…said the one forsythia flower, to its neighbor.
Gone are the 80+ degree temperatures that no doubt prompted these guys to open up weeks ahead of schedule: we’re back in overcast, rainy, 50’s-territory. This particular forsythia is actually at a friend’s house down in the subtropics of Massachusetts. Our forsythia is biding its time – it hasn’t bloomed yet, which is probably good, since it’s supposed to dip below freezing tonight.
Red maple buds in the parking lot at the coop. They happy.
Can we interrupt this alleged nature blog to discuss just how exhausted I am? I got up at O’ Dark Early to go to that Tough Mudder exercise class I mentioned the other day. Holy Mother of the Baby Jesus, it was a workout. It was a circuit of a bunch of random exercises, ranging from quarter mile sprints on the treadmill, to bench presses and push ups, to weird stuff like starting in a squat and hopping up on to a 20” tall surface. Oh, and flipping a truck tire over – that one took two people. Well, two of us females, anyway. The guys were doing it themselves. I can’t remember if that thing was supposed to weigh two hundred, or four hundred pounds. It may as well have weighed a thousand pounds. Anyway, you do all these exercises, boom boom, boom, and then you do them all AGAIN, and then – now that you’re a limp noodle, you do ‘em a third time.
I didn’t do all of them.
But I came close. I’m not going next Sunday, because I’m running twelve miles instead, thank you very much. But I’ve signed up for the week after. Incidentally, the reason I’m telling you all this is so that I will actually do it.
This afternoon I went to a friend’s birthday party and had a good time, and inserted chocolate cake into my chocolate cake hole, figuring if I couldn’t have cake after having run five miles yesterday, and endured an hour and a half of solid heart-exploding exercise this morning, there was no justice in the world.
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