Remember back in August when I joined Cur.ves? Yeah, well I've actually still been going! I even went when I was in the US over Christmas. Those ladies were a hoot! Cur.ves in the US is a lot different from Cur.ves in Ireland. Namely, the median age of the members. Just to give you an idea, I happened to be there on 7 December, the 70th anniversary of the bombing of Pearl Harbor. The conversation du jour was 'Where were you when Pearl Harbor was bombed?' I just kept my head down and kept at it. No need to point out that my parents weren't even born yet! Regardless, I had a lot of respect for these women; getting out, moving, and keeping fit and active. I had a chat with the owner of that branch one day and we talked a bit about the differences between the two countries. The main thing is there are loads of women-only gyms in the US (one was right around the corner from this Cur.ves) and in Ireland, Cur.ves is the only option so you get a larger variety of women. However, I will say I've never seen anyone in there older than maybe 60, but that could just be my branch.
While I can see the benefits of this type of workout and I know it works for people, it just doesn't work for me. I actually highly recommend it to women who need to get moving and don't know where to start, and women who don't like regular gyms and the type of workouts they offer. I'm not one of those women, so I would get bored easily and the workout just isn't aerobic enough for me. Not to mention, my favorite person who worked there has left to open her own branch, and the manager of this particular branch and I well, we're not each other's favorite person. Wes would ask me why I didn't just quit, but I figured it was better than doing nothing. I started to do some running, so I thought going to Cur.ves would give me the resistance training I need. Fine.
Like I said earlier this week, I haven't exercised in about a month. I went in today and the manager was there, checking her Facebook or texting (even though there were people working out)*. She seemed surprised to see me, didn't ask why it had been so long since I had been in, and I made the split decision right then to put in my notice to quit. Since we're moving in June I thought I'd way until May, but you know, I just threw it out there. Someone had told me previously that I shouldn't full on quit and just transfer my membership to the US. I had already worked out in my head what to say when she suggested this to me, politely declining and letting her know I plan on joining a regular gym when I'm in the US. Nope. Didn't go that way. This is how it went down:
Me: We're going to be moving, so I'm going to need to give my notice to quit. How much time do I need to give?
Her: Oh, okay. It's 30 days, so you better do it today. Yeah, today.
Me: Umm...alright (thinking in my head that I actually don't need to do this until May).
Her: Right, could you just write it down on this piece of paper?
Me: Um...sure, okay. I should make it effective today?
Her: Yep! Today!
Didn't even ask me when I was going (she could have gotten another month of fees from me). No mention of trying to keep me as a Cur.ves customer in the US. In fact, she seemed downright giddy that I was going to be leaving! Pretty good business practice!Yes, I could have offered up the information on when I'm leaving, but I try to avoid having long conversations with her. I could have told her I'd stay until the end of May, but really? Who am I kidding? Neither of us want me to be there! Ha!
Joining a gym in the US is one of the things I'm MOST looking forward to when we move!
*I should point out that this seems to be unique to this person. There are other employees at this branch and they're actually quite helpful. My friend goes to a different branch here in Dublin and the employees are involved in their member's workouts.
Back in the saddle! After being in England for 10 days, then sick for two weeks, today was the first day I've exercised since March 4th. YIKES! I walked almost 4 miles and I felt great! (I even got some mud on my leg!)
I am the most impatient person ever, so it should come as no surprise that I hate waiting. On the flip side I LURVE planning! This year has been a whole lot of waiting and not a lot of planning. This is not my idea of a good time. We're moving to the US in two months and I'm fairly certain this will be the longest two months of my life. We're waiting for jobs to pop up so we can apply for them, waiting to hear about jobs we've applied for, waiting to start packing, there's the two week waits that come with trying to get pregnant, and waiting for this sore throat to totally go away. With all this waiting there is a bit of planning that I'm able to do: plan for the cat's move, contact the shipping company, talk to the doctor about all these two week waits and the super sore throat, start to get rid of some of the crap we're not taking, and of course applying for those jobs that do pop up.
I finally got to tell our landlord that we're moving out and he was a total buzzkill. All he said was, 'I'm sure this is good for you.' As in, 'You must be happily dragging your husband across the Atlantic.' I said, ' Uh, actually it's a good time to go since his contract is ending and we have no other options at this point.' I don't know why his response bothered me so much, but I'm sure it had to do with the fact that I've been waiting for MONTHS to tell him. Waiting makes you bitter and paranoid when the outcome doesn't go as you expected.
Of course in a month and a half I'll be running around like a crazy person trying to get all the last minute details sorted. That's okay, I'll be blissfully happy doing it!
My friend and her 3 year old daughter gave up chocolate for Lent. It was definitely a struggle for both of them and by day 3 the 3 year old was asking if it had be 40 days yet. There was a little calendar on their fridge giving little tips and verses to get them through Lent. On one particular day it asked how many times Satan tempted Jesus in the desert. We read the little story in the bible and talked about Jesus refusing to get caught up in the evil.
Then it happened.
