Tuesday, March 18, 2008

Peer Pressure

Shortly after getting home from work today, I headed upstairs to change out of my work clothes into my "rest of the day" clothes. If I have nowhere to go for the rest of the evening, then I change into a pair of sweats and a sweatshirt. Actually, even if I do have somewhere to go, sometimes I still change into a pair of sweats and a sweatshirt, but if that isn't appropriate, then I will put on some jeans and a shirt. This wasn't always my after work routine. I used to be a one outfit a day woman. Whatever I wore to work in the morning (which was usually a pair of dress pants and dress shirt or sweater) was what I wore until I went to bed at night. Not so with my husband. From the first day we were married and he went off to work until this day, the first thing he does when he gets home is go to the bedroom and change from his work clothes into his lounge clothes. Even if we are going somewhere a couple of hours after he gets home, he will still change into his lounge clothes and then will change back when we are ready to leave. When we first got married, I thought this was a ridiculous habit. First of all, it just created more laundry. Second of all, how did he decide how many days in a row he would wear the same lounge clothes? If I wear a shirt all day long, for around twelve hours, then I put it in the laundry. If lounge clothes are only worn 2-3 hours a day, then can they be worn for 4-5 days without laundering? It all gets very confusing. However, the longer we were married, the more I realized that he looked a lot more comfortable than I felt in the evenings. So now I have fallen into his pattern, and if you visit the Wuertley household anytime after 6:00 in the evening, you will find us both in sweats.

This pattern got me thinking today about other habits or "things" that I do solely because I have been around someone else for a long time who do these things and they have sort of rubbed off on me. For example...

Before I was married, I NEVER intentionally ate sour cream, especially on potatoes or tacos. I also never used mayonaise on sandwiches. When we got married, I realized that both of these condiments had to be staples in our household, especially when I witnessed Jason making a ham sandwich with mayonaise lathered on both pieces of bread. I learned to not even offer tacos as a dinner choice if there wasn't sour cream on hand. So now I use mayo on sandwiches, and I even PAY EXTRA for sour cream at La Charreada because I can no longer eat a taco or quesadilla without it.

I had also been camping 0 times before I got married, and never had any desire to do so. Jason, however, grew up camping, so he was somewhat disappointed that I didn't share his enthusiasm for roughing it in the wild. However, he talked me into a pop up in 2002, and now the Wuertleys are camping fools.

And my mother as my witness, I never used sunscreen growing up. Actually, my mother doesn't have to be my witness; the million freckles all over my body prove that statment. Jason, however, will not step out into the sun without lathering in the stuff. After a few vacations of me being miserable and burnt and him being white but free of pain, I crossed over to the world of sunscreen - my kids are thanking me because I let them use it, too.

Snooze button - never, ever used it until I got married. I still technically do not use it because the clock is on Jason's side of the bed, but I do request its use twice each morning.

As I was typing this post, Jason came home from work - and yes, he has changed into his lounge clothes. I told him about what I was posting about, and he wondered if there is anything he does now that he used to not do because of me. I thought and thought, and you know, I couldn't come up with a single thing. Hmmm, what does that say about the two of us?

Sunday, March 16, 2008

The Challenge

The challenge was thrown down late last night. I was talking to Jason about how I was disappointed in my time after running a mile yesterday. He started reliving the glory days and shared with me how in eighth grade he was on the track team and ran the 400 in exactly one minute, six seconds. He then proceeded to boldly proclaim that he was SURE he could now run the mile in less than 8 minutes. He chose 8 minutes as the benchmark for this proclamation because that is always my goal when I run the mile, and I have only done it once this winter.

I told him there was NO WAY he could run the mile in less than eight minutes. Convinced that he could with NO PROBLEM, the challenge was born.

Elizabeth was already going to be playing basketball at the gym at 1:30 today, so we decided that then would be the best time to run the mile. 10 laps around the inside track at the recreation center was all he would have to do...in less than 8 minutes. While no official wager was set for this challenge, he said that if he was able to do this, then he should be able to get an IPhone, no questions asked. I don't think I even stated what I would want should I win the bet, but the satisfaction of him not being able to do it would be enough for me. I'm a very supportive wife, but the thought of my husband being able to get up off the couch with no training and beat my time in the mile after I have been running the last few months was very discouraging.

The excuses started on the way home from church. He said he was going to be too full after eating a big Sunday lunch. Since we had to be at the gym at 1:30, his lunch wasn't going to have a chance to "settle." He said after he ran the mile, he was going to be too sore and would probably have to sit in the recliner the rest of the day. I didn't doubt it, but too bad, the time and place had already been set.

We arrived at the track precisely at 1:30, kitchen timer in hand to time the big event. Sweatpants and sweathirt were stripped off. Our five year old sat by me on the bench, ready to witness this spectacle. There were a few obligatory stretches. Then he went to the starting line. He asked me to call out his time after each lap, and I said I would. And he was off.

He started off at quite a rapid pace. If he could keep this up for 10 laps, he was going to have no problem breaking eight minutes. After one lap I called out "30 seconds." At this rate he was going to run the mile in 5 minutes. The second lap I could tell his pace was slowing a little, but as he finished the second lap, I called out "one minute, five seconds." I was starting to get a little nervous. Maybe he would be able to do it. But then about 1/4 lap into the third lap, he stopped suddenly, turned around with a smile, and said, "There's no way."

Ahh, I guess there is some benefit to training. Curious to see how well I could run since I was now so inspired, I had Jason set the timer to 8 minutes and I decided to see if I could beat the challenge. Wanting to impress my five year old and my husband, I did run pretty good, but after 9 laps I was at 7 minutes, 25 seconds, and I knew there was no way I could run the last lap in 35 seconds. Oh well, at least I didn't bet an Iphone on it.

Friday, March 14, 2008

This One's For You, Keetha

When I was a senior in high school, my curfew was midnight. I remember rushing home some nights, trying to make it under the wire. Then I would sometimes get on the phone after that.

In college, curfew (in the dorms) was 1:00 on Saturday nights and 2:00 on Friday nights. I remember midnight basketball games at Center School, 1:00 a.m. Taco Bell Runs, late night pacman games at the Cafe 37, and one night I remember making it from the Ball State campus to our dorm in 27 minutes to make curfew.

Now I can barely keep my eyes open at 11:00 to type this post. Last Friday night I was in bed asleep by 10:30.

When I was in college, sleeping in meant noon or after. I think I slept 50% of winter and spring break.

Now sleeping in is 9:00, and if I sleep too much past that I either have a headache or hip pains.

The weekends just aren't what they used to be.