so many times, it happens too fast

Um... where did that long weekend go, exactly?

Anyone who pays attention to these ramblings at all knows that I was out of commission on Saturday night, due to the unfortunate table-turning episode, also known as what the heck happened to Tom Brady. I was laughing at everyone that was either on a high or a low due to the Rose Bowl earlier this month, but there I was on Saturday night, eating three or four big helpings of humble pie. Even though I am a fan, I am not a fanatic. I knew, logically, that the Patriots were not going to win the Superbowl this year. Their play has been spotty this year. Yet on Saturday, I still felt suckerpunched by how truly humiliating their performance was. I suppose I was just expecting them to choke at the AFC championships. Either way, it's all over now baby blue. Before anyone feels any sympathy for me, it should be noted that I was mostly over the whole thing on Sunday, once the Steelers silenced the Colts. I think I would be much more depressed right now if there was a chance I was going to have to see Peyton Manning's mug at the Superbowl. For being delighted about another team's demise, I think I negate any condolescences that might have been on their way. So it is with football and b*tchy bloggers.

Can someone explain to me why, even though the machines claim I have expended the same number of calories, I feel so much more like I have exercised when I am running on the treadmill versus flailing about on the elliptical machine? And by the way, I am starting to feel like the Bay Area may have turned me into the Imelda Marcos of athletic footwear. I just bought new running shoes that have reinstated my proper place on the treadmill. I also swooned over these shoes acquired on Monday:

These are replacement shoes. I had a similar pair that were nearing their end because I would not stop wearing them. They were first put to the test in Peru, and served me so well that I could not bring myself to stop putting them on whenever I left the house. When I got the new ones yesterday, I sat down, took stock, and hyperventilated a little. Technically, I only have a few pair of shoes, if you define shoes as things you wear to work or social functions. But then we get to the athletic footwear, and it goes from modest to stupid pretty quickly:

• Tevas pictured above, which I use as my casual walking shoes, even though they are technically supposed to be water shoes. Whatevs!
  
• Saucony running shoes, recently purchased, causing me to brave the torture device treadmill again.
  
• Merrell low cut hiking boots, currently covered in mud from a post-rain mild hike.
  
• Salomon hard core hiking boots, which, to date, represent the most I have ever paid for any pair of shoes. And, they were worth. every. last. penny. These suckers saved my ankles and quite possibly my life in Peru.
  
• Specialized mountain biking shoes. I really have no idea why I still have these. I haven't been on a real mountain biking trail for over three years.
  
• Acorn polar scuffs- technically, I suppose this is not truly athletic footwear, but oh, are they ever warm. And they have treated me well on camping trips.

The scary part is that I still want more tennis shoes. The even scarier part is that I am not nearly as athletic as the outlined inventory would suggest. I have become that which I despise! I used to make fun of posers who bought all this different gear for their different hobbies, hobbies they only dabbled in as mere passers-by rather than as full-fledged aficianados. Now I see that I am a hypocrite. And I still want more shoes.

In other news, I had a fight with maple syrup this weekend. It's still not clear who won. What was supposed to be icing turned out a little more like taffy. I absolutely adore things with a maple slant to it, but all things maple are nevertheless quickly becoming my arch nemesis. I refuse to admit defeat, but the odds do not seem in my favor. This makes me sad.

On the other hand, you know it's going to be a good day when you hear Eye of the Tiger on your way to work in the morning. And when someone cool is celebrating their birthday. Good on ya, maisnon!