For those of you who know me, I love my coffee hot and my iced tea cold. There is nothing worse than a tepid beverage when you want it in its prime condition. Now that Christmas is over, my lukewarmness about a lot of things needs to change.
I am definitely finding that working continues to interfere with my personal life. housekeeping habits, eating/exercise endeavors and other vital areas to being healthy, organized and in control. What I've come to realize is that I need to get over it because I have to work and I am certainly not in a position to hire someone to organize my life, clean my house, cook my food and other such luxuries. Besides, there is something gratifying (YES, GRATIFYING) about doing those things for oneself and the sense of satisfaction it brings.
There is a new Planet Fitness opening about a 2 minute drive from my home. This is very good news because I have been floundering around regarding running, sort of making it out here and there, maybe...if there's time and the stars are aligned and the weather is right. It's not that I don't WANT to do it, it is that there always seems to be a host of urgent matters in line in front of it. By joining the new gym, I have put to rest the problem of being inconsistent, lukewarm about exercise. My greatest challenge is that once I get home, it is difficult to "escape" again because the kids need my attention, or household tasks that have piled up distract me.
My plan is on Tuesdays and Thursdays (as set, It-Must-Happen days) to go right to the gym and run before even going home. I will then either add an additional day at the gym or try to get out in the fresh air 1-2 days, for a total of 3-4 days a week of exercise). This is new for me and I am hoping it reinvigorates my zeal for running, which I had developed over the summer. I am planning on running the Ovarian Cancer 5K again in September 2012, then running the bridge, a 10K that takes place in November. With continued lukewarm action, these goals are worthless because I will not be ready to do it.
On to food. I am certainly guilty of lukewarm behaviors here. I tend to eat like a crazed ape, then penitently eat properly for a couple of days, or a week, before a social occasion or bad day lure me back into my carboholic ways. Clearly, Christmas hasn't exactly been a help in that area. I've fed not only my soul, but my body with all of the richest of things. :-) Tis' no longer the season so it is time to get a grip and start fueling a machine!
And cleaning, organizing, etc. They are also on my list of lukewarm ventures. My notorious inconsistence is something I am truly eager to end once and for all. I can read all the Better Homes and Gardens issues I like, but reading, magic and wishing do not make one's home a place of order and cleanliness. I sense more purging will be needed, along with battling my case of Dropsy to the death.
So here I am, on the brink of a New Year, a true "season of change" in which I can become "HOT" and pursue things with fervor until I accomplish them. I am starting now, because waiting until 1/1/12 is really just another way of being lukewarm.
Best wishes for a New Year filled with obtainable goals that you find yourself hotly pursuing. I know I am excited and hopeful about all the great things ahead of me in 2012.
Monday, December 26, 2011
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
CARBOHOLISM and EXCUSES
"I don’t really understand myself, for I want to do what is right, but I don’t do it. Instead, I do what I hate." - ROMANS 7:15 (NLT)
Paul's lament in Romans 7:15 brings some relief to me, as I think of him. The apostle Paul, confronted by Jesus Himself on the road to Damascus, radically and suddenly converted on the spot. If he could write about such struggles, surely a weakling such as myself shares in his difficulty.
My main struggle at present is with consistency, or the lack thereof. I have been eating anything and everything I want, with gusto, whenever I feel like it. That's not OK. Accompanying this carboholic rut is the lack of discipline about making and sticking to a running schedule. Foolishness that. I was well on my way to becoming a real runner, possibly even a thin one.
I ran a 5K on 9/10. Here I am on 10/12, barely a month later, eating like my old self and losing my running mojo with each passing week of hardly exercising. All that effort and ground gained, slowly slipping away. Loss of focus makes all things fuzzy does it not?
It would be easy to blame this turn of events on my return to work, or the crazy nature of our household commitments, but in good conscience I cannot do this. I am always trumpeting the promise of Philippians 4:13 (I can do ALL things through Christ who gives me strength.) so I can't go blaming my own laziness and lack of self-control on anything but myself. As Joyce Meyer says, " If you can't take authority over a piece of pie, how are you going to resist the devil?" God has already equipped me to make the changes needed. I just need to stop being stubborn and self-reliant.
