Tag Archives: Relationships

‘She didn’t call it that, did she?’ …

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One of my favorite people sent a note to the Cowboy shortly after either reading yesterday’s blog or just looking at the title.

And I can just hear her low, rumbling, infectious laugh as she wrote to him, ‘She didn’t call it that, did she?’ in regard to yesterday’s post about the term ‘lasso’.  I am not sure yet if she is appalled.  Or in hysterics over what a greenhorn I apparently still am.

While living in Montana and every year since, I’ve spent (along with our family) as much time as possible at their ranch.  They have taken me in as family.  I couldn’t love them any more.  And they feel like home to me.  God, family, raising cattle, fun, friends and the rodeo have been a part of their lives for generations.  Maybe, but not necessarily in that order.  But most likely.  And having spent as much time with them as I have, one might think, before meeting the Cowboy, I might have been a little better versed in roping.

Regardless, as I was going to talk about something else entirely today (When a child walk in on… will be tomorrow) .. it struck me to write this post.  Both because of the comments exchanged between my dear friend/second mother and the Cowboy ..

And, that I ran across this link.

http://www.golfchannel.com/media/golf-in-america-2011-cow-pasture-open/

Wisdom, when I first met my dear friend and her family, is where they lived.  Where they ranched.  Where the kids went to school.  Where there was a hat shop.  Where around the corner was one of the coolest stores/galleries and a restaurant attached the locals and visitors loved to stop.  (Where I bought the purse so many years ago people keep asking me where I got it.)  And where during the deep snows of winter, it took a snowmobile to make the drive home.  Wisdom is like a little bit of heaven on earth.  Actually, a lot.  A lot of space.  Incredible beauty in ever direction.  And the people there would give anything to help family, friend or a stranger.

While a lot has changed;  there’s been a divorce, a remarriage, the kids have grown and now all have families of their own, the hat shop has moved to a new home and so has my friend .. snowmobiles are more for sport, than a necessity .. and the cafe/gallery has sadly burned down..

There is still a lot about Wisdom that remains the same.  The town.  Fetty’s.  The gas station.  The Antler.  The Cow Chip Open.  Most importantly, many of the same people.  How good and kind they are.  Open to visitors who become family.

And the mistakes they make, learning the ropes of being a cowboy…

It’s not ‘a lasso’ …

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We were grabbing lunch the other day with a girlfriend of mine.. and I’m not sure how the topic came up.

But the word ‘lasso’ flew into the conversation..

“Uh oh,” I thought.  And I started laughing.

“If you don’t want to look like a greenhorn,” says the Cowboy…

“Don’t call it a lasso.  People from the city are always calling it a lasso,” he says to her, very seriously.

“It bugs me.”

We all start laughing.  Me, in part because I made the same mistake early on in this relationship.  And I’m not sure I’ll ever live it down.

Lasso

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

A lasso (play /ˈlæsoʊ/ or /læˈsuː/), also referred to as a lariat, riata, or reata (all from Spanish la reata), is a loop of rope that is designed to be thrown around a target and tighten when pulled. It is a well-known tool of the American cowboy. The word is also a verb; to lasso is to successfully throw the loop of rope around something. Although the tool has several proper names, such terms are rarely employed by those who actually use it; nearly all cowboys simply call it a “rope,” and the use of such “roping.” Amongst most cowboys, the use of other terms – especially “lasso” – quickly identifies one as a layman.

A lariat is made from stiff rope so that the noose stays open when the lasso is thrown. It also allows the cowboy to easily open up the noose from horseback to release the cattle because the rope is stiff enough to be pushed a little. A high quality lasso is weighted for better handling. The lariat has a small reinforced loop at one end, called a honda or hondo, through which the rope passes to form a loop.

….

The honda or hando.. for the record, doesn’t sound like it looks apparently.  Cowboy says it’s pronounced (hahn-doo)…

….

The Cowboy grew up roping.

When he was just 3 or 4, he says he would hop on a crazy horse named Chief, with his dad, and they would ride about 5 miles through the pastures to a neighbors house.  To roping club.

The Cowboy says if he remembers right, Chief was ugly as sin.   (A little side note there.)  But, a good horse.

It was a weekly competition.  Apparently anywhere from 20 to 30 guys would show up.  They kept track of how everyone did, kind of like a league.  And at the end of the year, they gave away a buckle.

“Did you love it?” I asked as we were talking about what I might write.

