Blessed Good Friday! Technically I took it off work as a vacation day. Usually I take off Holy Thursday, too, but a donor was coming through town and wanted to give me a large check for my org, so I made the sacrifice!
Still, a few things needed to get moved along today, so I planned to go in for a bit. Then I remembered my dog, Roxy, needed her allergy shot, so decided to kill two birds with one stone and combine the errands. Then I realized it is a gorgeous day outside, I decided to do all this by walking.
Roxy was game because she loves walks. So, I packed up water and a few treats and a toy for her to munch on while we were at the office, and off we went!
It's about 3 miles to my office, and we enjoyed the pretty weather. A couple people yelled hello as they drove past -both of them friends who texted me later to let me know who they were, because I had no idea who was calling out to us! We greeted everyone we passed, including a grim looking homeless man who burst into a big surprised smile when we wished him a good morning.
When you walk, you have a chance to really see things. You have nothing between you and the world.
Everyone fussed over Roxy at the office, which she loves, and once I was done we walked over to her vet's office, then Petsmart to get more treats for Roxy, and then home. We didn't linger too long at Petsmart because I was running late to get to Stations of the Cross at noon.
As I drove to my church on the other side of town, throwing down a protein bar for lunch, I said a quick prayer of thanks for my car. It's not at all glamorous but it gets me where I want to go. Having driven many a clunker in my time, reliable transportation is not something I take for granted.
But walking about Flagstaff made me even more grateful... just getting to church would be extremely difficult without a car. Our bus system is not easily accessible from my neighborhood, and instead of taking 15 minutes to get to church, it would take about an hour, not counting the time to hike up Holy Hill (one of the names given to the steep climb up to the top of the mesa where the church is located!)
The Stations were done in a way I had never seen before. Instead of a reflection on Jesus's actual experience, we prayed with photos of people afflicted by poverty, illness, homelessness and starvation -Christ in the poor. It was intensely moving, and not just because my toes went numb from kneeling. The deacon leading the prayer took a lot of time between Stations, to give us all a chance to really SEE the people in the photos. My stomach was growling and all I could think was, I am CHOOSING to not eat much on Good Friday, and that woman has nothing at all to feed her dying child.
I have no problems at all and suffer nothing.
As a humorous aside: As I walked out to my car the woman who had been praying next to me asked me, "How long has this fellowship been here?" "Yay!" I thought to myself. "A nonCatholic came to pray with us!" (Trust me, no Catholic would ever use the word "fellowship" to describe a parish!) I smiled and said, "This church was just built. Where do you usually go?" and we had a really nice conversation in the parking lot. Her name is Linda.
Good Friday is a quiet day anyway, and I have been given much food for thought.
Friday, March 29, 2013
Tuesday, March 26, 2013
Exhaling Slowly
My 9-months-long plateau has finally broken with my first solid weight loss recorded this month. I don't care as much as I should, probably. I'm really more excited about two things: First, that my back is up to the challenge of the weight I'm picking up and putting down during training; Second, that my blood work came back and I'm perfect.
If only more people realized that!
Had my visit with the asthma doc and he is pleased that everything seems fine. My asthma is controlled. It is at its level best. The fact I am frustrated with being subject to the whims of air quality is not his concern. There is apparently no medication in existence that will counter the effects of altitude + pollution. Welcome to life.
My friend Grace took this picture of Heide and me when we were walking back form Devil's Bridge Trail on Sunday. I think it is just lovely.
It was a good air day... not because the air quality was all that hot, but because I was with friends, doing something beautiful, and had lots of room to just breathe.
If only more people realized that!
Had my visit with the asthma doc and he is pleased that everything seems fine. My asthma is controlled. It is at its level best. The fact I am frustrated with being subject to the whims of air quality is not his concern. There is apparently no medication in existence that will counter the effects of altitude + pollution. Welcome to life.
My friend Grace took this picture of Heide and me when we were walking back form Devil's Bridge Trail on Sunday. I think it is just lovely.
It was a good air day... not because the air quality was all that hot, but because I was with friends, doing something beautiful, and had lots of room to just breathe.
Monday, March 25, 2013
Devil's Bridge and Happiness
I've been wanting to hike the Devil's Bridge trail in Sedona for a few weeks now, ever since I saw a pic of someone walking across it. I finally found two other people who also wanted to take that hike and off we set for it on Sunday morning.
Absolutely beautiful day for a hike -sun shining, stunning blue sky, red rocks soaring overhead. The sage is starting to bloom and everything is greening up from the winter. Heide remembered sunscreen and I remembered water for us all. We all wore hiking shoes.
From Dry Creek Road to the trailhead is about 1-1/2 miles along a hilly forest road with lovely western views. The first part of the trailhead is an easy uphill slope.
Then you get closer and it gets steeper... then you get to the bottom of the Devil's Bridge, and it is basically straight up... straight up as in using both hands for balance around some very tight curves with really straight drops.
Heide looked at me and said, "Okay, this is real, are we gonna do this?" Nothing was going to stop me at that point. We were almost there!
I was carrying my water bottle and Heide offered to put it in her backpack. Both hands really were necessary on some parts!
We got to the top. The trail goes higher than the bridge itself, and from that angle, it seemed very, very narrow, and very very high. Still, I was going to try to walk across it. I'm not afraid of heights, but my balance is terrible -I'm insecure on rocky ground. Heide stayed on the entrance side, and Grace and I headed over to the bridge.
Once we were there, it was a lot wider than it looked, and we easily marched on out and posed for pics. Heide edged over to the beginning of the bridge and we sat there and chatted a bit, drinking water and enjoying the really amazing view.
As we sat there, Heide poked my arm and said, "WHAT are those guys doing?? That is straight down!!" pointing to some guys across the way, climbing their way down the red rocks. I looked at her, "Heide, that's what we just came up!" Her eyes got really big. "I'm glad I hadn't seen that before we took the trail!" and we both burst into laughter.
The way down of COURSE seemed shorter than the way up, even though a few parts we sat down and scooted down the rocks instead of trying to balance on them, We skipped on back to the car, greeting people, answering questions, and once advising some ladies arriving at the road entrance that perhaps flip flops weren't the best thing to be wearing on this particular hike. They also didn't have water with them. (These are the people who end up getting rescued!)
We were proud and starving by the time we got to the Barking Frog to celebrate over guacamole and several pitchers of water. This was one of the most amazing hikes I've ever done, and even though it was only five miles round trip, seemed like a world away from normal life.
Absolutely beautiful day for a hike -sun shining, stunning blue sky, red rocks soaring overhead. The sage is starting to bloom and everything is greening up from the winter. Heide remembered sunscreen and I remembered water for us all. We all wore hiking shoes.
From Dry Creek Road to the trailhead is about 1-1/2 miles along a hilly forest road with lovely western views. The first part of the trailhead is an easy uphill slope.
Then you get closer and it gets steeper... then you get to the bottom of the Devil's Bridge, and it is basically straight up... straight up as in using both hands for balance around some very tight curves with really straight drops.
Heide looked at me and said, "Okay, this is real, are we gonna do this?" Nothing was going to stop me at that point. We were almost there!
I was carrying my water bottle and Heide offered to put it in her backpack. Both hands really were necessary on some parts!
We got to the top. The trail goes higher than the bridge itself, and from that angle, it seemed very, very narrow, and very very high. Still, I was going to try to walk across it. I'm not afraid of heights, but my balance is terrible -I'm insecure on rocky ground. Heide stayed on the entrance side, and Grace and I headed over to the bridge.
Once we were there, it was a lot wider than it looked, and we easily marched on out and posed for pics. Heide edged over to the beginning of the bridge and we sat there and chatted a bit, drinking water and enjoying the really amazing view.
As we sat there, Heide poked my arm and said, "WHAT are those guys doing?? That is straight down!!" pointing to some guys across the way, climbing their way down the red rocks. I looked at her, "Heide, that's what we just came up!" Her eyes got really big. "I'm glad I hadn't seen that before we took the trail!" and we both burst into laughter.
The way down of COURSE seemed shorter than the way up, even though a few parts we sat down and scooted down the rocks instead of trying to balance on them, We skipped on back to the car, greeting people, answering questions, and once advising some ladies arriving at the road entrance that perhaps flip flops weren't the best thing to be wearing on this particular hike. They also didn't have water with them. (These are the people who end up getting rescued!)
We were proud and starving by the time we got to the Barking Frog to celebrate over guacamole and several pitchers of water. This was one of the most amazing hikes I've ever done, and even though it was only five miles round trip, seemed like a world away from normal life.
Sunday, March 24, 2013
Besting Buffalo Park
So, yesterday the plan was to go running with dear Grace at Buffalo Park. 2 loops around the trail is 4 miles, so that was my plan. Gracie is training for a half-marathon, so she intended to do 3 loops.
It was cold and really windy, but I had my trusty inhaler, and Roxy was chomping to get going. She hasn't been on a run since the first snowfall. She forgets she is little and skinny and freezes quickly so she has been impatient to get outside. Grace was happy to have a beautiful trail to run on.
When we arrived, it was hazy and dusty, and during the warm up walk, my chest was starting to ache, so no running for me. I decided to not create angst over it and just glory in the really pretty sky and snow-capped peaks as Grace leapt ahead like a gazelle.
If you go right on the trail, at the end you get a really steep hill. If you go left, you start by going down the really steep hill, and going up a longer, more gradual slope.
I had decided to go right, and when I finished that loop, I'd turn around and go left.
The wind was horrible, cold and unrelenting. My hands were tucked in my pockets and my hood tight around my face. I tried to not remind myself I'd be warmer if I ran because that just made me mad.
As I walked up the really steep hill, I thought, "You know, I don't really have to turn around and do this again. This sucks. Why am I here? This is stupid. I can wait in the car for Grace."
Well, Roxy wasn't ready to stop, and I really didn't feel like playing on my phone in the car until Grace was done, so we turned around and went the other direction.
As we started walking up the milder slope, I had a flashback to about 4 years ago when I first moved to Flagstaff. My friend Steve from Casa Grande had come to visit and we decided to check out Buffalo Park for a place to go walking. That was the first time I'd been there, and we took the left entrance just because there were fewer people doing it.
I actually haven't taken the left entrance since then. The trail looks different in the other direction. I had completely forgotten about that first walk in Buffalo Park until the scenery brought me back.
The very first time I walked this trail, I had to stop three times to rest before hitting the top. We didn't even walk the whole two miles because I was dying.
