Ridin' Big Scheldon... Again!

Jeez, that title sounds dirty.  But whatever...

I will admit that I had a tough day today and was more than a little cranky.  There's a small possibility I might have used some really bad words at several times today.

Here's the scoop.  I only have one more day to work with my fabulous new boss -- whom I adore and have only worked with for seven weeks -- and then he's leaving the company.  Well, he's in the office all next week, but I will be in Dallas on business the whole week and won't see him again after tomorrow.  It sucks with a capital UCKS, to be honest.

Smoked chicken on a wheat round
with organic spinach and dijon.
Fabulous!

The good news:  I didn't *eat* those feelings.  I stayed on plan today, enjoying a beautiful smoked chicken sandwich with fresh organic spinach and dijon mustard on a 100-calorie wheat sandwich round with carrot chips and a delicious Yoplait Delight chocolate eclair yogurt for dessert.  (I'm not really a yogurt fan, but those are delicious.)

By the time I got home tonight, I had eaten well, and I'd had three (count them, three) liters of water today, which were all reasons to feel good.  Emotionally, though, I just wanted to lie down in the floor and bawl.  I had a light dinner on the couch and watched a DVR'd copy of "Modern Family" from last night and could have cheerfully gone to bed for a good cry.  The good news:  I didn't do that.  Instead, I changed into my new workout capris and tank that I bought for myself as a reward for doubling my weight loss goal last week (Yay!!!!), threw on my bike helmet, and I took big Scheldon (my bike) for another ride.

Big Scheldon

Tonight, we hit two different trails in Fayetteville, and I was familiar with neither.  I rode down to the bottom of the giant hill where I live, made a left turn onto the Hoosiwhatsit trail (the name of which I can't remember now), and it meandered through all kinds of beautiful natural scenes that one doesn't even know are there when one drives a car all the time.  I wound up across the highway off Joyce Blvd (apologies to those who don't know Northwest Arkansas), then rode back here, hit another trail, which meandered through even more beautiful, secluded natural scenes.  I wound up going through a long tunnel that took me under the interstate and came out by Washington Regional Hospital, where I turned around and headed home.

The big hill on which I live poses a challenge coming home.  It's at the end of my ride, and it's, quite frankly, murderous.  I keep thinking I'll eventually ride the whole thing, so each day's goal is just to get a little further than last time.  I went about 30 feet past where I did the other day, so I'm calling it a win.

When I got home, I wasn't ready to quit and the sun was still up, so I rode around my neighborhood a little just for some extra time on Scheldon.  Now, I'm typing this as breakneck speed so I can hit the shower and jump into my jammies.

It's funny how I always forget what exercise does for my emotional state.  It's amazing to me to think of the things that I used to do to try to "medicate" myself when I was sad.  And that list of "medications" included everything from cigarettes to chocolate to things I won't even mention here.  What's miraculous -- nothing works like exercise.  It's a high.  A legal one.  And I'm diggin' it.

Shower time!  Love!