“I did.  It was good.  I just grew up with it.  Roped all through school.  For a few years when we moved to town, I quit.  But when they bought another place in the country… my uncle got us all started again.  I haven’t stopped since, I guess.  Until now.”

The Cowboy’s earned quite a few buckles in his career.  He made it to state time and again in high school ..  roped all through college and was team roping professionally, until the divorce.  He didn’t want to be gone on weekends anymore or traveling when he might have a chance to see his kids.  And life with the rodeo, is apparently, a life on the road.

….

He is still on the road quite a bit, back and forth between South Dakota and Wisconsin.  In fact, he grabbed his coat just this morning.. and headed for home.

He gets a few hours tonight with the kids..

And he loves that they .. are the ones now picking up the rope.

In fact, my daughter, since meeting the Cowboy has learned quite a bit.

Even she reminds me;  Real cowboys use a rope.  When you’re above your head and its a in a circle, its still not called ‘a lasso’.  It’s called swinging your loop.

I can still hear her.. the last time I messed up and called it the wrong thing, and then asked, ‘why, again’?

‘That’s just what you call it, mom.’

I believe that’s the same answer (minus the ‘mom’ reference) I gave the other day, to my girlfriend.

Sometimes …

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Sometimes… sometimes it isn’t church people need to reground them.  Like I talked about yesterday.

Sometimes it’s a mountain.  I used to hike when I lived in Montana and that always felt like going to church.  Even looking at the mountains.  Peaceful.

Sometimes it’s a good book that takes people away.  The Cowboy and I were talking about insightful versus just good fiction reads tonight.. as we spent some time at the bookstore.

Maybe a long, hard workout.  Or a hot yoga class.

Or a ride.  On a bike.  (Sarah, never noticed the police sticker on the back of the bike until was posting this pic from our ride.. curious of the story behind it!)

Or, a horse.

Maybe a concert.  The dog park.  Or a night out with friends.

There are a lot of things that help someone let go, step back, escape for even a few minutes.

Sometimes though .. there is just NOTHING like a good vacation.  Forces you to step outside the drama of the everyday.  Helps hit the reset button.

If I could send a few wonderful people on a good vacation right now, for even a few days, I believe the world would be a much more calm, happy place.  Maybe.

Maybe not.  But sometimes, it is nice to think about, if not try.  Because then, even if it is for a few moments, you can pull yourselves away from their drama.

Tomorrow’s blog (I think. If nothing else pressing comes up):  Why it’s not called ‘a lasso’.  Or, perhaps, ‘what happens when your child walks in on ….’ You know, a much lighter, mortifying topic.

I won’t lie…

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I was supposed to get together with a girlfriend tonight .. she asked to reschedule.  She hasn’t been feeling well.

I gladly obliged.  Everyone around me lately has been sick.

SO…

I’m hanging out at one of my fav coffee /wine shops in town.  And I’m strangely, really good with that.  (Although I keep running into people I know here and writing this is taking forever)

The Cowboy just called.  It’s late to start a drive from South Dakota to WI.  But, he’s on his way.

Sigh.  Of relief.

I won’t lie…

I wasn’t sure he was going to come, quite honestly.  It’s been a rough past 48 hours ..

He’s been pretty bummed, I think, since the House Bill passed as is.

He’s not sure what it will mean.  If anything.  To improve his time with the kids.  And if it doesn’t, where does that leave them all.  Any of the parents in his shoes.  If it’s not ‘a better place’ so to speak, if there are no guarantee spending thousands more on taking this all back to court so that there is a more equal split of time with the kids between homes, what will happen?  What can he possibly do then to change things?  Anything?  Does he stay?  Keep taking it on the chin?  Make the most of his 4 days a month?  Is there a chance visitation guidelines are next to change.  Or, does he step back.  Is it better for them to not be stuck between the conflict of their parents?  Does he go about his life and hope his kids will be ok?   Hope above everything else, they know he loves them?

Where does this leave them?  Any better than they were before?  Was it worth sticking his neck out?  Day to day that answer varies as of late.  One day he feels it was.  The next .. he’s not so sure.

So he’s been in a funk.

And he’s needed a good couple of days to hang out in that space.

My challenge, rather, our challenge;  I’m not good with funk.  I can handle it, for a bit.  But I’m not good at allowing myself – or someone else, especially someone I love so dearly, to stay there for long.  Bummed.  Feeling sorry for themselves.  Frustrated.  I want to help.  But sometimes you just can’t.  SO..  we’ve had a bit of a rough patch.