If I am to be the Temple of the Holy Spirit, I certainly can't sit idly by tossing pumpkin spice mini cookies down my gullet and lament about my current condition. I hate it while I am doing it, even though it tastes great. Then I roam around a short time later, rustling through cupboards in the hopes of trying something else to sate my sweet tooth. I know it is wrong. I know it is not beneficial. Yet I do it. Just like Paul.
So here I am keeping myself honest by saying a few things about what will happen before I write again to my blogosphere world.
1. I will pack my lunch for work every day. It will include healthy things and no junk. I will then actually EAT said lunch instead of whatever junk I come across.
2. I will run 2-3x per week (no excuses!) and walk at least 1-2x per week (even if a short stroll).
3. I will ask God for help instead of relying on my own strength to eat right and exercise.
4. I will go up into the attic and find some smaller clothes to use as a visual goal for getting back on track.
I am still seeking change, though this change is peculiar. It is change back to the change I had accomplished before I changed back to my old ways. A circular plot if you will. I'm kind of done with my circular ways and am moving forward in a straight line.
Enough rambling. Time to peel some carrots.
Paul's lament in Romans 7:15 brings some relief to me, as I think of him. The apostle Paul, confronted by Jesus Himself on the road to Damascus, radically and suddenly converted on the spot. If he could write about such struggles, surely a weakling such as myself shares in his difficulty.
My main struggle at present is with consistency, or the lack thereof. I have been eating anything and everything I want, with gusto, whenever I feel like it. That's not OK. Accompanying this carboholic rut is the lack of discipline about making and sticking to a running schedule. Foolishness that. I was well on my way to becoming a real runner, possibly even a thin one.
I ran a 5K on 9/10. Here I am on 10/12, barely a month later, eating like my old self and losing my running mojo with each passing week of hardly exercising. All that effort and ground gained, slowly slipping away. Loss of focus makes all things fuzzy does it not?
It would be easy to blame this turn of events on my return to work, or the crazy nature of our household commitments, but in good conscience I cannot do this. I am always trumpeting the promise of Philippians 4:13 (I can do ALL things through Christ who gives me strength.) so I can't go blaming my own laziness and lack of self-control on anything but myself. As Joyce Meyer says, " If you can't take authority over a piece of pie, how are you going to resist the devil?" God has already equipped me to make the changes needed. I just need to stop being stubborn and self-reliant.
If I am to be the Temple of the Holy Spirit, I certainly can't sit idly by tossing pumpkin spice mini cookies down my gullet and lament about my current condition. I hate it while I am doing it, even though it tastes great. Then I roam around a short time later, rustling through cupboards in the hopes of trying something else to sate my sweet tooth. I know it is wrong. I know it is not beneficial. Yet I do it. Just like Paul.
So here I am keeping myself honest by saying a few things about what will happen before I write again to my blogosphere world.
1. I will pack my lunch for work every day. It will include healthy things and no junk. I will then actually EAT said lunch instead of whatever junk I come across.
2. I will run 2-3x per week (no excuses!) and walk at least 1-2x per week (even if a short stroll).
3. I will ask God for help instead of relying on my own strength to eat right and exercise.
4. I will go up into the attic and find some smaller clothes to use as a visual goal for getting back on track.
I am still seeking change, though this change is peculiar. It is change back to the change I had accomplished before I changed back to my old ways. A circular plot if you will. I'm kind of done with my circular ways and am moving forward in a straight line.
Enough rambling. Time to peel some carrots.
Saturday, September 24, 2011
GOING THE DISTANCE
I've posted this photo so you can see I am a REAL woman, not skinny, not perfect, not quite fit (yet) but I did it and so can you!
Hello Gentle Readers,
It has been some time since I last wrote. This is mainly due to being gainfully employed, which I find has definitely interfered with my family life, my social life and my farting around on the internet life. Alas, as promised, I am here to report the details of my big race on 9/10.
