Does anyone know how to use a Stair Master?

When we first moved to Colorado Springs, some very nice people from church gave us a free six-month membership to a gym that's right across the street from the church (and, awesomely, about five minutes from our house). This gift was sort of bittersweet for me because, truth be told, I really only like the idea of working out regularly. And it was really convenient when we lived in Lawrenceburg and didn't have a gym within reasonable driving distance, and I could just pretend that I was so disappointed that I couldn't actually do anything about my idea of working out regularly. Then this very generous gift appeared, and now I feel guilty for doing the same amount of working out I used to do (read: none).

Within the first two months of living here, I went to the gym twice. Maybe three times. Let's say it was three times. I was definitely getting my money's worth (free membership = no money-related guilt about being lazy!), but I wasn't exactly helping myself get back into running shape. Sidenote: Moving to high altitude is a great excuse for being a crappy runner. You can totally tell yourself you were in good shape at reasonable altitudes, and your body just hasn't adjusted to this 6800-feet-in-the-air nonsense.

Then my lovely cousin (hi, Whitney!) got engaged (!) and asked me to be a bridesmaid for her wedding at the end of May, and now I have a teensy-weensy bit of motivation to get a little fitter. Specifically, I've decided that I want to get my arms lookin' all pretty for Whitney's big day. Because we all know that's what everyone else is going to be looking at, right? And I am currently rocking the teacher flab in the tricep region.

The only problem is that I am not really adept enough with gym machinery to achieve this goal. There are two or three machines that I recognize from my previous life of semi-intensity when I semi-frequented the Vanderbilt Rec Center, so I use those machines, and there have been a few times when I've stood next to other machines and tried to figure them out (while also trying not to look like an idiot) to no avail. Apparently I'm not willing to sacrifice my dignity in front of total strangers for the sake of arm fitness.

Yesterday, I did my typical routine of using the machines I know and love, then hovering around the other arm machines, trying to convince myself that no one else would notice if it took me a minute to figure the machine out, failing to convince myself, then finally giving up and going over to the treadmill.

But yesterday - yesterday! - I decided that if I couldn't be brave with the arm machines, I would at least use a different cardio machine. For some reason, I selected the Stair Master. A decision that I now wholeheartedly regret because it seems I don't actually know how to use a Stair Master. I've seen them used before, and they seem pretty self-explanatory, but I could not make those stupid stair pedals do what I think they're supposed to do. I thought you were supposed to simulate the actual act of climbing stairs, but my Stair Master experience felt more like climbing stairs in a bad dream with a bad guy chasing me. You know those dreams where your legs feel too heavy, and you can't seem to make yourself go? I was climbing those suckers reallllly slowly.

And perhaps you've seen enough Stair Masters to know that you're about three feet in the air when you use one. The perfect height to be inconspicuous when you don't want to make a fool of yourself using new equipment in a crowded gym. What fun.

Needless to say, I will not be experimenting at Fitness 19 anymore. I will stick to the treadmill and my few trusty arm machines and hope that's good enough. And I would greatly appreciate it if you would share an embarrassing gym story to make me feel cooler.

Pictures and Explanations

In honor of our closing on Friday, here are some badly-taken pictures of our house. I don't have photography skills or a very good camera, so you'll just have to take what you can get here.

This is most of the front of the house. With some snow.

This is sort of what you see when you walk in the front door. You're standing in a living room, which looks like...

this. As seen from the loft/landing you could see in the previous picture. That room is the office, which looks like...

this. This, of course, is the second level of the house, where our bedroom and a couple of other bedrooms (one is currently the "box room," and the other is YOUR ROOM!) are located.

And because I told my mom I would send a picture of our new-to-us dining table...

here it is, all Thanksgivinged up. Note the Norman Rockwell turkey (purchased fully-cooked at Honeybaked Ham because I don't so much love raw meat) and my father-in-law about to rip into it with great zeal. The people to the left of Daniel are some new friends from church.

Around the corner from the dining room is the kitchen -- sorry, I don't have any pictures of that one yet. It looks like a kitchen. And then there's a family room, which looks a little something like...

this. Except there are couches that you can't see here because, again, I am a bad photographer. And that's Daniel playing Guitar Hero.

Then downstairs there's a basement with another bedroom/bathroom (YOUR ROOM??) and, the real crowd-pleaser, the ping-pong room.

I think that covers it. I know this photographic tour makes it all sort of hard to picture, but you know what? There's an easy solution to that. And I think I've already dropped enough hints that you can figure out what I mean.

Now to explain my cryptic reference to my second job (which, by the way, ended today! Woot, woot!). I worked at a doll store called Mollycoddles, and here's the schpiel I gave new customers: "Mollycoddles is a newborn nursery for baby dolls. When a little girl comes in and finds a doll that she loves and wants to take home, we take her through an adoption process. She gives the baby its first bath, weighs and measures the baby, we give the baby a birth certificate, and the baby and 'mommy' get matching hospital bracelets [please excuse the lack of parallel structure there]. Then she can bring the baby back in for free checkups, and she can borrow our strollers to stroll the baby through the mall!"

Does that help you picture it all a little better? The store is supposed to feel like a real newborn nursery, so I was supposed to act like a real nurse. That sounds a little creepy, but it really wasn't.

And here's a freebie for you: Last night I applied to be a student at Pike's Peak Community College so I can take a hip-hop dance class next semester with two girls from our college group at church. For reals.

In conclusion, the Wigintons wish you a merry Christmas. Especially Justin.