He feels there’s no way I can understand.  And that its ok for someone to be down.  Not for long, but for longer than I was giving him.  I don’t know that I can ever fully understand.  I can’t imagine being totally in his shoes where I don’t have time with my daughter and the leverage of equal time and placement.  But my instinct is to say, let’s roll.  Let’s fix it.  Let’s get you all to wherever that better place is.  All, including, the ex and her entourage.  Write down what your hopes are.  Let’s figure out how to achieve.  Let’s go….

Because I can always think of a situation worse .. to be in.

I’m a glass half full girl.  If we’re healthy and we’re alive, God has a plan.  And, it’s going to be okay.

He’s probably right though.  I am impatient.  And I should have given him a bit more time to swallow a very bitter pill.  Grieve, quite honestly, that the best chance he had at healing some of the wounds divorce has caused he and his kids, wasn’t going to happen.  Not this time, anyway.

With a little experience and some time post my own divorce, under my belt, I have hope.

….

He’s on his way.  Almost here ..actually, by the time I actually post this.

I can’t wait to see him.  We are thankfully past any frustrations.  Neither of us likes being in that place, either.  Upset that is, with each other or in life.  I debated whether or not to write about this tonight, but I felt it important both to give this follow up to the events earlier this week.  And to be realistic about the fact not everything between he and I or any couple for that fact, can always feel or be perfect.

Was it worth sticking his neck out there?  Will some of the terrible events of the past couple weeks somehow mean a better future for the Cowboy and his kids (and his ex)?  While that remains to be seen there were two things that helped snap him out of his funk today.

First, that we will see each other again here shortly.

But far bigger and better than that:

The ex allowed him a few hours tonight that ‘weren’t his’ (no one’s asking why there was this astonishing turn of events or heart, everyone is just reveling in it – giddy, really at the gift of extra time together) .. with his daughter.

It was a daddy/daughter dance at church.

Something he’s looked forward to since mom, earlier this week, said they could go together.  He bought her a wrist corsage.  Mom got her beautifully dressed up.  And the two danced the night away.  Before the clock struck 9.  And he had to take her back home.

“We had the best time,” he said when he called after dropping her off.  “She said she felt like a princess .. we danced the entire night.  At least until they pulled out the roping dummies at the very end, and I had to help everyone learn how to rope.”

I almost spit my wine out as I laughed…

Only in South Dakota I think to myself.  Then I realize, probably not.  I’m learning how many more places would do this.  Anyway..

As I sat at my little table earlier tonight with my glass of wine and started to type.. I said a little toast, to them all.  Congratulations for a beautiful night.  May this be the start of only good things to come.

At my dads..

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It was a late night of driving up into the northwoods of northern Wisconsin..

The two lane highway last night once we were north of Minocqua was pretty quiet.  There was an occasional car.  Otherwise, only the wind was howling..

We pulled onto the dirt road heading to my dads at about 2:30 this morning.

…

February, unfortunatley is a month I can not take any time off of work unless death is knocking on the door.  Sincerely.  I work in news.  Ad rates are based off of ratings four months out of the year.  Which means no time off.  So we didn’t leave town for the 6 hour drive until about 8 o’clock last night. 

I’m usually up late nights, so that part wasn’t a big deal.  But I’m not always a fan of driving in rural areas at that hour. 

We were dodging deer.  Random snowdrifts across the road.  People leaving the bars in their vehicles and on snowmobile.  And, worst of all, try finding somewhere in northern Wisconsin open to use the bathroom in subzero temps just after midnight.  Not an easy task.

But my dad wants more time with us.  And us with him. 

And its been too long since we made the trip north.  SO.. we packed up the the car, all of our winter weather gear, skiis, skates, snacks and the dogs and .. arrived in the wee hours of the morning.

….

We slept in.

It’s below zero. 

Still….

We might go skiing.

We brought our ice skates.

We fed the birds.

We’ve watched our two labs run around like this is the time of their life.  NO leash, lots of animal scents to check out and no one else as far as the eye can see is like heaven for a dog.

Its almost 2pm and we’re just eating breakfast.

I feel like I’m in heaven.

While there are a ton of things we COULD be doing, running from one thing to the next, which often is my norm, we are doing much of nothing today.  Except spend time together.

Quality time.

In fact I just spent the past two hours on the computer with my dad.  Teaching him how to use something most of us use everyday and take for granted that it’s easy.  It isn’t for him. I have never understood why. I’ve been frustated he wouldn’t use it more to keep in touch with us.  And, I never would have understood why.  Had I not taken the opportunity today to just be still, and spend time with him this morning.