The Devil arrived on their front doorstep, presenting himself (is Satan a guy?) as some delicious home made chocolate chip cookies, straight from America.
I watched the two of them dance around trying to decide what to do with these cookies, while the Devil just sat there, tempting them, decorated with green sprinkles. That Catholic guilt had a pretty strong hold! Should they save them until Sunday (this was Monday) when the priest said they could have a treat? Would they go stale by then? WWJD? Jesus might be sad. Jesus died on the cross for us, we should not eat chocolate.
In the end, it was a draw. The devil was able to tempt the 3 year old, but my friend would not fall. I reassured her that the cookies could go in the freezer and they could just pull them out individually on Sundays.
Don't blame me if I have to eat some chocolate. The Devil made me do it.
If you can speak more than one language fluently, then color me impressed. If you can learn to speak Irish then you're a genius. To say the language is impenetrable is an understatement. Children here are required to study Irish all through school starting in junior infants (which is like Kindergarten/first grade/reception(UK)) and take an exam when they're 16 (unless they're a native speaker). Even with all that schooling, I think I may speak more Irish than my husband. I'd like to thank my main educator: the Irish public transportation system.
In my previous post I mentioned that I met my friend's little boy, Naiose. She is a native Irish speaker and wants her son to be as well. Her partner does not speak Irish fluently, but he's not too bad. I wondered how this would work and she said that she speaks Irish to him exclusively and he'll learn English from everyone else. Her sister has done this with her niece and it works perfectly.
Of course I spoke to him in English by occasionally, well, let's just say I wowed her with my knowledge of the Irish language. I would say something along the lines of:
'Ahhh Naiose...sneaicbheár?' Translated this means 'Ahhh Naiose....snack bar?
Or I would just throw place names at him in my best goo goo gaa gaa baby voice:
'Sraid na Mainistrach!' (Abbey Street!) 'Duga Sheoirse!' (George's Dock!) and of course my all time favorite: 'Na Ceithre Cúirteanna!' (The Four Courts!).
Riding the Luas (which, by the way is Irish for 'speed') can really educate a gal.
Sorry for the silence, but I was in England for 10 days. Wes and I had a long weekend in London where we did some sightseeing. Wes had only ever been there for work, so I thought it would be nice for him to visit before we moved to the States. My cousin also happened to be in town for her son's school trip, so we had dinner with them one night. We had gorgeous weather, but it was pretty cold. Don't be deceived by the sunshine! Unfortunately, my camera is on the fritz, so I didn't take too many pictures.Not to mention, we also went to a lot of places that don't allow pictures inside (St Paul's, Westminster Abbey). They were gorgeous, but I guess you're going to have to see for yourself!
Me: 'Look Wes, Big Ben...Parliament! Hahahahahahaha!!!!!!'
Me: Trying to explain Chevy Chase in European Vacation. I think we're going to have to rent it!
One of King Henry VIII's suits of armour on display at the Tower of London. I think he was an exaggerator.
This cheeky raven kept attacking the lady in the green jacket as she had some food. I guess that huge heart he ate earlier didn't satisfy him.
This is the view from our hotel in Earl's Court. It was nice enough, but Wes wasn't too happy about that stuff up on the left hand side. That's Chelsea's football grounds. We had to keep the curtains closed for most of the time.
After Wes left I travelled to visit some friends who have had babies since the last time I saw them. Thankfully we walked tons in London because when you visit people with new babies you sit around a lot bouncing babies on your knee. Or you go to the coffee shop and eat lots of cake. This is okay if you're nursing a child, but I had no excuses. My new friends are very cute and I'm so glad I had the chance to meet them!
My friend Emma's little boy, Naiose. I'll spare you the shot I got of him puking just before this.
Leah, the lovely lady, spent DAYS smiling at me then when I went to take her pictures, this is all she'd give me! Hrmph! I promise you that she loved her some Kim!
It was a great trip and I was able to meet up with some other friends as well. It was pretty bitter sweet leaving Bristol airport and not knowing when I'll ever get to England again. I promised that we'd get a web cam to keep in touch!
We got this bit of technology at my wedding shower. I've never used it (I just trim off the dried bit at the end) and to be honest, I totally forgot we had it. But last night when Wes saw the half banana sitting there the light bulb went off in his head! And I immediately yell out, 'Technology!' Maybe we used it too late, but it totally didn't work and now I have one more thing to wash.
Hi, my name is Kim and I'm addicted to my heart rate monitor.
There is something about actually seeing how many calories I'm burning while I'm working out that gets me jazzed. Tracking my heart rate and calories makes me go faster (which I promise is not very fast) and longer than I would go without it. The weather has been gorgeous here (I'm a fair weather runner), so it hasn't been too hard to get motivated to go out.
Each time I go out is an adventure. One day I saved a cat's life. I'm not sure if it wanted to be saved, but too bad. Another day I was stopped by a little old lady crossing the street, asking me to tell the bus driver up ahead not to leave without her. Done. I watched a swan running across the pond in Phoenix Park, and of course the crocuses are starting to bloom everywhere. It's something new each time and I get excited about what might happen while I'm out!