For those of you who are new to the blog or didn't hear, I ran my first 5K on 9/10. This may sound like no big whoop, but for me, a former slug and celebrated potato, it is a huge deal. I began the Couch to 5K program around the beginning of July. I was hardly able to run the 60 second intervals during week 1, but amazingly, by the end of week 10, I was able to run a full 35 minutes without stopping.
About 5 weeks into the program, I decided to sign up for a 5K, which would not only make it more real, it would, in the words of a wise friend, make me look like a "big fat liar" if I didn't follow through. To be sure, I was very nervous because I was barely halfway through the program and was nowhere near 5K status.
Despite these fears, which haunted me right up until the week of the race, it was time to do it. My best prior to the race was 2.6 miles in 35 minutes. SLOW. Slow but respectable considering I am pretty hefty to begin with, have never exercised consistently and just had a baby in February. I had serious reservations about whether I would be able to finish because I'd only made the aforementioned time and distance, a full .5 below 5K.
RACE DAY! Overcast (thank you LORD!) and sort of low to mid-70's, it was really about as good as it gets for running weather in early September. I met with my friend Heather and her sister Leanne, who were also running the race. They are both younger, more fit and slimmer than I, so I knew that they'd get ahead of me and we'd planned to just meet up at the end, come what may. My mom, husband and the two little ones were there too - my own suburban entourage.
We were corralled by a buoyant arc of white, green and teal balloons, which was a starting gate of sorts. At the signal of the horn, we burst through the arc onto a beautiful path winding around the Memorial Hall building in Philadelphia. It was immediately evident to me that most of the others in the race were "real runners", because I soon found myself near the absolute end of the runner group, trailed by a woman with a jogging stroller and a few little kids in tow and a couple who consisted of a "real runner" and his lady friend, who seemed to be a beginner like me.
I was slightly disheartened by this because I had assumed that I would not be first in the race, but I didn't imagine being almost dead last either. Realizing that I needed to quickly dismiss this psychological hindrance, I told myself that it was much easier to run in the open without a lot of sweaty people surrounding me on all sides. Yeah, that was the ticket!
As I continued along the winding race trail, I forgot about the others and began to enjoy the feeling of - GASP - running a 5K race. I was running a 5K race! For real - with a balloon arc and a number pinned to my chest! I was a runner! Not one footfall of that race was walked. Not one.
With every epic journey, there are epic obstacles to accompany it. The main ones I encountered include:
*dodging muddy patches of muck left over from the flooding of Hurricane Irene (remember I am a faller)
*leaping (well, relatively) over bramble and branches littering the trail from the storm (remember I am a faller)
*a short, compact woman who kept running, then walking, then running again when she would see me out of the corner of her eye (as if to say - I'm not letting HER ahead of me)
*the mortification of having to ask the 1.5 mile walk participants which direction the runners had taken because I was THAT far behind them all
Despite these impediments, I finally spied that latex beacon ahead of me - the balloon arc! This was it! I was going to finish this thing. Pressing on with resolve, I slowed up as I triumphantly raised my arms and passed under the balloons. Unfortunately, I was greeted by my family and friends shouting and waving that I had to run another 75 yards or so ahead to the clock, which would record my time.
With a shout of "Oh crap!" I soldiered on, noting the time was at 33 minutes and some odd seconds. With that, I sprinted (as best as I could after all that running) ahead to the clock, determined to make it through in under 34 minutes. I sailed through at 33:50 - a personal best. I'd run .5 mile more than ever before in more than a minute less than my best time and distance.
Satisfied, sweaty, and slightly nauseous, I returned to my family for pictures and hearty congratulations and high fives. Since I was so near the end, they had run out of water, so we headed to the car and my dear husband set the course for my reward. About 25 minutes later, I was chowing down on a Pat's Cheesesteak from 9th and Passyunk. As everyone knows, this is fuel for bodies of all types. As I took a swig of my birch beer, I resolved to run it again next year.