And here I was, mentally grousing because I couldn't run 4 miles because of my asthma.
Wow.
The rest of the walk seemed quite cheerful, actually.
It was cold and really windy, but I had my trusty inhaler, and Roxy was chomping to get going. She hasn't been on a run since the first snowfall. She forgets she is little and skinny and freezes quickly so she has been impatient to get outside. Grace was happy to have a beautiful trail to run on.
When we arrived, it was hazy and dusty, and during the warm up walk, my chest was starting to ache, so no running for me. I decided to not create angst over it and just glory in the really pretty sky and snow-capped peaks as Grace leapt ahead like a gazelle.
If you go right on the trail, at the end you get a really steep hill. If you go left, you start by going down the really steep hill, and going up a longer, more gradual slope.
I had decided to go right, and when I finished that loop, I'd turn around and go left.
The wind was horrible, cold and unrelenting. My hands were tucked in my pockets and my hood tight around my face. I tried to not remind myself I'd be warmer if I ran because that just made me mad.
As I walked up the really steep hill, I thought, "You know, I don't really have to turn around and do this again. This sucks. Why am I here? This is stupid. I can wait in the car for Grace."
Well, Roxy wasn't ready to stop, and I really didn't feel like playing on my phone in the car until Grace was done, so we turned around and went the other direction.
As we started walking up the milder slope, I had a flashback to about 4 years ago when I first moved to Flagstaff. My friend Steve from Casa Grande had come to visit and we decided to check out Buffalo Park for a place to go walking. That was the first time I'd been there, and we took the left entrance just because there were fewer people doing it.
I actually haven't taken the left entrance since then. The trail looks different in the other direction. I had completely forgotten about that first walk in Buffalo Park until the scenery brought me back.
The very first time I walked this trail, I had to stop three times to rest before hitting the top. We didn't even walk the whole two miles because I was dying.
And here I was, mentally grousing because I couldn't run 4 miles because of my asthma.
Wow.
The rest of the walk seemed quite cheerful, actually.
Saturday, March 23, 2013
Recurring Nightmare Turned Around
Okay, I have a couple recurring nightmares. I haven't had either of them in a long time, until last night. Only it was different.
So, normally, I'm in a house with three stories and a basement, and it is very dark and old and dilapidated. I live there, and in a few rooms lives this sort of creature, sort of like Golem from LOTR. He also lives in the walls and does scary creepy things. I can go into different rooms, but I can't leave the house, which is on a dark stormy island anyway. I usually wake up when something particularly horrible happens.
Last night, in the dream, I didn't live there any more, but I was returning to the house with a friend, and it had been made into a bed and breakfast, and there were a lot of people staying there. My friend who was with me and I weren't sure if we were going to stay, but I wanted to go in and see all the changes the new owners had done with the renovations.
The inside was gorgeous, all the old marble and windows and finishings cleaned up, floors replaced, everything fresh and new. As we wandered through, I told some people about the creature and how he lived in certain rooms and in the walls. They wanted to see him, too, so we walked all over the house and all the old secret doors had been removed and the passages were gone. I told them all about the house, and they asked if the new owners bought it from me. I said, no, I just left it. They took over a lot later.
We ended up in the attic, which was now quite lovely with all sorts of girly appointments and floral wallpaper, old fashioned but quite pretty. The owners came up and asked what we were doing, and I said we were looking for the creature. They said they had never seen him. I was a bit confused because, really, I KNEW the creature had lived in the walls and would never, ever go away. My friend wanted to spend the night, but I knew if we did, he would sneak up on us while we were sleeping.
Then someone else said, "oh, he moved away, he couldn't find anything to eat once we started cleaning up the place. If you want to see him, we just have to lay the food out and he'll come back." So in the dream I said, "it is too strange that he isn't here. I want to see him." So they start to gather food and then one turns to me and says, "you know, even if he comes back, he won't stay unless you keep feeding him. Do you really want to see him?"
So, I thought about that, and decided that I didn't really need to see him. Then there was this bubble in the middle of the room, and the creature was in the bubble, and looked completely different, not scary at all, and said, "fine, I'll go away for always." and thenjust left.
My friend and I decided to not spend the night because it wasn't my house any more, and the ship was waiting at the dock for us anyway. So we left. And I woke up.
That was pretty cool.
So, normally, I'm in a house with three stories and a basement, and it is very dark and old and dilapidated. I live there, and in a few rooms lives this sort of creature, sort of like Golem from LOTR. He also lives in the walls and does scary creepy things. I can go into different rooms, but I can't leave the house, which is on a dark stormy island anyway. I usually wake up when something particularly horrible happens.
Last night, in the dream, I didn't live there any more, but I was returning to the house with a friend, and it had been made into a bed and breakfast, and there were a lot of people staying there. My friend who was with me and I weren't sure if we were going to stay, but I wanted to go in and see all the changes the new owners had done with the renovations.
The inside was gorgeous, all the old marble and windows and finishings cleaned up, floors replaced, everything fresh and new. As we wandered through, I told some people about the creature and how he lived in certain rooms and in the walls. They wanted to see him, too, so we walked all over the house and all the old secret doors had been removed and the passages were gone. I told them all about the house, and they asked if the new owners bought it from me. I said, no, I just left it. They took over a lot later.
We ended up in the attic, which was now quite lovely with all sorts of girly appointments and floral wallpaper, old fashioned but quite pretty. The owners came up and asked what we were doing, and I said we were looking for the creature. They said they had never seen him. I was a bit confused because, really, I KNEW the creature had lived in the walls and would never, ever go away. My friend wanted to spend the night, but I knew if we did, he would sneak up on us while we were sleeping.
Then someone else said, "oh, he moved away, he couldn't find anything to eat once we started cleaning up the place. If you want to see him, we just have to lay the food out and he'll come back." So in the dream I said, "it is too strange that he isn't here. I want to see him." So they start to gather food and then one turns to me and says, "you know, even if he comes back, he won't stay unless you keep feeding him. Do you really want to see him?"
So, I thought about that, and decided that I didn't really need to see him. Then there was this bubble in the middle of the room, and the creature was in the bubble, and looked completely different, not scary at all, and said, "fine, I'll go away for always." and thenjust left.
My friend and I decided to not spend the night because it wasn't my house any more, and the ship was waiting at the dock for us anyway. So we left. And I woke up.
That was pretty cool.
Friday, March 22, 2013
Inside Track on Men
You would think, with all the brothers I had wandering about, that I would have an inside track on men. I don't.
I do know a few things from observation of my brothers with their wives/significant others and my own dating experiences:
1. If a guy is into you, you don't have to wonder. He calls, texts, books the next date. The exception to this is when you are sending off signals you aren't into him, then he gives up, respecting your boundaries and also not wanting to get completely shot down.
2. Men are somewhat less complex than women... you feed them and act affectionately, for the most part, they are pretty content. This ought not be mistaken for men not having feelings, they just process them differently.
3. Men sometimes approach the first few dates like a job interview: Answer questions, look presentable, appear capable and a great addition to the team. May not ask very many questions -it doesn't mean he isn't interested in you, it just means he is still competing.
4. Women worry about how they look all the time, esp without clothes on ... for the most part, the guy is just happy he is in a room with a naked lady. Worry is for naught.
That is all I know.
Really, I am terrible at dating. TERRIBLE. I'm all good at the conversation part and being presentable in public part. I'm awesome company for the first three dates. I'm genuinely interested in getting to know anyone I am spending time with. I'm fun. But, if I think a guy is attractive, I dissolve into giggles when he smiles at me and have to fight the urge to punch his arm and run away. Yes, part of me is about 12 years old. And I never know if I'm supposed to help pay or not.
I read an article yesterday about how some women put up these subtle barriers to intimacy, and so when they look at their dating history, they seem to attract horrible men. The author's premise was that such women were actually attracting nice guys as well, but were likely missing the signals that nice guys were sending, and that since they weren't responding, the nice guys backed off, respecting their boundaries, while the horrible guys didn't respect those boundaries, and so pushed through. I found that a fascinating theory that could bear some examination. Later.
Right now, I'm puzzling out the guy I went to dinner with last night who graciously offered me all the olives on the salad (even though he likes them and there were only three!) just to be nice, but didn't hold my hand in the car (when he has, ahem, held my hand before.)
So, I'm wondering, maybe HE isn't the puzzlement... I am?
I do know a few things from observation of my brothers with their wives/significant others and my own dating experiences:
1. If a guy is into you, you don't have to wonder. He calls, texts, books the next date. The exception to this is when you are sending off signals you aren't into him, then he gives up, respecting your boundaries and also not wanting to get completely shot down.
2. Men are somewhat less complex than women... you feed them and act affectionately, for the most part, they are pretty content. This ought not be mistaken for men not having feelings, they just process them differently.
3. Men sometimes approach the first few dates like a job interview: Answer questions, look presentable, appear capable and a great addition to the team. May not ask very many questions -it doesn't mean he isn't interested in you, it just means he is still competing.
4. Women worry about how they look all the time, esp without clothes on ... for the most part, the guy is just happy he is in a room with a naked lady. Worry is for naught.
That is all I know.
Really, I am terrible at dating. TERRIBLE. I'm all good at the conversation part and being presentable in public part. I'm awesome company for the first three dates. I'm genuinely interested in getting to know anyone I am spending time with. I'm fun. But, if I think a guy is attractive, I dissolve into giggles when he smiles at me and have to fight the urge to punch his arm and run away. Yes, part of me is about 12 years old. And I never know if I'm supposed to help pay or not.
I read an article yesterday about how some women put up these subtle barriers to intimacy, and so when they look at their dating history, they seem to attract horrible men. The author's premise was that such women were actually attracting nice guys as well, but were likely missing the signals that nice guys were sending, and that since they weren't responding, the nice guys backed off, respecting their boundaries, while the horrible guys didn't respect those boundaries, and so pushed through. I found that a fascinating theory that could bear some examination. Later.
Right now, I'm puzzling out the guy I went to dinner with last night who graciously offered me all the olives on the salad (even though he likes them and there were only three!) just to be nice, but didn't hold my hand in the car (when he has, ahem, held my hand before.)
So, I'm wondering, maybe HE isn't the puzzlement... I am?