I’m going to write about why that was cathartic later tonight, perhaps.

But for now.. I’m going to eat the delicious breakfast he just made that reminds me of all the weekend mornings he used to cook for us when we were kids.

Nothing like cheese smothered eggs

(I’ll post pictures later, have some fun ones of today but can’t figure out on his computer where to download the pics off my camera!)

The Cowboy’s mom wrote about the importance of time in her plea this week to South Dakota state legislators in regard to passage of bills that give children in divorce, equal time wherever and whenever in their best interest, with both parents.  I won’t dwell on that.  What struck me as I was thinking about what I wanted to write today.. was the theme of time.

And how when we have it, or the opportunity to have it especially with family, it is a gift.

My mom isn’t around anymore.  She’s been gone now, almost 11 years.  I miss her more than anything.  And the last thing I did before leaving our house for the drive here last night, was touch the photo I have of her on my dresser.  I have many others who are like a mom to me – for so many reasons.  I love them all dearly.  So does my daughter and I want for her to know how each of them has played a role in who I am today.  At some point this year, you’ll meet them too, if you stick around long enough. 

But my mom, is gone.  And I would give anything for more time with her..

I know my dad would too. 

We’ll ony be here a day and a half, and have to head home.

Down time ...

But I know the time with him is precious.  We need to make more late night drives.

Can’t sleep …

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People always worry its a man that’s abusive in a relationship.

People often don’t believe there’s no abuse taking place if a hand isn’t risen.  Or that it hasn’t been documented.

I’m worried tonight .. ahem, this morning, about the Cowboy.

I may have no just cause.

But I am.

Because when certain people feel attacked and like they are losing control over a situation, they lash out.  Words and actions become even more irrational than they may normally be.  Things go awry.

…

The Cowboy is finally taking a stand against behaviors and a situation that if done to a woman, no one would hesitate to cry foul.

He doesn’t really care at this point, to address any of what’s happened to him .. and the kids in the past.  Or to her.  He hopes the fact the final paperwork has finally arrived and the divorce is final will allow everyone to move on.  But the one thing that does need to be addressed, is time with his kids.  The three things .. the three little people that mean the most to him in his life, he now sees four whole days a month.  He has to be creative to get any more time with than that.  And at every turn, he is often deliberately shut out.  Every turn.

A man who is a good and loving dad, and wants to be a part of raising his children, should not have to fight for what should be his to begin with, and that is time to love and raise his kids.

Somehow, according to the ex, that is just wrong.  And there is every effort being made on her part at this point to silence him.

Hell hath no fury like a woman who’s been scorned.

The Cowboys effort has never been to take their children away from their mother.  Has never been to smear her name.  Has never been to raise awareness that abuse comes in many forms and perhaps reveal testimony, facts and a judges findings to the public so both sides can be presented here.  None of us wants to drag anyones name through the mud like its somehow acceptable for others to do right now when it comes to the Cowboy.

While he has stayed the course and kept his message, along with every other person that testified yesterday before God and South Dakota state legislators about the need for both parents to have equal time with their children wherever and whenever possible, only two felt the need to bring in personal attacks.  And they were both women who will do anything to get their way.

One, seems willing to go to just about any length to ensure no one gets time with her kids, but her.

The other, a South Dakota State Senator, should be ashamed of the tactics deployed today.  But we expected nothing less.

We pray.  We hope someday things for everyone get better in this scenario.  And we, along with so many others who respect and stand alongside the Cowboy, are trying like crazy to stay about it all.

But in the quiet .. still night .. out in the Plains of South Dakota, there is a man, a woman feels very threatened by.  Not because he will raise a hand to her.

But because he is good.  And strong.  And fighting fair, unlike what either of them .. or many others for that fact, may have ever done in their marriage.  And deep down she has to know the mission he is on, is right.

I’m worried about the Cowboy.

When I need to think …

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We all have various quirks we inevitably do .. when we need to really do some thinking.

My brother tends to pull on his ear.

Lately I’ve been writing.

But, most of my adult life, I’ve come to realize, I clean.

Fortunately for me.. after days of running around with extra projects at work.. meetings.. appointments.. dinners.. going through stacks of paperwork.. cats peeing on my daughters bed for some reason and the subsequent load of laundry.. researching child placement studies & articles and talking a few experts on the topic while the Cowboy was here recently .. there is a lot of cleaning tonight, to do.

I was going to write over the next few nights about the Cowboys journey.  The one he is on to simply help he and his kids come back to being a family .. not relative strangers on a visit ..

