What I Did on My Weekend, Part CDLXXVII (477)
2008-11-10, 11:15 p.m.
I worked. Then I worked some more. I cut my thumb. Tiny cut, hardly bled, but it’s in a bad spot. The cut – not my thumb. Scraped a knuckle or three and managed to bang my thumb with a hammer. Yes, the same one with the cut. The thumb, not the hammer.
What do I have to show for it all?
A washer & dryer that are kina sorta installed. Runable at least. Room is not finished, but the plumbing & wiring is complete, so I can go full speed on the drywall now. There are even lights in the ceiling now so there’s no more need to use trouble lights and/or utility lights constantly.
But man, I’m sore. Most of the plumbing & wiring took place in the crawl space under the room formerly known as the family room. Sure, there’s a concrete floor with carpet remnants covering it and it’s heated, but that’s where the amenities end. Head space? Ummmm, no. Strictly hands & knees. Till you have to crawl under a heater pipe, then it’s a belly crawl. Lighting? Bring it with you. Spiders? Don’t need any, there’s plenty under there already. What really sucks is that I had to solder some pipes under there, lying on my back, looking up at the solder (the HOT solder) that wanted to do nothing more than drip on my face.
I’m happy to report that my rugged good looks are no more rugged than when we started. A wee bit haggard maybe, but no fresh scars or cuts. On my face. My left hand though? Really, really hates my right hand. Funny how that works. My right hand “does all the work” but the left hand takes all the abuse. It’s a good thing my left hand isn’t allowed to hold any weapons.
The Bob. Had him over Sunday. He had a good day with us. Tried to keep him busy with tasks, but when you’re trying to throw a room together from the bones up, there’s not a lot a 76 year old guy with dementia can do to help. I’d give him the odd task to do, but he’s just not operating at the same speed as the rest of us – mentally or physically. Spent a fair amount of time just moving around him to get to where we were going, hoping he didn’t get overwhelmed by the hubbub.
We all survived the day, sat down to a nice steaming bowl of jambalaya for dinner (I have an unnatural love for that stuff) and went back at it. Put up one more piece of drywall and crashed. Literally. Except Sunday is trash night, and we had to get The Bob back to Club Med, and the kids all scattered 12 different directions. Finally, around 8 or 8:30 I lumbered upstairs to grab a shower. Hate the thought of hitting the sheets as dusty & grimy as I was, so a shower, no matter how late it was, was definitely in order.
Way back on Friday, as I strolled into Gary the Sadistic Bastards spin class, I noticed that Bill – the Monday morning spin instructor – was in attendance. If he was out surveying other folks’ classes, he picked a real winner to check out. In the general spectrum of spin instructors, Bills classes are on the “easier to get through” end. Gary’s classes? Heh. How do you think he’s earned the “Sadistic Bastard” moniker?
What was really nice to see was Bill having to back down and take little breaks during Gary’s class. There are always parts of exercises or drills you can sort of opt out of, and I noticed that Bill (whom I sat right next to) did just that. Made me feel better. It’s pretty common knowledge that most instructors don’t crank up the resistance as much as they’d like the students to. Gary is one of the worst offenders because there is no way in hell that he can be going as fast as he does at the resistance levels he talks us into. So he’s performing some sleight of hand with “his little friend” (the resistance control knob you pervs) just to make it look good. Apparently Bill is too, or he’d be able to keep pace, right?
To there credit (ALL instructors, not just Bill & Gary), it’s one thing to be able to hang in there for the whole hour pedaling like a mad dog. It’s quite another to keep your wits about you and talk the whole time too. Then add in the resistance (hill simulators) and there’s no way you can cue the class, pedal, breathe, watch everyone’s form and coach without horking up a lung. So if they have to dial it down a bit, fine. Just be prepared for a little snickering when you can’t keep the pace in another instructors’ class.
So what did Bill learn/integrate from attending Gary’s class? Hard to say. This morning it was the same old techno-muzik with the moderate pace and a bunch of hill climbing. Hardly ever any sprints. Personally, I think moderate paced hill climbing is great for building endurance. It’s something you can do for long periods of time without a break. Gets a nice sweat working and lets you know you’re alive. Sprints? All depends. It’s nice if the instructor lets you know how long you’ll be sprinting, then you can scale your efforts accordingly. Alternatively, if you DON’T know how long the sprint is, you might overreach on the speed a bit. THAT’s what builds more endurance. Guessing wrong, going too fast but trying to hang in till the end – whenever that is. It’s also another way to hork up a lung. You have two lungs – horking just one out onto the floor ought to be ok, right?
Man. Can you believe ‘hork’ wasn’t in the spell checker? I said wasn’t because, well, I just HAD to add it. Makes this computer seem so much more colorful now.
Gotta cut this short. Between work and home, I’m wore out. Stayed at work till 6 tonight, worked at home till 9 or so. Need to meet a contractor Tuesday morning then get back at it for a few days. Trying to get some time Friday to prep for deer season and maybe spend some down time for a bit.
Speaking of down time . . .
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