Thursday, March 21, 2013
My Own Effin Boot Camp
Caving to pressure from a couple friends, I decided that yes, today I would wake up at an unGodly hour to go to a 6AM boot camp class at my gym. I normally shudder past it around 6:30, wincing at the yelling and loud horrible music on my way to the treadmill or weight room.
Not today! Set my alarm extra early, pre-packed for the next day, went to bed extra early... when I arrived this morning, discovered it was cancelled when only four people showed up, none of whom were the instructor.
I scowled. Fumed, even. "NOW I have to figure out what to do on my own!!" Grrr. I'd had some coffee but it obviously hadn't made it all the way through my system yet.
"Fine! I'll go to the weight room." I stalked on up.
I tend to avoid the weight room in the very early morning because there is an older man there who always glares at me like I'm personally offending him by existing. I made a point this morning to smile at him as big and genuinely as possible, to which he responded by giving me a look of disgust and turning away. I didn't care because my gym crush ALSO happened to be there, and he did smile at me with that adorable crinkle-eyed smile, and so all was right with the world. I had my ipod with me so I could tune out the music which always seems to sound like someone going through electroshock therapy. I could ignore that my gym crush was about to see my ugly weightlifting face.
I spent a couple minutes thinking about what I wanted to do, and I won't bore you with the particulars... just to say, I CRUSHED the workout this morning. Absolutely crushed it. I challenged myself, practiced things I'm not yet good at, got my heart rate way up, worked my back, arms, core, and did not think for one moment I didn't belong there just because I was the only woman in that room at that moment.
When I got to the locker room to get ready for work, I felt elated. Strong, sweaty, sore and tired in a good way. I texted my trainer to brag and celebrate and get affirmation (Seriously, he has got to think he got saddled with an extra kid when he took me on, but he is cool with it, and so I am, too. He is very affirming.)
When I went to the mirror to fix my hair, I looked myself in the eye and thought, Look what you did today -all by yourself, doing extra sets just because you could, no one cheering you on, no one even noticing.
Then I had a domino cascade of revelations:
1. I did not once think, oh, class is cancelled, I'm going home;
2. I did not look in the mirror and immediately see my pouchy tummy or mighty bat-wings;
3. I did not think, I'm pissed off, I'm getting a peppermint mocha on the way to work;
4. I did not think, I need to stay out of the way of the "real" athletes.
I did think:
1. I wonder if I can do that? I think I'll try.
2. I did X weight before, let's add some.
3. Can I do 5 more? Let's find out.
4. This is my space, walk around me.
Until just a couple months ago, I was concerned that if I didn't have my awesome trainer and my awesome therapist, that I would not be able to continue all the good work I've done up to this point. I realized recently, in a quiet sort of way, that all the hand-holding and special help I needed the last two years accomplished something even bigger in me -the realization that I can do this work now without so much dependence on other people.
I've worked through the big stuff that weighed me down and required a lot of help to make through intact. Old fear, lack of confidence, being convinced that I'm not supposed to exist so I'm always in the way seem a world away and another person's life. All that garbage in my head... crushed it.
I am in awe of the work God has done in me, and so, so grateful for His healing love.
Not today! Set my alarm extra early, pre-packed for the next day, went to bed extra early... when I arrived this morning, discovered it was cancelled when only four people showed up, none of whom were the instructor.
I scowled. Fumed, even. "NOW I have to figure out what to do on my own!!" Grrr. I'd had some coffee but it obviously hadn't made it all the way through my system yet.
"Fine! I'll go to the weight room." I stalked on up.
I tend to avoid the weight room in the very early morning because there is an older man there who always glares at me like I'm personally offending him by existing. I made a point this morning to smile at him as big and genuinely as possible, to which he responded by giving me a look of disgust and turning away. I didn't care because my gym crush ALSO happened to be there, and he did smile at me with that adorable crinkle-eyed smile, and so all was right with the world. I had my ipod with me so I could tune out the music which always seems to sound like someone going through electroshock therapy. I could ignore that my gym crush was about to see my ugly weightlifting face.
I spent a couple minutes thinking about what I wanted to do, and I won't bore you with the particulars... just to say, I CRUSHED the workout this morning. Absolutely crushed it. I challenged myself, practiced things I'm not yet good at, got my heart rate way up, worked my back, arms, core, and did not think for one moment I didn't belong there just because I was the only woman in that room at that moment.
When I got to the locker room to get ready for work, I felt elated. Strong, sweaty, sore and tired in a good way. I texted my trainer to brag and celebrate and get affirmation (Seriously, he has got to think he got saddled with an extra kid when he took me on, but he is cool with it, and so I am, too. He is very affirming.)
When I went to the mirror to fix my hair, I looked myself in the eye and thought, Look what you did today -all by yourself, doing extra sets just because you could, no one cheering you on, no one even noticing.
Then I had a domino cascade of revelations:
1. I did not once think, oh, class is cancelled, I'm going home;
2. I did not look in the mirror and immediately see my pouchy tummy or mighty bat-wings;
3. I did not think, I'm pissed off, I'm getting a peppermint mocha on the way to work;
4. I did not think, I need to stay out of the way of the "real" athletes.
I did think:
1. I wonder if I can do that? I think I'll try.
2. I did X weight before, let's add some.
3. Can I do 5 more? Let's find out.
4. This is my space, walk around me.
Until just a couple months ago, I was concerned that if I didn't have my awesome trainer and my awesome therapist, that I would not be able to continue all the good work I've done up to this point. I realized recently, in a quiet sort of way, that all the hand-holding and special help I needed the last two years accomplished something even bigger in me -the realization that I can do this work now without so much dependence on other people.
I've worked through the big stuff that weighed me down and required a lot of help to make through intact. Old fear, lack of confidence, being convinced that I'm not supposed to exist so I'm always in the way seem a world away and another person's life. All that garbage in my head... crushed it.
I am in awe of the work God has done in me, and so, so grateful for His healing love.
Wednesday, March 20, 2013
Feeling Springy!
It's cloudy and windy here today in the mountain town but somehow spring caught up with me and is doing a happy dance in my heart.
You ever have moments when it seems like everything comes peacefully together and you finally understand, in a simple quiet way, what your next step is supposed to be? Not with any floodlight or background music, but just a calm certainty that it is just time for some things to happen?
I'm there right now.
And then, just for the sake of happiness, all of my sometimes uncooperative body parts (my lungs, my back) were working together the past couple days to be able to really slam some workouts. It feels so GOOD to just wear myself out doing stuff like lifting heavy things and challenging my balance.
I actually enjoy getting hot and sweaty from sheer effort. Where I get discouraged is when asthma kicks in and I'm just doing what I can, or my back gets all jacked up and simply touching my toes is a mere pipe dream. Endorphins never kick in when I'm just maintaining.
I kind of want to hug the world right now.
You ever have moments when it seems like everything comes peacefully together and you finally understand, in a simple quiet way, what your next step is supposed to be? Not with any floodlight or background music, but just a calm certainty that it is just time for some things to happen?
I'm there right now.
And then, just for the sake of happiness, all of my sometimes uncooperative body parts (my lungs, my back) were working together the past couple days to be able to really slam some workouts. It feels so GOOD to just wear myself out doing stuff like lifting heavy things and challenging my balance.
I actually enjoy getting hot and sweaty from sheer effort. Where I get discouraged is when asthma kicks in and I'm just doing what I can, or my back gets all jacked up and simply touching my toes is a mere pipe dream. Endorphins never kick in when I'm just maintaining.
I kind of want to hug the world right now.
Tuesday, March 19, 2013
Dating and Modern Men and Dads and St. Joseph's Day
St. Joseph was really a stand-up guy. I mean, really, can you even IMAGINE being an imperfect, flawed human married to the Blessed Virgin, and raising the Christ Child? That had to be a bit challenging some days.
Still, in doing his best, he provides a nice example of manly, protective, nurturing love that all of us can learn from... but I hope the guys pay attention most of all!
I've now been dating about 27 years. I feel I've learned and grown through all my various relationships -good and bad and downright ugly. When I write about the job our culture does on the minds and hearts of women, there is also a simple acknowledgement that our culture also plays such a mind game on men. This leads some men into thinking that relationships and sex are games, and brings all sorts of craziness to life. After having been in a couple abusive relationships, I am quite aware that some men are attracted to the sparkly adventurous butterfly in me because they want to capture it and pin it to a wall.
Still, I am blessed to know many good men who provide examples of real love and commitment and proper priorities. Most of them were not born this way -some of them were downright bad people until they turned their lives around. I do not think there is any more over-protective person in the world than a former "bad boy" who becomes the father of a daughter. They KNOW.
So, in honor of all imperfect dads, I'm going to share some lovely stuff about my dad.
He sent me off to school every day with, "If they give you any crap, feed em a knuckle sandwich!"
He wrote me a letter every single week all through college and law school.
He taught me how to play chess, use a slide rule, dig post holes, throw a punch, tell boys "no," math is fun, tie my shoelaces, drive, why it is AWESOME to be Catholic, and that God always and forever comes first.
He let me try out for the wrestling team at my grade school in South Bend. I did well, but for some reason, they still didn't want me. :-) My dad was willing to go to the mattresses if I really wanted to be on the team, but I decided I'd rather stick with ballet. My mom was rather relieved, as I recall.
When my older brothers told me at the tender age of 5 that I was adopted and they didn't really want me but they had to take me in because someone left me on the doorstep, I woke my dad up crying, and he sleepily tried to find my birth certificate to prove I wasn't adopted. My mother grumbled vaguely from bed that she was quite positive I wasn't adopted. My dad could not find the birth certificate, and promised me I wasn't adopted, to which I responded, "The boys said you'd say that!!" at which point he became quite irritated with my brothers. He tucked me into bed and gave me the best advice ever, "Sometimes, boys will try to get your goat. Ignore them."
In college, my then-boyfriend and I were visiting my parents. After my parents went to sleep, C and I were on the lower level of the house watching TV, and he was trying his darndest to convince me we ought to go into another room and "go all the way." I kept saying no, and finally said I was going to bed and would see him in the morning. When I went up the stairs, I saw my dad sitting on the couch, looking as angry as I've ever seen him. Turned out when he got up to get something from the kitchen, he overheard our little exchange. The next morning, he told me that real men respect women's boundaries and he thought very little of that young man I had brought home with me. I relayed that to C a bit later, and he was shocked that my dad had witnessed his behavior, and "straightened up and flew right" after that. It took quite a while before my dad thought better of him, but I don't think he ever thought all that much of him at any point, and wasn't sad at all when we eventually broke up.
