Watching the Olympics hasn't proven conducive to me getting any exercise. Instead of being out on my bike, blasting through the trails, I'm couch-squatting, bathing in blue flickering light (with very occaisional glints of bronze), holding my breath as athletes contort and gambol across the screen. 2 bags of popcorn and 3 beers later, my enthusiasm for physical exploits is good and quashed. Hopefully CBC keeps profiling table tennis into tonight, so I can get out for a ride. Beach volleyball and rowing are too good to pass up. Those gosh darn Canadian women... such jolly good sports.
My big workout this weekend was a really nice early morning walk with Dallas at Starky Hill. It was one of those walks where Dallas was so glad to be out, and I was enjoying the warm air, slight breeze, and greenery - Dallas was so blissfully happy, she kept flashing me big doggy grins as she bounded by. The repeating pattern- race up the path, get totally lost in some new scent, and then bolt back in a panic in case the human has wandered off somewhere. Check! Kibble-Provider still accounted for. Back up the path... For variety, sometimes she rolled in things. Very happy days for her. Lots of attention and exercise (well, with the exception of last week).
Speaking of Dallas... we spent 3 hours shaving her fur down to 1/2", reasoning that a) Dallas was happier without it, b) Linda is sure happier without it, and c) if Dallas lives at least 2 more years, I will reach payback for the extravagently priced clippers needed to do this work. Of course c) depends on my time being worth nothing, but then there are the overriding benefits of b) outweighing pretty much any cost you'd care to name. I coughed up the cash, and filled the driveway with piles of drifting, choking blonde fur. For a 6 block radius, cats would have got a whiff of something putrid, and then gone sly and edgy. But if you own a cat, you'd grow used to that.
Tonight- a riding night. And yes, Dallas is coming.