I love the word journey because its what we are all on and where the road will take us .. we have yet to see round the next bend.

But perhaps ‘fight’ is a more appropriate term.   Be prepared for the next few days to be all about the Cowboy’s fight, for more time with his kids.  Because that is all some seem to want to do about an issue that only makes sense.  Many if not most current studies will tell you, adults fighting is the absolute worst thing for children when it comes to divorce.  When parents fight, kids can’t adjust.  When parents co-parent, reserve judgement, get past blame and just love them best they can and let the other parent do the same, kids can get through just about anything.  Including living between two homes.

But some want to fight.

I can’t imagine living in that space where anger and lashing out seem like your best option.

So I’m praying for peace in hearts and homes everywhere.

And because I know that’s a pretty tall order..

I’m going to keep cleaning tonight.  Because I have this crazy notion that if I take enough time to think about it, I’ll eventually come to some understanding why anyone, especially someone who loves to boast they are God fearing, the better person, an upstanding citizen and always ‘right’ .. would ever treat another person with disdain, ill will and do everything possible to inflict pain where none is deserved.  I’m searching for answers.  But coming up with nothing that makes sense.

I may run out of things to clean..

The title of my story, she says ..

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How often do you have those moments of clarity?

Clarity where, as a parent, you don’t worry so much about if you’re setting a good example, you see something spark in your child and you just know, they’re going to be okay.  That you’re not a horrible parent and they’ve gotten more from you than you ever dreamed.

That the temper tantrum last night was for you – and the rest of the world may see a very different young lady.

…

I grabbed the Cowboy the other day and we quickly ran over the lunch hour to my daughters school.  Every child in the class had written a story about something that was important to them, where they had maybe learned something and would want to share.

They’ve done this once already this year and it was priceless.  The things kids come up with, put in writing and aren’t afraid to say, we might all not only get a good chuckle out of, but learn from.  Last time, my daughter wrote about her cats.  Well, our cats.  And what they meant to her.

I had no idea what her story was about this time around.

With her dad, myself and the Cowboy in the audience among many other parents.. the teacher called her name.  She went and sat in the reading chair.

“The title of my story is, Saving Lives.” she says.

She proceeds to read the story she wrote;  recollections and emotions surrounding the day she and I years ago had to stop for a kitten lumbering across the middle of a country road.  We stopped to move it out of the way so it wouldn’t get run over.  And realized quickly, no one was caring for this sweet little thing.  It was very, very sick and its eyes were so clouded over with puss it had no idea it was walking into the middle of not just a road, but its own demise.  Or, maybe it did.  The poor thing was miserable and alone.

We picked it up, wrapped it in a towel we had as we were heading to our friends cottage on a nearby lake.

And the following day, after giving it as much love and tlc as we could, took it to the Humane Society to see if anything could be done to save it.

Days later… we got the call.  It had passed.

My daughter cried.  She felt like she couldn’t go on.  (Not only was she feeling that way at the time, this was in her story..)  She has one of the biggest, kindest hearts, not just for animals but people as well.  And while I often don’t get or take the time to see it (due to tight schedules, homework, only having her part-time, arguments, her talking back, growing up and asserting independence and the everyday little things we do that frustrate each other) .. that afternoon at school, I was reminded acutely of what a kind soul my little 10 year old is.

She wrote about that day.  But she also wrote about what it taught her.  And as I sat and listened .. I glanced over at the Cowboy.  He smiled at me.  ‘Wow,’ he whispered.

I perhaps should have turned around and given her dad a glance and a smile.  But I am just never sure what he thinks of the influence I have on her.  Given this story was all about our day and what she learned from it, I didn’t know if turning around to catch his eye would make him smile or .. well, frustrate him further.  I hope for the former.

Regardless, she found a lesson in it all, about life.

“Love things while you have them.”

It is a lesson I perhaps learned as well when I was younger.  But it’s one I have been reminded of countless times, especially through loss over the years, in my life.

Not only was her story and what she pulled out of that day something to celebrate, but she read aloud, annunciated, gave the right inflection at the right time and looked up and smiled at all of us when she was done.

Clarity.

Clarity that this day is good, that she can be and is strong, that she is insightful.  That she is learning how to communicate well and write.  That she loves her mom and dad and it means the world to her that either of us/we’re both there to help her celebrate her accomplishments.  That the little things count.  And that she is listening.

With the teen years fast approaching, that alone is something I know I need to appreciate while I have it.

Drinks .. a good question .. and the gift of time.