When the time came to leave the convent, I called my dad to come get me, and he showed up exactly when I wanted him to, helped me load stuff into the trunk, gave me a candy bar and said, "Lotus, you gave it everything. God has bigger things in mind for you." I spent two weeks staring at the ceiling until he and my brother conspired to send me to Michigan to play with my little niece and nephew and have something to do besides stare at the ceiling. He gave me space and time to get my head together enough to find a job and figure out the next move on the chess board.
Every time I talk to him on the phone, he tells me he loves me and is proud of me. That's still pretty cool.
Still, in doing his best, he provides a nice example of manly, protective, nurturing love that all of us can learn from... but I hope the guys pay attention most of all!
I've now been dating about 27 years. I feel I've learned and grown through all my various relationships -good and bad and downright ugly. When I write about the job our culture does on the minds and hearts of women, there is also a simple acknowledgement that our culture also plays such a mind game on men. This leads some men into thinking that relationships and sex are games, and brings all sorts of craziness to life. After having been in a couple abusive relationships, I am quite aware that some men are attracted to the sparkly adventurous butterfly in me because they want to capture it and pin it to a wall.
Still, I am blessed to know many good men who provide examples of real love and commitment and proper priorities. Most of them were not born this way -some of them were downright bad people until they turned their lives around. I do not think there is any more over-protective person in the world than a former "bad boy" who becomes the father of a daughter. They KNOW.
So, in honor of all imperfect dads, I'm going to share some lovely stuff about my dad.
He sent me off to school every day with, "If they give you any crap, feed em a knuckle sandwich!"
He wrote me a letter every single week all through college and law school.
He taught me how to play chess, use a slide rule, dig post holes, throw a punch, tell boys "no," math is fun, tie my shoelaces, drive, why it is AWESOME to be Catholic, and that God always and forever comes first.
He let me try out for the wrestling team at my grade school in South Bend. I did well, but for some reason, they still didn't want me. :-) My dad was willing to go to the mattresses if I really wanted to be on the team, but I decided I'd rather stick with ballet. My mom was rather relieved, as I recall.
When my older brothers told me at the tender age of 5 that I was adopted and they didn't really want me but they had to take me in because someone left me on the doorstep, I woke my dad up crying, and he sleepily tried to find my birth certificate to prove I wasn't adopted. My mother grumbled vaguely from bed that she was quite positive I wasn't adopted. My dad could not find the birth certificate, and promised me I wasn't adopted, to which I responded, "The boys said you'd say that!!" at which point he became quite irritated with my brothers. He tucked me into bed and gave me the best advice ever, "Sometimes, boys will try to get your goat. Ignore them."
In college, my then-boyfriend and I were visiting my parents. After my parents went to sleep, C and I were on the lower level of the house watching TV, and he was trying his darndest to convince me we ought to go into another room and "go all the way." I kept saying no, and finally said I was going to bed and would see him in the morning. When I went up the stairs, I saw my dad sitting on the couch, looking as angry as I've ever seen him. Turned out when he got up to get something from the kitchen, he overheard our little exchange. The next morning, he told me that real men respect women's boundaries and he thought very little of that young man I had brought home with me. I relayed that to C a bit later, and he was shocked that my dad had witnessed his behavior, and "straightened up and flew right" after that. It took quite a while before my dad thought better of him, but I don't think he ever thought all that much of him at any point, and wasn't sad at all when we eventually broke up.
When the time came to leave the convent, I called my dad to come get me, and he showed up exactly when I wanted him to, helped me load stuff into the trunk, gave me a candy bar and said, "Lotus, you gave it everything. God has bigger things in mind for you." I spent two weeks staring at the ceiling until he and my brother conspired to send me to Michigan to play with my little niece and nephew and have something to do besides stare at the ceiling. He gave me space and time to get my head together enough to find a job and figure out the next move on the chess board.
Every time I talk to him on the phone, he tells me he loves me and is proud of me. That's still pretty cool.
Monday, March 18, 2013
Besties and Backpacks
My BFF came to Arizona this weekend. I had no idea how badly I needed to see her until we were in the same space/time continuum and I could barely hold back the tears.
I miss her terribly. Being on opposite ends of the country makes even a simple phone call a logistical nightmare. When I get off work, she is putting her littles into bed, and then collapsing herself. My planned trip over NYE to visit her jumped the tracks due to my bad back. We haven't been in the same place for about a year and a half. It hasn't been just the two of us in many, many years.
We realized next year is our 25th anniversary. We don't know the exact date. We met my second year of college (her first year) a week or so before spring finals when we both were taking a Theatre Design class, and she had seen me in the dorm cafeteria once and thought I might be there one morning to ask a question about the King Lear assignment we had. I usually just grabbed a pop tart and headed to class, but THAT day they had chocolate chip coffee cake, so I had actually stayed to eat. We talked for several days straight after that. We were meant to be.
We've had a few bumps along the road, but like most committed relationships, we worked/work through it.
I joke that I used up all my talent for commitment with her. She said she is okay with that.
We are complete opposites in almost every way. Really, the only commonalities we have are the way we talk and the way we use our hands to do so. We like different things, we have different attitudes and outlooks, we have different paths in life. In 25 years, that hasn't mattered.
I think of the cool stuff to do, and she figures out how to make it happen. I break stuff, she fixes it -cars, lamps, my life. We don't have to explain much any more. She is the main contributor to my massive fridge magnet collection (with a new addition from Abu Dhabi just this weekend!)
I'm going to Spain for a special hike this fall, and she can't go with me -that whole husband/two kids/other priorities thing.
We went to REI to buy my backpack for the hike. It meant so much that she was there with me, to swoon over the backpack, help me find the kind of emergency blanket that can fold up into a little bitty square, encourage me to buy the super cute travel purse I don't need at all but really wanted. She pointed out all the really cute workout clothes they have I can wear now. I rolled my eyes that they would even have my size, and she argued with me, and it turned out she was right. That's typical.
We talked almost nonstop the entire weekend. We had too many things that couldn't be communicated over a telephone or email or FB. When we fell silent, it was the being-ness of occupying the same location, when words aren't enough, or too much, or simply unnecessary.
It may turn out, when all is said and done, my greatest accomplishment on this earth is this crazy love that God gifted us, that continues to endure and grow.
I miss her terribly. Being on opposite ends of the country makes even a simple phone call a logistical nightmare. When I get off work, she is putting her littles into bed, and then collapsing herself. My planned trip over NYE to visit her jumped the tracks due to my bad back. We haven't been in the same place for about a year and a half. It hasn't been just the two of us in many, many years.
We realized next year is our 25th anniversary. We don't know the exact date. We met my second year of college (her first year) a week or so before spring finals when we both were taking a Theatre Design class, and she had seen me in the dorm cafeteria once and thought I might be there one morning to ask a question about the King Lear assignment we had. I usually just grabbed a pop tart and headed to class, but THAT day they had chocolate chip coffee cake, so I had actually stayed to eat. We talked for several days straight after that. We were meant to be.
We've had a few bumps along the road, but like most committed relationships, we worked/work through it.
I joke that I used up all my talent for commitment with her. She said she is okay with that.
We are complete opposites in almost every way. Really, the only commonalities we have are the way we talk and the way we use our hands to do so. We like different things, we have different attitudes and outlooks, we have different paths in life. In 25 years, that hasn't mattered.
I think of the cool stuff to do, and she figures out how to make it happen. I break stuff, she fixes it -cars, lamps, my life. We don't have to explain much any more. She is the main contributor to my massive fridge magnet collection (with a new addition from Abu Dhabi just this weekend!)
I'm going to Spain for a special hike this fall, and she can't go with me -that whole husband/two kids/other priorities thing.
We went to REI to buy my backpack for the hike. It meant so much that she was there with me, to swoon over the backpack, help me find the kind of emergency blanket that can fold up into a little bitty square, encourage me to buy the super cute travel purse I don't need at all but really wanted. She pointed out all the really cute workout clothes they have I can wear now. I rolled my eyes that they would even have my size, and she argued with me, and it turned out she was right. That's typical.
We talked almost nonstop the entire weekend. We had too many things that couldn't be communicated over a telephone or email or FB. When we fell silent, it was the being-ness of occupying the same location, when words aren't enough, or too much, or simply unnecessary.
It may turn out, when all is said and done, my greatest accomplishment on this earth is this crazy love that God gifted us, that continues to endure and grow.
Saturday, March 16, 2013
What Am I DOING??
So after my wee bit of hitting the wall this week, and both my trainer and my counselor pointing out I probably ought to think about my fitness goals, I had a lot of time to think on my drive down to Tucson.
Well, not a LOT of time. The first couple hours were spent sifting through work thoughts, to-do list, things I'm behind on, etc. takes a long time sometimes for my head to clear out. My trainer gave me homework to think of five workouts to put together for this thing we are going to try out. I couldn't think of the names of anything on my drive down, so it was frustrating and I decided to think about shoes because I like thinking about shoes. And poetry. And imagining life as Xena. Xena didn't have asthma.
So this morning I had a bit of a revelation. There I am, hanging out at Blue Willow with a bottomless coffee cup and blueberry pancakes and for the first time in weeks and weeks, my to-do list was not running through my head... To be more exact, my didn't-do list, which truly is endless. This morning I had nowhere to be, nothing to do, and time on my hands. This is a very rare thing.
Some things I have to simply accept in my life. Sometimes my back will go out because I'm over six feet tall and for many years carried far too much weight on my body. Sometimes I won't be able to run like wind because the air is too dirty. I will always have problems finding cute clothes because no matter how skinny I get, I will always be too tall for off the rack clothing. I will never be able to live off cookies. Welcome to life, Amy.
My occasional back problems and my asthma will get better as I continue to exercise and get more fit, but they won't magically go away. This may be an occasional speed bump, but neither of these things is a box limiting where I can eventually go. It may take me longer and involve pain and frustration, but these cannot stop me.
I am the only thing that can stop me from doing anything I set out to do.
So here is what I want to be able to do, and am willing to do the work to achieve:
Run four miles without slowing to a walk.
Lose 60 more pounds. (I think that's when I'll hit my ideal weight, more or less.)
Do a pull up. Just one. I don't want to be a fanatic about it.
Dead lift twice my body weight.
I don't know how long this will take to do. I'm not entirely sure it is even achievable. But I want to TRY. Even if I don't get all the way there, I think the attempt will teach me something worth learning.
