Yet, not posting on this blog is making me feel unfulfilled. Either that or I am needing to satisfying my OCD-like need to publicly navel gaze about, well, my navel. So at the risk of attracting more derision and teasing, here's my vacation week so far.
Eating: not bad, far from perfect, but far from descending into the ninth ring of eating Hades. As promised, I am keeping it together on breakfast and lunch. Dinner, as always, is not bad while not perfect. I have tried to snack on fruit, with many apples and peaches consumed. I am still a bit prone to mindless grazing on salty, refined, nutritionally bankrupt snacks, but it hasn't been at extremely disgusting levels. And I've been sneaking ice cream (I know, what mid-40's person really needs to "sneak" ice cream -- sad).
Exercise: hit the gym for weights three mornings this week, and I've only completely blown off exercise completely one day. I've done a good bit of running around on the beach with the vague notion of keeping up with the kids. Walks on the beach have been reasonably frequent.
But the best news on the exercise front has been my new/old friend, my bicycle. I am an early riser by nature, and I'm often up at least one to two hours before the next biped stirs. The last two mornings, I've hit the bike trails with a nice little vengeance. The joy of outdoor exercise cannot be understated, particularly at the crack of dawn. At 6:30 in the morning at a beach town, there is hardly a moving vehicle to be found (in stark contrast to an August afternoon). Going fast in peaceful silence is an amazing, almost meditative experience. Further, the pleasure of blitzing through a long bike trail, and to then emerge on a brilliant, blue ocean is almost surreally beautiful. It's all a nice reminder that exercise does not have to be a chore, but can be a form of unabashed amore.