This is old news by now

to anyone who would be reading this blog, but we now live in Colorado Springs. Colorado Springs, Colorado. Not some other Colorado Springs.

The abbreviated version of the story (more details are available upon request) is that Daniel and I were happy in Kentucky, loved our church, felt like our ministry there was stronger than ever, etc. -- but also felt like we needed to be somewhere else. So we started looking. We had a few plans in mind, but God made it abundantly clear that He had a different plan. And now here we are in Colorado Springs, where Daniel is the Singles/College minister at Vista Grande Baptist Church.

And I'm not exaggerating when I say that this place is totally the bomb. I love living here, despite the fact that the temperature right now is negative five degrees. NEGATIVE FIVE, with a "feels like" temperature of NEGATIVE EIGHTEEN. And did you know that it snows here? Kind of a lot? That part is pretty cool, and it's easy to overlook the fact that your extremities are frostbitten when you have sweet views of Pike's Peak from everywhere in town.

When we moved at the beginning of November, we hadn't sold our house and didn't expect to sell it any time soon. But you know how I mentioned God's making it abundantly clear that we should be here? Exhibit A: With only a day or two to look for houses before we moved, we found a place that is perfect for us, and the owner agreed to let us rent until our house sold. Exhibit B: Our house sold a few weeks later! If you watch the news at all, you know that is kind of a big deal. We closed last Wednesday, and we will close Friday on the aforementioned house here. Yay!

I'll post pictures when I'm not blogging from work.

And speaking of work -- I have a job. I work at Glen Eyrie, which is a conference/retreat center owned by the Navigators. The main attraction out here is a castle that was built by General
William Jackson Palmer, founder of Colorado Springs. And you can stay there if you come visit us. Hint, hint. I book reservations here (from what used to be Gen. Palmer's carriage house), which basically means I answer the phone all day. And for some reason that I don't quite understand, I really enjoy it.

I also have another job, in which I dress like a nurse and pretend to provide pediatric care to baby dolls. That part is pretty entertaining. But this job also requires that I sometimes stand at a kiosk at the "ghetto mall" (wearing pastel purple scrubs) for hours at a time, often engaging in polite conversation with people who should probably only be allowed in public under special guardianship. I'm making it sound worse than it is, but I won't be heartbroken when I'm through with this job at the end of the week.

And now I can't think of anything else with which to update you. Feel free to comment if I didn't address your specific question. And feel free to leave a comment telling me when you're going to come visit us! COME VISIT US!

Where, oh where, has my depth perception gone?

This morning, I hit myself in the jaw with the laundry room door. I got ahead of myself and pushed the door closed before my head was out of the way. Who does that?? I would blame the cold medicine I took this morning, but I DID THE SAME THING YESTERDAY. Except yesterday I hit myself in the nose and forehead. My whole face hurts today (don't even say it, Dad -- I know what you're thinking). Do you think this is a symptom of a bigger problem? Like, maybe an extreme case of idiocy?

Add this to the list of things I don't do well.

This morning I went to Kroger with a list of six items. Each of these items cost less than $4, but somehow I still managed to buy $70 worth of groceries. This is getting way out of hand. What will become of our family when I have to buy groceries for more than two people?!

Should I be concerned?

I just got home from work and sat down at the computer (always first on the agenda)... and this Disney princesses website was up. Keep in mind that the computer-using inhabitants of my house are 1) Micah, who has been at work all morning, and 2) Daniel. Do you think I need to stage some sort of intervention?

Nevermind

Soooo... remember how I said I was organizing my thoughts and preparing to post about something serious? Let's just pretend that never happened, okay? Because I thought about that whole serious post for long enough that I resolved it in my head, thus eliminating the need (for me, anyway) to write the post at all.

Instead, I want to tell you two things. One is mildly entertaining; the other is nothing short of earth-shattering. Let's begin.

#1. This afternoon, my dear husband asked me to go on a walk with him. As usual, we wove (weaved? too lazy to check on that one) through the streets of our subdivision. Because we just love to walk past dozens of houses that look exactly like ours. Except with better landscaping. So we were about halfway through our walk when a school bus drove up behind us and dropped a kid off at his house. Then as the bus drove past us, we looked in one of the windows -- AND WE WERE BULLIED BY A LITTLE KID!

For real. This kid was probably in second or third grade, and he was scowling at us and making a fist. Like this, except with only one fist:

This scenario was enormously amusing to me, though it would probably be less amusing if I were his mother. Or his teacher. Or in second or third grade.

#2. I love breakfast cereal. [Why did I just specify the breakfast part? Is there any other kind of cereal I would be talking about? Do I think you would be confused and assume that I was professing my love for that rice cereal stuff that babies eat?] I thought for several years that the ultimate cereal was Kellogg's Cracklin' Oat Bran. Despite its unappealing name and cat-food-like appearance, this stuff is the bomb.

Cracklin' Oat Bran is oh so very tasty and nutritious (I think?), which is almost all I can ask for in a cereal, breakfast or otherwise. But COB (I almost gave it the nickname "The Crack" but thought better of it) has one tragically tragic flaw: it is very, very expensive.

So imagine my delight when I recently encountered a cereal that satisfies my desire for deliciousness, vitamin and mineral fortifiedness, AND price reasonableness! BEHOLD:

Total Cinnamon Crunch. It tastes like Cinnamon Toast Crunch, but it has 100%'s by all the good stuff on the nutrition label. Go buy yourself a box right now. It's so good that you might even forgive me for this ridiculously lame post.