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We are enjoying a rare moment with some friends that I adore but rarely get a chance to see,  tonight..

As we’re gathering up our things and sorting out the bill, one of them asks the Cowboy, “How many horses do you have?”

“Oh, 8 head right now,” says the Cowboy.

“Why do they call it ‘head of horse’, versus just horse?” they ask .. “Do some have more than one head?”  We all laugh.

I don’t know that I had ever thought to ask that question.

“Because you count heads when you count livestock,” replies the cowboy, with a chuckle.  “That’s just the way they do it.”

We are all capping off our respective days of work, meetings, appointments and the days challenges .. with a cocktail.  Down time with friends and family is wonderful, isn’t it?  I don’t have, or I should say, I don’t make room for it often enough.  I really don’t.  I try on a daily basis to not feel like a horrible person for it and make room wherever I can.  But somehow, I can never seem to find the time to talk with everyone I want in my day-to-day.

The Cowboy reminds me daily not necessarily through words, but his actions, of how much better at it I could be.

Today, it was the phone call back home to South Dakota, first thing this morning.

“Happy Birthday, mom!” he says.  I can hear his mothers voice on the other end of the line,  sounding so happy to hear from him.  “You made it there okay last night?” she asks.  “I did.  It was pretty foggy, but I made pretty good time.”

“I saw that,” she says.

“What?” says the Cowboy.

“That it was foggy.. I read the blog.” she replies.

Both the Cowboy and I chuckle a bit .. to know his mom is reading any of this.  But at the same time, I’m flattered.  I adore her.  She is a good, hard working woman who loves all her boys and their families a ton from everything I have seen thus far.  She, like most moms, may not be perfect.  (I say that because the boys all fuss at her on occasion.)  But she tries to be there for any/all of them as best she can; the Cowboy’s dad, he and his two brothers and their families.

Right now I believe the Cowboys mom just wants to do anything she can to help the four of them.  The fallout from the divorce has been tough on their whole family.  It is for most.

I remind him to tell her he loves her.

I would give anything to hear my own mothers voice on the other end of the line.  She’s been gone now 10 years.  But this reminds me, and he reminds me, to try and be better about staying in touch with the family and friends still here.

Tonight was wonderful .. the time with friends .. (6 head if you count ’em like livestock), capped off a beautiful day.  A day where I spent some extra time with my daughter.  And, that started with a sweet phone call home to the Cowboys mom.

“I love you too,” she says and adds one more time, “I’m glad you made it there okay,” …

The gym…

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We really need to figure out how to make the back and forth between SD and WI work a little better.  Only because, well, because we’d prefer to be in the same place.  But also because its taking a toll I’m pretty sure, on both our waistlines.

The Cowboy and I have individually been on the go, non-stop it seems .. like many of you.  Since before the holidays, we have been eating poorly … (well, worse than we might otherwise, with a steady diet of coffee & red bull for the long drives, cheese, crackers, some fruit thrown in for good measure and for me, chocolate.  Gotta have chocolate.  Just a little bit everyday.  And a good microbrew when its appropriate.  True.  I love good beer.) not getting enough sleep … (well, that’s what everyone keeps telling me but I’ve never slept much) and definitely, not enough exercise.

Until I met the Cowboy… I was kind of an exercise fiend.  Not like, over-the-top about it. And not uber competitive.  But the gym was on my calendar at least twice a week along with running 4-5 days.  And, I would pick a few races each year and train for something.

I just like to be fit.  Feel fit if nothing else.


In need these days of a tune-up

So does the Cowboy.

Despite the fact we try and run a few times a week and I’m comfortable looking like a fool out on the streets in the neighborhood doing lunges, side steps, pushups and the like, don’t think either of us are ‘feelin’ it at the moment.

So today I forced myself, despite having only 20 minutes to get in and out and change somewhere in there into my workout clothes.. to go to the gym.

It felt good.  And as I called the Cowboy quick on my way in the door, he says to me, “Honey, that’s great you’re going.  I’ve got to start being more consistent with working out, too.  I know we’ve been running, but I’ve got to do more.”

Both of us do, I’m thinking to myself.

I didn’t tell him as I was about to hang up.. I was finishing off half a Snickers bar, feeling famished not having had any lunch yet.

I’ve got to keep going to the gym.

Gathering dust

We all say that, don’t we?  Hoping we find a way to stick to it.  It may be one more thing on the to-do list each day.. but probably one of the most important things that just needs to get put back on the schedule.    And who needs sleep anyway…..