Well, not a LOT of time. The first couple hours were spent sifting through work thoughts, to-do list, things I'm behind on, etc. takes a long time sometimes for my head to clear out. My trainer gave me homework to think of five workouts to put together for this thing we are going to try out. I couldn't think of the names of anything on my drive down, so it was frustrating and I decided to think about shoes because I like thinking about shoes. And poetry. And imagining life as Xena. Xena didn't have asthma.
So this morning I had a bit of a revelation. There I am, hanging out at Blue Willow with a bottomless coffee cup and blueberry pancakes and for the first time in weeks and weeks, my to-do list was not running through my head... To be more exact, my didn't-do list, which truly is endless. This morning I had nowhere to be, nothing to do, and time on my hands. This is a very rare thing.
Some things I have to simply accept in my life. Sometimes my back will go out because I'm over six feet tall and for many years carried far too much weight on my body. Sometimes I won't be able to run like wind because the air is too dirty. I will always have problems finding cute clothes because no matter how skinny I get, I will always be too tall for off the rack clothing. I will never be able to live off cookies. Welcome to life, Amy.
My occasional back problems and my asthma will get better as I continue to exercise and get more fit, but they won't magically go away. This may be an occasional speed bump, but neither of these things is a box limiting where I can eventually go. It may take me longer and involve pain and frustration, but these cannot stop me.
I am the only thing that can stop me from doing anything I set out to do.
So here is what I want to be able to do, and am willing to do the work to achieve:
Run four miles without slowing to a walk.
Lose 60 more pounds. (I think that's when I'll hit my ideal weight, more or less.)
Do a pull up. Just one. I don't want to be a fanatic about it.
Dead lift twice my body weight.
I don't know how long this will take to do. I'm not entirely sure it is even achievable. But I want to TRY. Even if I don't get all the way there, I think the attempt will teach me something worth learning.
Thursday, March 14, 2013
Mixing It Up
I crumbled this week about working out. I'm a fairly stoic person and power through the difficulties and rarely take the fact something is HARD as a reason to not do it.
Lately, I've felt my work-outs have all been like that. Struggling with asthma, I've had more indoor running on a treadmill than outdoor running in the sunshine. With my back going out periodically, I've started and stopped heavy lifting more times than I care to think on.
So, I have great hard-hitting workouts for a couple weeks, and then, I'm back to doing whatever it is my body can do with an injury or asthma or ...
My latest hiccup has been a rib that slid from its proper place that is occasionally stabbing me and stealing my ability to breathe. Despite my chiro's best efforts, it is not cooperating.
I'm dying of boredom on a treadmill. This slipped rib keeps me from even being able to run on it, or anywhere else for that matter.
The Sunday night dance classes I loved may return, but who knows?
I know some of my impatience comes from the immediate circumstance of my body not being up to the challenges I've set.
Some of my impatience comes from a perceived lack of progress in MONTHS... I grimly realized that when I started running last year, I ran for one minute, walked for two. I've progressed to: run for one minute, walk for two. I've regressed in terms of strength.
It's discouraging. Downright disheartening.
How long can you power through something with no measurable results and no motivation other than this vague sense that your life will be worse if you don't?
So, I talked to my Roxanne and my Jesse. Roxanne said, well, what worked for awhile isn't working any more. What do you need to do to change it? Jesse asked me what my goals are. I don't know the answer to either question.
So long ago when we were taught- That for whatever kind of puzzle you got- You just stick the right formula in- A solution for every fool- (Indigo Girls, Least Complicated)
That's me, looking for the formula.
Jesse had some ideas we will implement. I've found a couple fitness classes that will be challenging, but at least something NEW for morning workouts.
I just need to figure where I hid the "fun" and get it out again.
Lately, I've felt my work-outs have all been like that. Struggling with asthma, I've had more indoor running on a treadmill than outdoor running in the sunshine. With my back going out periodically, I've started and stopped heavy lifting more times than I care to think on.
So, I have great hard-hitting workouts for a couple weeks, and then, I'm back to doing whatever it is my body can do with an injury or asthma or ...
My latest hiccup has been a rib that slid from its proper place that is occasionally stabbing me and stealing my ability to breathe. Despite my chiro's best efforts, it is not cooperating.
I'm dying of boredom on a treadmill. This slipped rib keeps me from even being able to run on it, or anywhere else for that matter.
The Sunday night dance classes I loved may return, but who knows?
I know some of my impatience comes from the immediate circumstance of my body not being up to the challenges I've set.
Some of my impatience comes from a perceived lack of progress in MONTHS... I grimly realized that when I started running last year, I ran for one minute, walked for two. I've progressed to: run for one minute, walk for two. I've regressed in terms of strength.
It's discouraging. Downright disheartening.
How long can you power through something with no measurable results and no motivation other than this vague sense that your life will be worse if you don't?
So, I talked to my Roxanne and my Jesse. Roxanne said, well, what worked for awhile isn't working any more. What do you need to do to change it? Jesse asked me what my goals are. I don't know the answer to either question.
So long ago when we were taught- That for whatever kind of puzzle you got- You just stick the right formula in- A solution for every fool- (Indigo Girls, Least Complicated)
That's me, looking for the formula.
Jesse had some ideas we will implement. I've found a couple fitness classes that will be challenging, but at least something NEW for morning workouts.
I just need to figure where I hid the "fun" and get it out again.
Monday, March 11, 2013
Computer Virus and My Soul
I got a new new new laptop for work. It is only slightly larger than an iPad and has all kinds of bells and whistles and POWER -it's like, got the computer version of a hemi. The IT guys were all excited about it.
Within one hour of operation, I clicked on a perfectly legitimate web site, and some sort of Trojan virus slammed into my computer and took it over. I cried out for the IT guys and they rushed in.
The only solution was to wipe it and start over, it seemed. Then it seemed it was contained, so rather than wipe it, they said, if you see this again, let us know. They left all the stuff on my old computer, just in case.
I worked on the computer the rest of the day and Friday without incident. The problem was seemingly gone.
This morning when I booted up my computer, the virus box flashed again, and again I cried for help, and this time, the prognosis was: Must Be Wiped Clean, and everything reloaded.
So, in my search for something to blog about today, aside from my back problems or obsession with sugar, I started thinking about the insidious nature of these computer viruses and the insidious nature of sin. I'm working on my old virus-free computer while my new computer is in the hospital.
So, seriously, doesn't it seem that just when you think you have conquered that one area of your life where you consistently "miss the mark" that it crops up again, like an evil Jack-in-the-Box?
It is a different thing for everybody -food, drugs, sex, being pessimistic or negative, being critical or just downright mean. Everyone has something that trips them up. Everyone has their own insidious computer virus hiding in the shadows of their souls.
Well, except Mary and Jesus. I'm talking about normal people. Even Mother Theresa had demons to fight.
I think sometimes it would be so easy to give up -and loads of people do, you know. We all know people who eat everything without counting what it is doing to their bodies, do drugs abusively, have sex with anything at any time, who are committed to being negative or critical or mean.
The fight itself means something, though, even if you never win. A friend, Ben, wrote this to me almost three years ago now, when I was sunk in a mire I thought I would never pull out of:
You already know my thoughts about going out and getting it. You CAN change you. God says so.
Be determined with a vengeance, Amy. Don't be discouraged when distractions and set backs get in your way. Being pro-life means being pro-YOU. We are NOT meant for wasting our life. We are NOT meant for bitching, for depression, for giving up. God loves you so much that He cares that you do this. Ask Him for help and He will KEEP giving.
You have God, you have HEART, you have focus, you have passion for this. Don't get distracted with all the BS that gets you off tracks and robs your happiness, peace, joy, and life. God is for you. Your friends are you. It is GOOD that you are now FOR YOU 200%.
Again, this is a war that is fought and won every day. Don't be discouraged with the little losses. Be ENCOURAGED with the increasing victories. God is going to give you the life and love to do this. GO OUT AND GET YOUR LIFE BACK!!!
Amen to that!
Within one hour of operation, I clicked on a perfectly legitimate web site, and some sort of Trojan virus slammed into my computer and took it over. I cried out for the IT guys and they rushed in.
The only solution was to wipe it and start over, it seemed. Then it seemed it was contained, so rather than wipe it, they said, if you see this again, let us know. They left all the stuff on my old computer, just in case.
I worked on the computer the rest of the day and Friday without incident. The problem was seemingly gone.
This morning when I booted up my computer, the virus box flashed again, and again I cried for help, and this time, the prognosis was: Must Be Wiped Clean, and everything reloaded.
So, in my search for something to blog about today, aside from my back problems or obsession with sugar, I started thinking about the insidious nature of these computer viruses and the insidious nature of sin. I'm working on my old virus-free computer while my new computer is in the hospital.
So, seriously, doesn't it seem that just when you think you have conquered that one area of your life where you consistently "miss the mark" that it crops up again, like an evil Jack-in-the-Box?
It is a different thing for everybody -food, drugs, sex, being pessimistic or negative, being critical or just downright mean. Everyone has something that trips them up. Everyone has their own insidious computer virus hiding in the shadows of their souls.
Well, except Mary and Jesus. I'm talking about normal people. Even Mother Theresa had demons to fight.
I think sometimes it would be so easy to give up -and loads of people do, you know. We all know people who eat everything without counting what it is doing to their bodies, do drugs abusively, have sex with anything at any time, who are committed to being negative or critical or mean.
The fight itself means something, though, even if you never win. A friend, Ben, wrote this to me almost three years ago now, when I was sunk in a mire I thought I would never pull out of:
You already know my thoughts about going out and getting it. You CAN change you. God says so.
Be determined with a vengeance, Amy. Don't be discouraged when distractions and set backs get in your way. Being pro-life means being pro-YOU. We are NOT meant for wasting our life. We are NOT meant for bitching, for depression, for giving up. God loves you so much that He cares that you do this. Ask Him for help and He will KEEP giving.
You have God, you have HEART, you have focus, you have passion for this. Don't get distracted with all the BS that gets you off tracks and robs your happiness, peace, joy, and life. God is for you. Your friends are you. It is GOOD that you are now FOR YOU 200%.
Again, this is a war that is fought and won every day. Don't be discouraged with the little losses. Be ENCOURAGED with the increasing victories. God is going to give you the life and love to do this. GO OUT AND GET YOUR LIFE BACK!!!
Amen to that!