Goal? Under 30 minutes next time. I am a work in progress after all.
Saturday, September 10, 2011
READY OR NOT, HERE IT CAME!
It turns out I CAN do all things (at once) through Christ who gives me strength. All praise and glory to Him who kept me glued together this week when my world was in a state of frantic change.
Like it or not, there were many changes that converged upon my life this past week (or 10 days). All of it was good, though much of it was difficult, stressful and bittersweet. You know how there's nothing, nothing, nothing going on, then suddenly EVERYTHING is going on at once? That was my week.
MOM FLIES THE NEST
I returned to work on 9/1, after being on maternity leave for 7 months. I hated to go and leave my beautiful babies, but my bank account insisted. No complaints, as it was by the provision and grace of God I stayed out that long. Lucky for me there are children at work to love and nurture too. I know it is my calling, so being there is really fine, though every day is a conscious effort to walk in love and speak in love. There is so much to be overwhelmed, frustrated, annoyed and offended by at school, but one of the aspects of my change-filled year is to decide to be happy. Ironically, one of the school psychologists has launched an "I Choose Happy" campaign. A lot of people think it is corny or some Pollyanna rhetoric, but it is working for me. I have peace in chaos and happiness in less-than-ideal situations these days.
CHICK FLIES THE NEST
We moved Em back to college for year 2 on 9/3/11. It was much smoother a process this time, both logistically and emotionally. I was teary in the car, but way less worried because Em has friends now and was so excited to be back at MSU. We moved her in quickly, enjoyed lunch with old friends and watched our just-about-grown baby settle into her new life. Ask me where the time went all you like, but I will have no reply. She's my little kindergartener in the pansy-print dress who happens to be a sophomore in college at the same time. I miss her very much, but she is growing and learning at a new level that wouldn't happen if she stayed here.
KINDERGARTEN CHICK
Sigh. It's not fair that in addition to going back to work and taking one baby to college I had to see my most spirited redhead off to kindergarten this week. She set off bravely, down a tooth I might add. She has that wide-eyed wonder when regaling us with stories about school at the dinner table. What a blessing! I hope her eagerness and passion for learning continues her whole life. No calls from the principal yet, so that's a plus too. My feisty little Lilybug makes me proud, vowing to intervene when she sees bullying and to help the teacher when she can. Love that kid.
EGGTOOTH
Would you believe in the midst of all this ballyhoo my sweet baby boy has gotten his first 2 teeth? He got the first in the spot where Lily lost her first a couple of weeks ago (SPOOKY!), followed by its next door neighbor a couple of days later. He is also wildly more active, wiggling and rolling his way wherever he wants to go. He is enjoying being spoiled at Grandma's during the day and has adjusted beautifully. What a sweet love he is, smiling and laughing 90% of his waking hours.
CHICKEN RUN
Today, after 11 weeks of training, I ran my first 5K. This event was so momentous and important that I will chronicle it under separate cover in another post. In short, I pulled off something today that NEVER would have been a desire of mine, let alone a possibility.
So what a week it has been! Changes nearly every day. Yet I feel strangely peaceful and fulfilled, despite the overwhelming nature of the week's events. I attribute this to the Peace that Passes Understanding, which is, I assure you, very real and very wonderful. Thank you Lord for being my Peace, my Strength, my Shield and my Redeemer.
Like it or not, there were many changes that converged upon my life this past week (or 10 days). All of it was good, though much of it was difficult, stressful and bittersweet. You know how there's nothing, nothing, nothing going on, then suddenly EVERYTHING is going on at once? That was my week.
MOM FLIES THE NEST
I returned to work on 9/1, after being on maternity leave for 7 months. I hated to go and leave my beautiful babies, but my bank account insisted. No complaints, as it was by the provision and grace of God I stayed out that long. Lucky for me there are children at work to love and nurture too. I know it is my calling, so being there is really fine, though every day is a conscious effort to walk in love and speak in love. There is so much to be overwhelmed, frustrated, annoyed and offended by at school, but one of the aspects of my change-filled year is to decide to be happy. Ironically, one of the school psychologists has launched an "I Choose Happy" campaign. A lot of people think it is corny or some Pollyanna rhetoric, but it is working for me. I have peace in chaos and happiness in less-than-ideal situations these days.
