FeeLiNG GLee oR "THiS iS So NoT Me"

So, I was quite outdoorsy over the weekend so far. On Friday, I went for a power walk with just me, my iPod, and some kickass songs, like for instance, this one. Tell me you do not love it?



You cannot watch that video and NOT feel happy. Am I right? Of course I'm right. It's a great song and an awesome TV show, and you all know I DO NOT WATCH TV. But I can't wait for the Glee series! Hello, hot boy!

So, Friday morning started out with a major great outdoor power walk to really good music, and then I stopped by my friend C’s house, who was planning a bike ride to Starbucks with her kids.

“Can we come too?” I asked.

Of course, I don’t have a bike, and have not straddled one in more than probably 26 years. Yeah, do the math. I probably haven’t been on a bike since I was about 14. Fortunately, or unfortunately, take your pick, C lent me her hubby’s bike and I grabbed my three kids, she grabbed two of hers, and we set off on a bike trip to Starbucks.

OK. How did I not know bike riding could be so much fun? I wanted to continue on after our trip to Starbucks, but again, in the vein of THiS iS So Not Me, we had to later meet Mr. Manic at REI. And did I even know what REI stood for? No. I have never set foot in an REI because what in the hell do I need from an REI?

I’ll tell you what.

Hiking shoes.

The Manic family and C’s family are going to Yellow-Freakin’-Stone Park NEXT MONTH. I know, I know. How will Manic deal with the OUTDOORS?

I have no fucking clue.

The big joke in our family is that ‘roughing it’ means the ice machine is on a different floor at the Hyatt or Marriott or some other 3+ star hotel. So yeah, a trip to YellowStone Park is going to be an adventure!

Of course, I put the kibosh on the request that we all camp outdoors in TENTS! Hellooooo! There are such things as BEARS out in the wild. I do not want my children getting eaten by bears.

So, there’s lots to think about/prepare for/get my Xanax tolerance pumped up before we leave for this trip, but one of the preps were to get hiking shoes.

I got really cute ones. They don’t even look like hiking shoes. And they are accented in green.

And are comfy.

I should know, because that afternoon, Tukey almost puked all over my brand-new hiking shoes. And, he almost puked in Mr. Manic’s prize possession of a car. But THANK YOU LORD, Tukey is amazing because somehow we got the car window down and he blew chunks all outside of the car, with barely a few strands of vomit making it on the inside of the car. In the Walgreen’s parking lot. Right next to a white jeep. There was tons of it. Tukey gets car sick a lot. But usually, he threatens to puke but never does. Usually.

So, I grab him out of the car when I’m sure he’s not going to yak on my new shoes any longer, and set him on the curb. A really nice lady comes over and offers me a bottled water and I have Grandma Manic run in to buy a roll of paper towels. We get Tukey cleaned up and are about to leave but I feel bad because the person in the white jeep is going to come out and see puke RIGHT NEXT TO HER CAR. She will practically have to step over it to get into her car.

I wait for the woman to come out and tell her I’m sorry but my kid puked next to her car.

So. That’s part of the story. Then we go watch Diva play softball and I’m still trying to yank the hot pokers from my eye socket over that game. Seriously, these 10-year-old softball games are brutal to watch. They bowl-pitch and then finally, and adult has to come in to pitch the last couple of balls in order for the girl to be brave enough to swing. Brutal.

Then, later, since my biking experience was so extraordinary, C and I decide we are going to be really aggressive this a.m. and bike all the way to the Farmer’s Market.

Here’s the interesting part:

I don’t bike.

I rarely buy produce.

Right? Right. So, our plan was that C was going to call me at 6:45 a.m. to wake me up so we could leave at 7 a.m. Mr. Manic was like, “You’re getting up at 6:45 on a Saturday? To go biking? And to go buy produce?”

You THINK you know someone.

So, this a.m. I’m all jazzed up for the big biking excursion because come on! I am a biker now! I did it once and love it now. Of course, and feel quite free to yell at me in the comments, I am too cool to wear the helmet, and I’ll be apologizing all over God’s green earth the day I wipe out and need a trillion head stitches.

I wake up early, and instead of waiting for C to call to ‘wake me up’ as was the plan, I instead text her. I AM UP AND READY TO BIKE.

She texts back: I WAS UP TIL 1 AM

My reply: TOO BAD. WE R GOING.

She was so sure I would bag out of the trip that she didn’t even set her alarm, and then here I am texting her at the crack of dawn. She was not happy, but I cajoled her into the journey.

And wow. Amazing! We rode to the downtown where the Farmer’s Market is. Not Chicago downtown, but our local town. It is about six miles one way. See, don’t you think that’s pretty good for a first-time biker?

And then we get to the Market and I am so happy there. There’s beautiful fresh produce and pretty flowers, and newly baked bread and I bought a ton of stuff:

Tiny yellow potatoes
Asparagus
Hulless popcorn (which popped up great!)
Beeswax vanilla lotion bar
Lip balm for Diva
Honey sticks flavored like rootbeer and watermelon that the kids hated
Cookies sold by the ADOPT organization, and yes, C found a dog hair in hers. Ewww.

And I think that’s about all I could buy to carry home in my queer little backpack but it was a glorious day and I was so proud for going outside of my comfort zone and doing something I’d never done before and having so much fun.

Riding bikes is really cool. Even going up those bastard hills aren’t too bad cuz you know that there’s a way down on the other side, and feeling the wind in your face after pedaling really hard is like a teeny little gift you get for the price of exercise!

Of course, maybe I am liking bike riding now since I have done spin class about six times and haven’t quit yet. I may be needing to buy me a bike!

So, after that big journey on bikes to the Farmer’s Market where before yesterday I never rode a bike or bought produce, I am feeling like a new woman! And I may be embracing a new sort of sport: Biking for Produce. Yep, that’s me, a new woman.

Of course, I’m going to feel like a new woman tomorrow too … a decrepit old woman who won’t be able to get her ass out of bed because she is going to be so sore from all the exercise from over the weekend. But, eh, oh well!