Friday, March 8, 2013
My Experiment in Eating
A couple weeks ago after hearing so much from people I respect about the benefits of healthy eating, I decided to make a concentrated effort to modify my eating habits a bit. Being someone who consumed enough sugar to supply the South with sweet tea for a generation, I thought this could be interesting.
When I told a few people, I think a couple were genuinely shocked I was going to attempt this. I mean, I LOVE sweets.
I decided to try it for one weekend -no refined sugar, as little processed food as possible, incorporate a "green" shake once per day. My shake usually consisted of Greek yogurt, kale, blueberries, spinach, coconut water and orange juice. I made the mental commitment to eat every three hours when humanly possible, keeping all the meals about the same size.
Although the shake took a bit of getting used to, I was surprised at how easily I walked away from the refined sugar. I had a few cravings, but nothing insurmountable, especially in the interests of science!
Monday morning came and since the weekend had gone so well, I decided to keep going until I left for my trip to San Francisco that Thursday.
Then, while I was in San Francisco, I thought, hey, I'm on a roll with this, why not keep going?
So, this experiment has been going on two weeks now. I was baking cookies for our volunteers at our public radio station, and ate one cookie. One. Just a couple weeks before I'd had a dozen home-made cookies as dinner one night.
One thing that became readily apparent as I eliminated refined sugar from my food plan -the cravings seemed to have a very specific time when they hit. When I was tired, suddenly, I would be jonesing for a soda -and I didn't drink soda even before the experiment started! So, I learned I had to put a few more calories into my meals so I wasn't tired from not having enough fuel for all my activity. When you eat a healthy, plant-emphasis plan, it can be tricky to get enough calories.
My energy level has certainly been boosted. I'm sleeping a bit better. I snuck onto a scale a few days in and had a several-pound weight loss, probably from the natural reduction in salt that occurs when you are avoiding processed food.
What I notice most though, is that my general moodiness has gotten much more stable. Eating healthy food regularly has evened out my blood sugar levels so it isn't spiking with all those sweets, and dropping an hour later. Which helps with the tiredness, which helps with the cravings... its all a circle!
So, I am continuing the experiment and thinking about how I want to incorporate sweets back in. I don't like the thought of never eating them again, but I don't want to become semi-addicted again. I think I may start to try to look at sweets as a special treat for special occasions, instead of just another food choice in a plethora of food choices.
I'll let you know how it goes! But right now, I'm digging the healthy green stuff.
When I told a few people, I think a couple were genuinely shocked I was going to attempt this. I mean, I LOVE sweets.
I decided to try it for one weekend -no refined sugar, as little processed food as possible, incorporate a "green" shake once per day. My shake usually consisted of Greek yogurt, kale, blueberries, spinach, coconut water and orange juice. I made the mental commitment to eat every three hours when humanly possible, keeping all the meals about the same size.
Although the shake took a bit of getting used to, I was surprised at how easily I walked away from the refined sugar. I had a few cravings, but nothing insurmountable, especially in the interests of science!
Monday morning came and since the weekend had gone so well, I decided to keep going until I left for my trip to San Francisco that Thursday.
Then, while I was in San Francisco, I thought, hey, I'm on a roll with this, why not keep going?
So, this experiment has been going on two weeks now. I was baking cookies for our volunteers at our public radio station, and ate one cookie. One. Just a couple weeks before I'd had a dozen home-made cookies as dinner one night.
One thing that became readily apparent as I eliminated refined sugar from my food plan -the cravings seemed to have a very specific time when they hit. When I was tired, suddenly, I would be jonesing for a soda -and I didn't drink soda even before the experiment started! So, I learned I had to put a few more calories into my meals so I wasn't tired from not having enough fuel for all my activity. When you eat a healthy, plant-emphasis plan, it can be tricky to get enough calories.
My energy level has certainly been boosted. I'm sleeping a bit better. I snuck onto a scale a few days in and had a several-pound weight loss, probably from the natural reduction in salt that occurs when you are avoiding processed food.
What I notice most though, is that my general moodiness has gotten much more stable. Eating healthy food regularly has evened out my blood sugar levels so it isn't spiking with all those sweets, and dropping an hour later. Which helps with the tiredness, which helps with the cravings... its all a circle!
So, I am continuing the experiment and thinking about how I want to incorporate sweets back in. I don't like the thought of never eating them again, but I don't want to become semi-addicted again. I think I may start to try to look at sweets as a special treat for special occasions, instead of just another food choice in a plethora of food choices.
I'll let you know how it goes! But right now, I'm digging the healthy green stuff.
Thursday, March 7, 2013
Taxes and Morality
I swear I am going to write an academic paper on this topic, and I suspect exactly 3 people will read it.
Taxes are a necessary evil and I am glad we collect them because then I don't have to make out fifty different checks to fund roads, schools, libraries, and keep Canada from invading.
Taxes are our social capital, along with charitable donations. Social capital is the money we are not spending on ourselves, but on the greater good of society.
You hear in the news all the time about big donations, and probably get just as much mail and as many phone calls as I do asking for a donation to this or that.
Most people know, if you itemize your taxes, you get a deduction from your AGI (adjusted gross income) for those charitable donations. This is not the same as a tax credit, which is really just redirecting your actual tax payment. All this means is that you are not taxed on your social capital.
Recently, Congress has been looking into making changes to the deductibility of charitable donations. Most of these changes center around the idea of reducing the amount you are able to deduct from your AGI.
You may have heard that our government seems to need more money in order to run effectively. Whether or not that is true is not going to be addressed here.
What troubles me about this is that they are looking into making these particular changes to be able to get more money.
Terrible, terrible idea. This would have a strong negative impact on so many charities, esp the ones that do the dirty work of feeding the poor, helping the homeless, etc -since these are the charities that tend to run closest to the margin.
But even moreso, I think this is simply a poor ethical choice.
Our complex tax code is actually a mirror of our public, corporate morality. If you arrange your financial and life affairs in accordance with the tax code, you receive great benefits. We have deductions for environmental sustainability, having families, buying homes... and giving to charity. If you buy and sell stock too quickly, you pay higher tax rates than stock you hold on to long term. We have a graduated tax system so that people with higher income pay more in taxes.
So, what we seem to value as a country is: long term investment, stability, civic duty, environmental consciousness, as a broad brush stroke. If we valued other things, that too would be reflected in the tax code.
This really is where we, as a country, put our money where our mouth is.
When we consider that these deductions for charitable contributions are simply reducing the income calculated for taxation purposes, we realize that all that means is that this particular income is NOT TAXED. There is no extra free ride on this.
If we decide to cap this deduction, or eliminate it completely, we are saying as a country that spending for the social good is not important to us.
If this deduction were to be eliminated, we are saying the person who spends $100K feeding hungry children ought to be treated the same as the person who spent that $100K on a fancy car only he will ever drive.
Thus, we are saying, as a country, that the purchase of a fancy car is just as important to our social good as people choosing to feed hungry children.
I accept that some of my taxes (and I actually am part of our society that pays taxes!) go to pay for things I personally find immoral -Gitmo being at the top of that list, not to mention taxpayer funded abortions. I accept in this great big country of differing ideals that not all the choices are mine to make. I do pray a culture of LIFE permeates our culture.
I do not accept the fallacy that all expenditures are equal, and I do not accept that charitable giving is simply another option for spending money along with luxuries.
I do not believe that we should ever sacrifice the poor to fund our government, and punish those who are using their private resources for public good. Reducing the charitable deduction would have the effect of doing both.
Taxes are a necessary evil and I am glad we collect them because then I don't have to make out fifty different checks to fund roads, schools, libraries, and keep Canada from invading.
Taxes are our social capital, along with charitable donations. Social capital is the money we are not spending on ourselves, but on the greater good of society.
You hear in the news all the time about big donations, and probably get just as much mail and as many phone calls as I do asking for a donation to this or that.
Most people know, if you itemize your taxes, you get a deduction from your AGI (adjusted gross income) for those charitable donations. This is not the same as a tax credit, which is really just redirecting your actual tax payment. All this means is that you are not taxed on your social capital.
Recently, Congress has been looking into making changes to the deductibility of charitable donations. Most of these changes center around the idea of reducing the amount you are able to deduct from your AGI.
You may have heard that our government seems to need more money in order to run effectively. Whether or not that is true is not going to be addressed here.
What troubles me about this is that they are looking into making these particular changes to be able to get more money.
Terrible, terrible idea. This would have a strong negative impact on so many charities, esp the ones that do the dirty work of feeding the poor, helping the homeless, etc -since these are the charities that tend to run closest to the margin.
But even moreso, I think this is simply a poor ethical choice.
Our complex tax code is actually a mirror of our public, corporate morality. If you arrange your financial and life affairs in accordance with the tax code, you receive great benefits. We have deductions for environmental sustainability, having families, buying homes... and giving to charity. If you buy and sell stock too quickly, you pay higher tax rates than stock you hold on to long term. We have a graduated tax system so that people with higher income pay more in taxes.
So, what we seem to value as a country is: long term investment, stability, civic duty, environmental consciousness, as a broad brush stroke. If we valued other things, that too would be reflected in the tax code.
This really is where we, as a country, put our money where our mouth is.
When we consider that these deductions for charitable contributions are simply reducing the income calculated for taxation purposes, we realize that all that means is that this particular income is NOT TAXED. There is no extra free ride on this.
If we decide to cap this deduction, or eliminate it completely, we are saying as a country that spending for the social good is not important to us.
If this deduction were to be eliminated, we are saying the person who spends $100K feeding hungry children ought to be treated the same as the person who spent that $100K on a fancy car only he will ever drive.
Thus, we are saying, as a country, that the purchase of a fancy car is just as important to our social good as people choosing to feed hungry children.
I accept that some of my taxes (and I actually am part of our society that pays taxes!) go to pay for things I personally find immoral -Gitmo being at the top of that list, not to mention taxpayer funded abortions. I accept in this great big country of differing ideals that not all the choices are mine to make. I do pray a culture of LIFE permeates our culture.
I do not accept the fallacy that all expenditures are equal, and I do not accept that charitable giving is simply another option for spending money along with luxuries.
I do not believe that we should ever sacrifice the poor to fund our government, and punish those who are using their private resources for public good. Reducing the charitable deduction would have the effect of doing both.