CHICK FLIES THE NEST
We moved Em back to college for year 2 on 9/3/11. It was much smoother a process this time, both logistically and emotionally. I was teary in the car, but way less worried because Em has friends now and was so excited to be back at MSU. We moved her in quickly, enjoyed lunch with old friends and watched our just-about-grown baby settle into her new life. Ask me where the time went all you like, but I will have no reply. She's my little kindergartener in the pansy-print dress who happens to be a sophomore in college at the same time. I miss her very much, but she is growing and learning at a new level that wouldn't happen if she stayed here.
KINDERGARTEN CHICK
Sigh. It's not fair that in addition to going back to work and taking one baby to college I had to see my most spirited redhead off to kindergarten this week. She set off bravely, down a tooth I might add. She has that wide-eyed wonder when regaling us with stories about school at the dinner table. What a blessing! I hope her eagerness and passion for learning continues her whole life. No calls from the principal yet, so that's a plus too. My feisty little Lilybug makes me proud, vowing to intervene when she sees bullying and to help the teacher when she can. Love that kid.
EGGTOOTH
Would you believe in the midst of all this ballyhoo my sweet baby boy has gotten his first 2 teeth? He got the first in the spot where Lily lost her first a couple of weeks ago (SPOOKY!), followed by its next door neighbor a couple of days later. He is also wildly more active, wiggling and rolling his way wherever he wants to go. He is enjoying being spoiled at Grandma's during the day and has adjusted beautifully. What a sweet love he is, smiling and laughing 90% of his waking hours.
CHICKEN RUN
Today, after 11 weeks of training, I ran my first 5K. This event was so momentous and important that I will chronicle it under separate cover in another post. In short, I pulled off something today that NEVER would have been a desire of mine, let alone a possibility.
So what a week it has been! Changes nearly every day. Yet I feel strangely peaceful and fulfilled, despite the overwhelming nature of the week's events. I attribute this to the Peace that Passes Understanding, which is, I assure you, very real and very wonderful. Thank you Lord for being my Peace, my Strength, my Shield and my Redeemer.
Saturday, August 20, 2011
SHAKE RATTLE AND ROLL
I've noticed a few things lately, namely less shake, rattle and roll. I mean the shaking of flab, the rattling of my old bones cracking and creaking every time I move or get up. And the rolls...oh the rolls - they are slowing shrinking...slowly.
Yeah, that was me, nonchalantly feeling my own butt cheek last week when I was doing my cool down walk in week 8 of C25K. Why you ask? Because I noticed as I was walking that it (my junk in the trunk) didn't seem to be shaking and wobbling with the same gelatinous fervor as before. It was the first time I'd realized this since having my son. I felt a little firm and toned even. Now I wouldn't say you could bounce a quarter off of any part of my body just yet, but my calves and quads have also definitely gained some firmness. My rolls are melting gradually, sort of like a great glacier of flab that erodes over time. I just hope it doesn't take a million years.
My new idea, still in the conceptual phase, is to do some form of arm and ab work on my non-running days. This is a fancy way of saying that I just didn't start yet, for no reason other than I am dreading and avoiding it. However, just like with running, it is something I may find pleasantly useful and productive once I begin. I am not a gym person, nor will I ever be, so I intend to milk the most out of my Comcast fees and use the Exercise TV Yoga, etc. I located on there some months ago.
It is surreal to see physical change begin to mirror the changes you experience on the inside. I feel better and more confident, and I am, albeit slowly, beginning to look different too. Now if I could just tame my inner carboholic, I would really be in business.
Stay sweaty my friends.
Sunday, August 14, 2011
BECOMING
"See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland." Isaiah 43:19
SATURDAY - 8/13/11
Fear, doubt, frustration. Today they were hounding me. I am still on my personal mission to change several key areas of my life including my diet, fitness, housekeeping habits/organization and spiritual development. I like to keep my posts positive, but I am sharing my reality, which has been one of unrest and intermittent pessimism in the past week or so.
