How does it happen? What can be done about it? But now I'm starting to see how this all starts.
You see, I am now a road biker--a novice, at best, but a road biker. It's official. Gideon and I went on a 25 mile ride last weekend and a 40 mile ride today. Gideon's comment when we got home today (after our 4 hour ride) was, "Now you know what it really feels like to exercise." I considered taking offense to this, but I realized that he was right (for the most part... there was that one "Boot Camp" class I accidentally took at the gym).
Truly, I feel like I may become one of "them"--one of those people who are really into something sporty. I even dropped $130 last night on some "gear". That is just plain unusual for me! I'm feeding this new habit of mine.
So, here's why I'm excited about biking: it's great exercise--I have new muscles, I swear; I've been conditioning for months in spin class; I can actually do a 40 mile ride (who knew?!?!?); I can see my town (and the world) in a new way from a bike; and, best of all, this is something that Gideon and I can do together for a long, long time. I think that is really important in a marriage.
So, I'll keep you posted on my growing addiction. In the meantime, I'm going to cruise the bike gear websites.

Celebrity Spotting at the Smithsonian

Last Thursday I took a tour of the Air and Space Museum. The place is beyond huge and overwhelms my museum-loving heart. A tour is the only way to get a little something out of a museum visit if you feel that overwhelming feeling.
Anyway, the tour was great and all--my tour guide Bobbe, has been there since before the museum opened 32 years ago. She was fun, fresh and super-knowledgeable. But still--planes don't do much for me, so I was not totally paying attention after the first 20 minutes. Good thing, since it freed me up to do a little people watching. While kind of listening to the story of Charles Lindbergh I noticed some security guards scampering around looking very official. I knew something was up. And sure enough, there was Joan Rivers right there next to me on her own (private) tour with her grand kids (I presume)! Wow, I have never seen that much plastic surgery up close! Amazing! She's just a little thing too. No more than five feet. I stared a bit, but nobody else even noticed... they were all being good tourists, listening intently to Bobbe. Too bad for them! You snooze you lose! Or in this case, you snooze, you get to see Joan Rivers!
Check out Joan's blog and you can read about her D.C. trip! (Scroll down a bit.)
http://www.joanriversblog.com/blog/

By the way, I wasn't totally sure if it actually was Joan until today when my friends at the Natural History Museum confirmed my sighting.

I Love to Ride My Bicycle (I Think)

In the past year I have spent many happy, albeit tiring hours in "spin class". For those not up with the latest gym offerings, spin class consists of 20 or so stationary bicycles set up in a dark room. An instructor blasts a mix of fast-paced, loud music and instructs the riders through a 45 minute fake bike ride up and down hills, along country roads, or through city streets... or whatever terrain you want to imagine. The nice thing is that as an individual rider, you can adjust your resistance and pace to give yourself a challenge based on your own athletic stamina... and you will always keep up with the rest of the pack!
So, spinning has become one of my new favorite things. It is an excellent workout, and I have to admit, I feel like I have the potential to be a great biker, based on my in-class performance. I can really push it up those hills and I can deliver a pretty powerful sprint. And I always leave class nasty-sweaty--an excellent indicator that I busted my butt at the gym.
This weekend, I got to test out my biking prowess on a real bike, on a real road. Gideon tracked down a serious road bike for me to use, and on Sunday afternoon we headed out on a ride.
Now let me back up a bit to explain a little something... Gideon is a REAL biker. He has been riding for years and racing, too. In fact, at one point he was second or third in his race category in the state of Virginia. I clearly remember watching too much Tour De France coverage while on our honeymoon in Italy, if that gives you a better idea of what I'm talking about. Gideon has been wanting me to get on a bike for a long time; I was never interested until I started spinning.
Still, my idea of a bike ride is more along the lines of a cruise through the park, with a bike basket packed with a picnic, and a bell on the handle bars to let folks know I'm coming. Gideon's idea of a bike ride is just a step under the aforementioned Tour De France. Plus, I am a bit afraid of cars on the road, whereas Gideon rides his bike to work every morning through D.C. traffic. Could a husband and wife ride actually work?
Well, after making some adjustments on my borrowed bicycle, Gideon and I hit the road. Fortunately, we live right near Rock Creek Park, a beautiful park that stretches from Northwest D.C. into Maryland. We got to the park with no major issues, besides me losing my brand new water bottle while speeding down a substantial hill. (Gideon went back up the hill to retrieve it for me--bless his heart.)
Once in the park, we started riding north. This is when the trouble started. And when I say trouble, I mean, this is when I started feeling my bike seat in a not-so-pleasant way. And my back started hurting. And my hands started hurting. I toughed it out for 25 or 30 minutes until I had to stop to recover. Gideon was trying to be patient with me, but I could see that his hopes for a serious bike partner were fading quickly. I cried and pouted a bit, because I was hurting, and because I was doubting my own potential to be a real biker and not just a spinner.
Then I got back on the bike and this is when the fun began. In an effort to get home quickly, I started racing Gideon back towards home. We rode like bats out of hell. After letting me think I was really smoking him, he pulled into the front position and let me draft behind him as we sped along the road. We rode like this to the park exit, and I kept up with Gideon. And here was what I realized: the faster you ride, the less you notice the pain! Ahhh! Stop whining and ride! I was having so much fun, I even powered my way up the big hill (where I dropped my water bottle earlier) without stopping.
When we got home, I felt what most real bikers must feel--a feeling that keeps them going back to the road--a feeling of pride, exhaustion, exhilaration, and the satisfaction of a nasty-sweaty workout. And I'll be back out there next weekend.