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
Spidey Sense and Dancing and Drinking
I've debated over and over whether or not to share this. It is the story of a close call, and a reminder that I am indeed, protected by God and surrounded by angels. When it happened, it took me a few days to process it until I was able to chat about it with someone who understands these things -in this case, my awesome therapist. Let's call her Roxanne, since that is her name.
Be warned, this takes a bit to tell properly.
In San Francisco this past weekend, my friend Athena and I went dancing. This is rare, as the town I live in has very few dancing opportunities, so I was looking forward to it ever since we decided we needed to spend our Saturday night in the big city doing that. We dressed up and looked amazing, BTW.
Fast forward to somewhere around midnight in a fun nightclub with great music to dance to and cool laser lights and delicious cheap drinks. I'm not exactly sure how much I had to drink... dancing makes you thirsty, and Grey Goose and cranberry juice (heavy on the vodka) is easy to drink. We were cabbing it everywhere, so I wasn't worried about driving. And I very rarely drink alcohol so all in the all the evening was a rare treat in every way.
As we were dancing, our stuff piled on a box in a corner of the dance floor next to our drinks, I noticed a young man leaning against the wall near us and our stuff. He was watching the crowd, and eventually I noticed he was watching me. I smiled at him vaguely and mostly ignored him. I felt bad he didn't seem to be having much fun. He seemed a bit out of place.
A bit later he motioned me over, and me, feeling all warm and friendly and buzzed, stepped over. He leaned over and shouted the usual bar nonsense into my ear, "You're so pretty, are you here with someone, do you live around here? blahblahblah" I remember being really amused because I am old enough to be this kid's hip younger aunt ;-) and he was hitting on me. But I was there to dance, so I waved bye and went back to the dancing.
(Quick shout out to my trainer, BTW... I was dancing for HOURS without a break. Happy day!)
Eventually, he sat down on the box next to our stuff, and I'm dancing maybe three feet away. I stepped over to take a drink and he patted the box next to him, so I sat down and we chatted some more, me sipping away on my drink.
I'm friendly, what can I say?
Still, he wasn't interested in dancing, so I popped back up and got back into the music.
A few minutes later, I felt someone grab my wrist, and start pulling me. It was this guy, and as he pulled me to the back of the dance floor, I was thinking, like through marshmallow goo, it's just as crowded on this part of the dance floor, what's he doing? His grip was pretty tight, but I didn't even try to pull away.
He stopped next to the exit, leaned in to face me and asked, "Do you want a drink?" I was even more confused, and shook my head, "No, I have one." Didn't he notice that when I was sitting next to him?
Then he grabbed my wrist again, really tight, and started to walk out the door. This time, I dug my heels in and pulled away hard. He turned and gave me this look. I was really confused. He looked, well, angry. Then he turned and walked out the exit.
I stood there, foggy and confused, and thinking, What just happened? Five seconds later, Athena ran up and yelled, "He stole my phone!" We ran out -the kid was long gone.
The next 20 minutes was spent talking to security, and then because we were DONE for the evening, Ethan called a car for us, and we headed back to the hotel. Athena was understandably upset, saying over and over, "That jerk asked you to dance just so he could steal my iPhone!" (She didn't use the word "jerk" BTW.) Athena's phone had been laying out next to her purse. Our purses hadn't been messed with. (Yes, the iPhone shouldn't have been left out. She learned her lesson.) Me? I just felt weird and a bit disconnected.
But the whole incident puzzled me. He didn't need to go through all that just to steal an unprotected phone. My recollection of the events are a bit fuzzy. There is a bruise on my arm from where his thumb pressed in.
So I unpacked this with Roxanne, just trying to understand. Normally, she is rather sedate while we talk, but this time, she got animated and leaned forward and said, "He was a predator, and you were his prey."
I must have looked disbelieving, because she said, "Look at me and hear me... I've worked with predators and this is exactly how they operate. Two times he tested your defenses, and you showed him that yours weren't up. What do you think would have happened if he'd managed to get you out that door?"
I felt a bit shaken and shrugged and said, "He just wanted the phone. I could have defended myself!" to which she replied, "The phone was an easy opportunity. Getting you out the door was his object. You were unclear on what was happening to begin with, do you think you could have figured out you were in danger in time to do anything about it? What if he had a friend waiting out there? What if the reason you were foggy to begin with was that he had open access to what you were drinking since it was right there next to him?"
She continued, "Your spidey sense was trying to tell you to be protective of yourself and you quashed it down. Never quash down the spidey sense!"
I was still processing that he hadn't been after the phone. A sick feeling sank into my stomach as this fear, which had been floating around the back of my mind, was confirmed.
So we talked a bit more about appropriate behavior and expectations and listening to one's gut. I left the session rather sober and contemplative.
As it was, the only thing we lost was a pricey phone. It all could have turned out so very differently.
My guardian angels were working overtime that night. I did not go out that door.
Thank you, thank you, God, for surrounding me with angels, and never, ever leaving me to face my perils alone.
Be warned, this takes a bit to tell properly.
In San Francisco this past weekend, my friend Athena and I went dancing. This is rare, as the town I live in has very few dancing opportunities, so I was looking forward to it ever since we decided we needed to spend our Saturday night in the big city doing that. We dressed up and looked amazing, BTW.
Fast forward to somewhere around midnight in a fun nightclub with great music to dance to and cool laser lights and delicious cheap drinks. I'm not exactly sure how much I had to drink... dancing makes you thirsty, and Grey Goose and cranberry juice (heavy on the vodka) is easy to drink. We were cabbing it everywhere, so I wasn't worried about driving. And I very rarely drink alcohol so all in the all the evening was a rare treat in every way.
As we were dancing, our stuff piled on a box in a corner of the dance floor next to our drinks, I noticed a young man leaning against the wall near us and our stuff. He was watching the crowd, and eventually I noticed he was watching me. I smiled at him vaguely and mostly ignored him. I felt bad he didn't seem to be having much fun. He seemed a bit out of place.
A bit later he motioned me over, and me, feeling all warm and friendly and buzzed, stepped over. He leaned over and shouted the usual bar nonsense into my ear, "You're so pretty, are you here with someone, do you live around here? blahblahblah" I remember being really amused because I am old enough to be this kid's hip younger aunt ;-) and he was hitting on me. But I was there to dance, so I waved bye and went back to the dancing.
(Quick shout out to my trainer, BTW... I was dancing for HOURS without a break. Happy day!)
Eventually, he sat down on the box next to our stuff, and I'm dancing maybe three feet away. I stepped over to take a drink and he patted the box next to him, so I sat down and we chatted some more, me sipping away on my drink.
I'm friendly, what can I say?
Still, he wasn't interested in dancing, so I popped back up and got back into the music.
A few minutes later, I felt someone grab my wrist, and start pulling me. It was this guy, and as he pulled me to the back of the dance floor, I was thinking, like through marshmallow goo, it's just as crowded on this part of the dance floor, what's he doing? His grip was pretty tight, but I didn't even try to pull away.
He stopped next to the exit, leaned in to face me and asked, "Do you want a drink?" I was even more confused, and shook my head, "No, I have one." Didn't he notice that when I was sitting next to him?
Then he grabbed my wrist again, really tight, and started to walk out the door. This time, I dug my heels in and pulled away hard. He turned and gave me this look. I was really confused. He looked, well, angry. Then he turned and walked out the exit.
I stood there, foggy and confused, and thinking, What just happened? Five seconds later, Athena ran up and yelled, "He stole my phone!" We ran out -the kid was long gone.
The next 20 minutes was spent talking to security, and then because we were DONE for the evening, Ethan called a car for us, and we headed back to the hotel. Athena was understandably upset, saying over and over, "That jerk asked you to dance just so he could steal my iPhone!" (She didn't use the word "jerk" BTW.) Athena's phone had been laying out next to her purse. Our purses hadn't been messed with. (Yes, the iPhone shouldn't have been left out. She learned her lesson.) Me? I just felt weird and a bit disconnected.
But the whole incident puzzled me. He didn't need to go through all that just to steal an unprotected phone. My recollection of the events are a bit fuzzy. There is a bruise on my arm from where his thumb pressed in.
So I unpacked this with Roxanne, just trying to understand. Normally, she is rather sedate while we talk, but this time, she got animated and leaned forward and said, "He was a predator, and you were his prey."
I must have looked disbelieving, because she said, "Look at me and hear me... I've worked with predators and this is exactly how they operate. Two times he tested your defenses, and you showed him that yours weren't up. What do you think would have happened if he'd managed to get you out that door?"
I felt a bit shaken and shrugged and said, "He just wanted the phone. I could have defended myself!" to which she replied, "The phone was an easy opportunity. Getting you out the door was his object. You were unclear on what was happening to begin with, do you think you could have figured out you were in danger in time to do anything about it? What if he had a friend waiting out there? What if the reason you were foggy to begin with was that he had open access to what you were drinking since it was right there next to him?"
She continued, "Your spidey sense was trying to tell you to be protective of yourself and you quashed it down. Never quash down the spidey sense!"
I was still processing that he hadn't been after the phone. A sick feeling sank into my stomach as this fear, which had been floating around the back of my mind, was confirmed.
So we talked a bit more about appropriate behavior and expectations and listening to one's gut. I left the session rather sober and contemplative.
As it was, the only thing we lost was a pricey phone. It all could have turned out so very differently.
My guardian angels were working overtime that night. I did not go out that door.
Thank you, thank you, God, for surrounding me with angels, and never, ever leaving me to face my perils alone.
Tuesday, March 5, 2013
gods and grief
Sorrow is one of those things that is really universal. Sometimes I will hear a twit say something to the effect of, "Sadness means you have no faith!" Then I point out John 11:35 -"Jesus wept." Question His faith. Go for it.
"Hopeless grief is passionless... if it could weep, it could arise and go." EBB
"Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood, for nothing now can ever come to any good." Auden
I think sadness and even melancholy are simply part of the process of being human and having tender hearts. Feeling sad feels unpleasant, so sometimes we try to distract ourselves from the sadness. Sometimes that's healthy. Sometimes, it just creates a structure destined to crack at the most inconvenient time.
I know I do not enjoy just sitting with sadness and then when I am done being sad, moving on to something else. A hint of sadness shows, and as I sometimes worship at the altar of Activity, I do whatever I can to feel anything but sad. Or scared. Or whatever is making me feel vulnerable.
