Euphoria

And I am....OFFFFFFFFF for six days!
Still not a flake of snow on the ground. Very odd looking.

Loukhi got officially baptised, à son corps défendant. Indeed, she fell in a full bath tub. If you've ever seen a six inches long black fur ball in full panic mode, that was it. Afterwards, she was nothing but a humid kitten for a while. Poor baby. Heh. Live and learn.

Did I mention my being off? As in, on holidays? Like, not working? Like nothing to do but drink, wrap, and unwrap presents? And eat outrageously until December 26, at which time proper nourishment and training kicks back in. And alcohol detox starts. Because let's face it, I'm an excessive type of person. Just like I love excessively and train, well, seriously. I drink, well, abundantly, when I give myself permission to. But I will hardly touch a drink between January and May, serious training time.

Yeah, I'm aiming for a minimum of eight hours of exercise per week. And I still feel like the wimpiest wimp, because my close friend is a triathlonian. Everything is relative, said the white-haired genious.
The new session, starting January 15, will hold a new challenge for me. After the spinning session following the workout session, here comes the three classes in a row (3 hours) workout. On Wednesdays only. I expect not to be able to finish, at first, and gradually work to finishing while still looking human, instead of something the cat brought in. I need new shoes, AGAIN, because at the rate I'm going, my shoes hardly last me six months.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go and gloat because I'm off for six days...