Housewifing

What does one do in the sticks, when the temperature is soaring 30+ degrees? I am not in charge of gardening, and there is no one to cook for (after making a banana blueberry bred and eating it pretty much alone I decided to stay away from baking). Every single morning of this past week I have slept in, and by that I mean indulged in more bed time that I could have imagined possible – I can’t remember the last time I could have slept until 9am, let alone 10.30 or 11!

The friendliest dude
The friendliest dude

Here I have granted myself the permission to sleep as late as I desire, and as it has become my afternoon routine to grab my Kindle and read Michael Pollan on the patio, I have dozed off until the sun starts to set, the weather cools down and I get a tad chilly. To those interested in food, sociology and cooking, I can highly recommend Michael Pollan’s Cooked. The Netflix documentary of Cooked, albeit stylish like Chef’s Table, has nothing compared to this work of wisdom. I am glad I have finally started to take advantage of this little machine I bought waaaaay back in Hong Kong, and haven’t really used since. After this book I need to come up with something else to read! In a weird way, reading something informative as opposed to Fifty Shades Of Grey makes me feel like I am doing something constructive with my time.

The bread that somehow lasted 2 whole days
The bread that somehow lasted 2 whole days

Besides Cooked and cooking (I also made a frittata, and today kale pesto, but that’s about it), I have immersed myself with studying online and wrecking my brain with design and ideas almost good enough to be gone through. Maybe soon I will actually grasp something, instead of thinking.

All this passiveness in addition to few sneaky episodes of The Vikings would have driven me completely nuts, had I not had the help of Fitnessblender Youtube account to help me move like I mean it. The first Tabata session of the week resulted in horrible pain in my calves that just won’t disappear, so the rest of the week has been a bit more moderate. Who needs pilates studios, when you can do it at home (on a towel if you happened to leave your yoga mat in the last place you lived)?

Pretty flowers on the patio
Pretty flowers on the patio

Funny thing I have experienced for the first time ever this week: the housewife-feeling of waiting the hubby to return home from work. I do things every day that I feel like doing, and time goes by quite pleasantly (did I mention I sleep in and sometimes take a nap too?), but as the hours tick by, I look at the clock more often in anticipation of the human contact that will come as the sun has set and the work for the day has finished.

If I had mouths to feed I reckon I’d do this housewife thing pretty well.

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Resistance, training

I thought I was yoga and pilates girl through and through, until I found high intensity interval training and F45, that is. For the past month I have vented my frustrations and sweated it all out at Australia’s new It-thing, intensive training using bodyweight and weights (and dreadful ropes and chin up bars), alternating exercise sessions of cardio and resistance. I have truly enjoyed the team sparring mentality and post workout high fives, and the exhaustion too.

After the first week of feeling sore and wobbly, I got used to sore muscles, and not going to train just because I’m tired feels way worse than pushing myself through it. Group training comes with a price tree times higher than going to the gym on your own, though. One can either consider it as being an overpriced fad alike to crossfit, or then as an investment to one’s health. I am contemplating if I can afford it or not, though their 9 week challenge commencing next week would give me that extra little push to join. I haven’t noticed any changes in the past month (besides having trouble lifting heavy things the day after), but apparently there is something happening, as my co-worker who I hadn’t seen in a while asked me if I’d been going to crossfit because of “my guns” (her words, not mine). With this amount of push-ups, walking to the gym and shoveling food down my throat, I’d hope to see some results. Oh, and I stopped drinking too. Sorry Tinder, but there are other options than drinks for dates. At least if you meet the right people.

Apparently F45 costs as much as Ashtanga yoga, so I think I’ll skip the sun salutations and opt for solid 45 minutes of sweat and breathlessness. I would definitely be curious to see how long I can do this for, how many Saturday mornings I’d wake up after 6am to have a solid circuit session with a live dj before work. You either dance the night away on Friday at the club, or….