There are some things that crop up in my head, and I am learning, slowly, imperfectly, that squishing them down into a corner of my brain to rot... only creates more rot. So, when something happens that throws me off-kilter, or a thought with a comet tail of sadness flies through... mostly I can let it go, think, yeah, that was sad, or yeah, that was scary, and then it is done.
Sadness isn't good or bad, it just... is. And like everything else, passes away if you can let go.
To see a world in a grain of sand
Or Heaven in a wild flower
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand
And Eternity in an hour.
(Blake)
"Hopeless grief is passionless... if it could weep, it could arise and go." EBB
"Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood, for nothing now can ever come to any good." Auden
I think sadness and even melancholy are simply part of the process of being human and having tender hearts. Feeling sad feels unpleasant, so sometimes we try to distract ourselves from the sadness. Sometimes that's healthy. Sometimes, it just creates a structure destined to crack at the most inconvenient time.
I know I do not enjoy just sitting with sadness and then when I am done being sad, moving on to something else. A hint of sadness shows, and as I sometimes worship at the altar of Activity, I do whatever I can to feel anything but sad. Or scared. Or whatever is making me feel vulnerable.
There are some things that crop up in my head, and I am learning, slowly, imperfectly, that squishing them down into a corner of my brain to rot... only creates more rot. So, when something happens that throws me off-kilter, or a thought with a comet tail of sadness flies through... mostly I can let it go, think, yeah, that was sad, or yeah, that was scary, and then it is done.
Sadness isn't good or bad, it just... is. And like everything else, passes away if you can let go.
To see a world in a grain of sand
Or Heaven in a wild flower
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand
And Eternity in an hour.
(Blake)
Saturday, March 2, 2013
Food Trippin!!
I was going to blog about The Incident at the Nightclub that occurred last night, but then I decided that it wasn't that interesting to anyone who isn't me, so today, it is about eating well while traveling. My trainer's blog inspired my writing today: http://thecoddingtonfour.blogspot.com/2013/03/nutrition-on-budget-beginning-search.html#!/
I travel a LOT for work. It can be really challenging to eat healthy while you are traveling. It combines the perfect opportunities for me to make choices that inhibit my goals: being tired, being in an unknown place, uncertain timing for food opportunities, being really hungry, and LOADS of junk food right there for the taking. Especially in airports, finding anything that won't completely trash my stomach can be an impossible task.
On the bright side, because I eat out so much, I do not view dining out as something special or an opportunity to splurge. That is really important -a meal out is only normal eating unless something actually special is going on -like a date, or anniversary, or birthday or something. Eating out cause ya gotta eat is just a normal dinner someone else is cooking for you.
Planning ahead is really important, too. Looking at my flight schedules and packing nutritious snacks is essential. First of all, it is cheaper to pack your own than troll the airport hoping to find something that isn't packed full of chemicals. It also staves off hunger enough to not reach for a Cinnabon when my hunger takes over my decision-making. I also pack protein shakes for the hotel room.
If I can, I eat at the grocery store as much as possible. Right now, my hotel room fridge is holding water, yogurt, muscle milk and an Odwalla shake. Breakfast and snacks are thus super easy and readily available.
When I can't-or choose not to- eat at the grocery store, I pick what is healthy at the restaurant. I do have an occasional splurge, but only on stuff REALLY worth it... like yesterday for lunch I had the most amazing mac n cheese from a local cheese shop with an attached lunch counter, and a mixed green salad with it.
I drink water water water all day, once I've gotten enough coffee in my system to operate effectively. Again, an occasional splurge (like the Grey Goose/Cranberry drinks at the nightclub last night!) but I don't drink my calories. I'd much rather have cheesecake than wine.
This trip to San Francisco was easy making food choices. This gave me the energy to do everything I wanted to do -include stay out well past my bedtime dancing my booty off, and get up in the morning and get back to work!
Nutrition does actually matter.
I travel a LOT for work. It can be really challenging to eat healthy while you are traveling. It combines the perfect opportunities for me to make choices that inhibit my goals: being tired, being in an unknown place, uncertain timing for food opportunities, being really hungry, and LOADS of junk food right there for the taking. Especially in airports, finding anything that won't completely trash my stomach can be an impossible task.
On the bright side, because I eat out so much, I do not view dining out as something special or an opportunity to splurge. That is really important -a meal out is only normal eating unless something actually special is going on -like a date, or anniversary, or birthday or something. Eating out cause ya gotta eat is just a normal dinner someone else is cooking for you.
Planning ahead is really important, too. Looking at my flight schedules and packing nutritious snacks is essential. First of all, it is cheaper to pack your own than troll the airport hoping to find something that isn't packed full of chemicals. It also staves off hunger enough to not reach for a Cinnabon when my hunger takes over my decision-making. I also pack protein shakes for the hotel room.
If I can, I eat at the grocery store as much as possible. Right now, my hotel room fridge is holding water, yogurt, muscle milk and an Odwalla shake. Breakfast and snacks are thus super easy and readily available.
When I can't-or choose not to- eat at the grocery store, I pick what is healthy at the restaurant. I do have an occasional splurge, but only on stuff REALLY worth it... like yesterday for lunch I had the most amazing mac n cheese from a local cheese shop with an attached lunch counter, and a mixed green salad with it.
I drink water water water all day, once I've gotten enough coffee in my system to operate effectively. Again, an occasional splurge (like the Grey Goose/Cranberry drinks at the nightclub last night!) but I don't drink my calories. I'd much rather have cheesecake than wine.
This trip to San Francisco was easy making food choices. This gave me the energy to do everything I wanted to do -include stay out well past my bedtime dancing my booty off, and get up in the morning and get back to work!
Nutrition does actually matter.
Friday, March 1, 2013
Chris -The San Francisco Treat
I was DETERMINED to eat a healthy breakfast this morning. I was in too much pain to actually go running in this beautiful, foggy, oxygen-heavy city. My late night before had consisted of standing for four hours in dress shoes being entertaining and informative, and then sleepily eating some world-class seafood while trying to not let my head actually drop into the bowl of clam chowder. My feet are a mass of bloody blisters, a toenail I'm sure to lose, and an aching, swollen knee.
Still, I wandered toward the Embarcadero in my uber-comfy running shoes, hoping to find a little cafe to grab some scrambled eggs. All the places I passed simply sell delicious, dense breakfast sandwiches. I walked into the Ferry Building where there is an organic market and bought a green shake... wandered to Blue Bottle and got some coffee, and eventually sat down at a communal table outside Book Passage to ponder my options. I do need to eat real food at some point.
There was a tall, thin man already sitting there reading newspapers, a couple backpacks sitting next to him. He greeted me cheerfully, said his name was Chris, and we struck up a conversation.
Chris is a native San Franciscan, and so I picked his brain about the city sights. We agreed Alcatraz is intellectually interesting, but too closed in to be actual FUN. He highly recommended the zoo -it will be a lovely day today and he felt I ought to spend it outdoors. Since I am here for work, that isn't an option, but there is always next time.
I asked him where he would recommend I go for breakfast -someplace where I can get something healthy. He laughed and said he doesn't worry too much about healthy when it comes to food and reminded me that in CA, all the chain restaurants have to put calories on the menu, so that helps you with decisions, you know?
Then he said there was a great place to get a good breakfast sandwich, and they "have those skinny bagels, you know, the ones that are all wheat and like crackers almost??" and they are nice people there. He'd show me himself, but he was watching his friend's stuff for him.
His friend was off looking for change in the street. They needed 5 dollars to in order to do something. I'm not it sure what it was, he seemed to gloss over that and it wasn't my business to inquire.
So we chatted on quite a bit, Chris pointing out the news from yesterday's paper, until his friend returned. His friend, Marty, looked really tired and out of it. He was short a dollar-fifty for whatever it was they needed to do. Marty showed me a paper and asked if the bank would accept it for ID. I said I'm not from CA, so I don't know what the banks need for ID, and Chris got impatient with him and said he'd go with him to make sure it was okay.
So Chris picked up his backpack and reminded me to check out that bagel place he told me about. Off they went to look for cans and more dropped change.
I headed off, too, and located the bagel place he mentioned, and had a delicious, healthy egg-white, asparagus, mushroom and Swiss breakfast sandwich, on a whole-wheat "skinny" bagel.
I missed Chris a little bit, because it was just me and my smart phone to talk to there.
Still, I wandered toward the Embarcadero in my uber-comfy running shoes, hoping to find a little cafe to grab some scrambled eggs. All the places I passed simply sell delicious, dense breakfast sandwiches. I walked into the Ferry Building where there is an organic market and bought a green shake... wandered to Blue Bottle and got some coffee, and eventually sat down at a communal table outside Book Passage to ponder my options. I do need to eat real food at some point.
There was a tall, thin man already sitting there reading newspapers, a couple backpacks sitting next to him. He greeted me cheerfully, said his name was Chris, and we struck up a conversation.
Chris is a native San Franciscan, and so I picked his brain about the city sights. We agreed Alcatraz is intellectually interesting, but too closed in to be actual FUN. He highly recommended the zoo -it will be a lovely day today and he felt I ought to spend it outdoors. Since I am here for work, that isn't an option, but there is always next time.
I asked him where he would recommend I go for breakfast -someplace where I can get something healthy. He laughed and said he doesn't worry too much about healthy when it comes to food and reminded me that in CA, all the chain restaurants have to put calories on the menu, so that helps you with decisions, you know?
Then he said there was a great place to get a good breakfast sandwich, and they "have those skinny bagels, you know, the ones that are all wheat and like crackers almost??" and they are nice people there. He'd show me himself, but he was watching his friend's stuff for him.
His friend was off looking for change in the street. They needed 5 dollars to in order to do something. I'm not it sure what it was, he seemed to gloss over that and it wasn't my business to inquire.
So we chatted on quite a bit, Chris pointing out the news from yesterday's paper, until his friend returned. His friend, Marty, looked really tired and out of it. He was short a dollar-fifty for whatever it was they needed to do. Marty showed me a paper and asked if the bank would accept it for ID. I said I'm not from CA, so I don't know what the banks need for ID, and Chris got impatient with him and said he'd go with him to make sure it was okay.
So Chris picked up his backpack and reminded me to check out that bagel place he told me about. Off they went to look for cans and more dropped change.
I headed off, too, and located the bagel place he mentioned, and had a delicious, healthy egg-white, asparagus, mushroom and Swiss breakfast sandwich, on a whole-wheat "skinny" bagel.
I missed Chris a little bit, because it was just me and my smart phone to talk to there.
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