Of Finance, Fitness and Flies...

Been here at San Pedrito Beach for over two months now and have been thoroughly lulled into a lazy routine. I had such ambitious plans for this period of the winter. I figured I’d be bored with endless days in the sun and could direct energy to contemplating the next phase of my “career”. Would I finally start writing (or rather, finishing) that novel I’ve always talked about? Would I decide to actively pursue something in fashion or design? Would I do a business plan for my own consulting company? 

Nada! I’ve spent all of twenty minutes thinking about these things. Guess I’m just not ready and must accept it will come when it comes. Or I’m financially forced too. 

At least I’ve harnessed the motivation to get back into fitness over the past month. After weeks of gorging on delicious tacos and cerveza with only the occasional beach walk as exercise, I had to face facts that my waist had almost disappeared. That’s the wake-up for me! I created a strength routine using body weight, heavy rocks from the beach and the elastic bands we brought, wrote it down above the door of the trailer and signed it, and told Andrew and other friends on the beach they had hold me accountable to doing it each morning. 

I can already notice the difference and actually now look forward to it. I find fitness has its own inertia - once it wanes, it really drops, and conversely once it gets going, it picks up steam. Feeling strong then encourages me to go for more walks and runs, helps me choose salad over fries, and say “no” to that extra bloating Pacifico. 

The only problem with my morning work-outs occur when there is no wind. I don’t recall sand flies being a problem on this beach before, but egad, even dousing myself with Deet doesn’t seem to help when they’re in the nipping mood. My lower legs have never been more covered with maddeningly itchy spots. 

As I write, they are in all stages of blossoming and healing. New bites just showing as pink bumps, scabs that are covered or uncovered for the umpteenth time from scratching, and purple hyperpigmentation spots from previous scabs. Andrew says, and I have to agree, I look like a meth addict from the knees down. Of course, the gnats don’t seem to bother him....guess I must be tastier!