I have done more stairs this week than Rocky.
It has been nice living on the second floor. I don’t hear people scuttle around above me. I’m not distracted by people walking past my windows. But dear Jesus, all those benefits come at the horrible cost of having to move all my crap in small, box-sized portions, down a flight of stairs in the sun and 90-degree heat and then jog back up for another round of misery.
The moving dragged on forever and ever and ever. After moving all the large objects in a rental truck last Monday, I was left with all the remainder items to transport in car loads. Each time I’d look around the apartment and think, “Ok, this will fit in two car loads.” Then I’d pack everything up and think, “Ok, I guess I actually have two more car loads after this.” And then I’d drive and unload and come back and pack up some more and think, “Ok, this is the final two car loads for sure,” but it was not. Eventually I wondered if I’d ever finish moving out at all, but finally, yesterday, I got almost all of my crap out of that apartment and just have to go back tonight to spackle some holes in the walls and turn in my keys.
So, if you are thinking of moving, imagine how much work you think it will be and then multiply that by 200% and then hit yourself in the arms and legs with a wooden spoon a few times to visualize all the bruises that will appear on your body after lugging boxes and lamps around, and then you might have a small sense of how much fricking work it is.
I resumed my Couch to 5K training on Saturday and was sort of worried I might not be able to do the run because I’d taken 5 days off to move things, but that was silliness. I did perfectly fine and felt good to be running instead of doing the equivalent of 15 flights of stairs. I’ve even lost a pound this week, despite eating a carton of ice cream, half a pepperoni pizza and an apple pie dessert pizza from Papa Johns. As I have learned from this experience and from my recent vacation, the secret to weight maintenance is that you can eat whatever crap you want as long as you work like a dog all day long. Construction workers may have tough jobs, but they must eat like I only dream I could.