SATURDAY - 8/13/11
Fear, doubt, frustration. Today they were hounding me. I am still on my personal mission to change several key areas of my life including my diet, fitness, housekeeping habits/organization and spiritual development. I like to keep my posts positive, but I am sharing my reality, which has been one of unrest and intermittent pessimism in the past week or so.
I woke up today knowing I was supposed to do my run. I could have done it yesterday but my sore knee has been a bit annoying. For those who aren't aware, I bit the pavement pretty hard on 8/3 while on vacation. For those of you who live under a rock, I am a celebrated faller. I was in National Harbor, MD and was doing week 7, day 3 of C25K when I stumbled on some shallow stairs down by the waterfront. My left knee slammed down on a metal grate surrounding a tree and looked like someone put a panini press to it. It was a series of scabby stripes for at least a week. That put me behind in my training for the 5K I am doing on 9/10. It is also when I started allowing fear, doubt and frustration to start nipping at my heels.
I did NOT want to go this morning. I was tired, feeling generally slow, heavy, incapable and ridiculous. I went, and struggled hard for the last 10 minutes or so of the 28 minute run interval today. I ran past a lady in a wheelchair and another shuffling along Bank Avenue with her walker, which made me feel both pathetic and inspired at the same time. I mean, if women with ambulatory issues who are almost 3 times my age get get out and about, surely my pitiful behind could do the session today right? I just felt fat, foolish and defeated today. It wasn't fun. It also isn't the only area I've been having concern with lately.
I return to work full time on 9/1 and have had mounting worries that I won't be able to maintain or finish anything I've started. Here's my list of things I am currently fretting over:
* Leaving my beautiful babies and going back to the job.
* Finishing the C25K program with enough endurance to run and complete my race on 9/10
* Finishing the cleaning/organizing of my house before 9/1 so that I am not living like a slob and being overwhelmed the whole school year with my own inability to keep things neat and organized.
* Not losing all the weight I'd like, getting down to an ideal/healthy weight and size.
* Slipping out of the habit of doing my devotions and bible study due to a lack of discipline and hectic schedule once back to work.
* Not having enough time and energy to give my kids and husband all the attention they deserve when working again full time.
I am usually not a person who suffers from a case of "I Can't". I get excited and optimistic when doing something new and look forward to becoming better and achieving something. Imagine - my Teacher Nightmares haven't even started yet (typically late August they begin - and yes - I mean real nightmares of all the mishaps and problems a teacher can encounter). Here I am with 2 whole weeks left of summer and I'm worrying myself silly.
All this to say that I got to thinking about the concept of "becoming" and how it is a process. My house is neater than it was 6 months ago. My fitness level is much better too than it was only 8 weeks ago. My spiritual life is much better due to almost daily quiet time in the Word (striving for daily). I am getting to spend time with my children and just be their mom and have fun. All these are good things - me becoming better than I was before.
It is true what they say - there's always room for improvement. As long as I continue the process of becoming, I will vow to feel good about any small step in the right direction.
It is true what they say - there's always room for improvement. As long as I continue the process of becoming, I will vow to feel good about any small step in the right direction.
Saturday, July 30, 2011
LITERALLY AND FIGURATIVELY
This whole change thing is an uphill battle. I know that's cliche' but it is - literally and figuratively. There's a hill that rises at the end of Bank Avenue along the Delaware River that I had avoided at all costs until about 2 weeks ago. I had memories of my childhood, trying to pedal my bicycle up that hill and remember feeling spent and nearly-defeated each time I tried it. Besides, why would I run up a hill when there are plenty of other perfectly good streets that are level?
On the day I first went up the hill on the C25K program, I had been fantasizing about being able to wear a sports bra or sport tank and running shorts to go out on my training days. At present, this is quite impossible for aesthetic and practical reasons. Firstly, though I don't care much what people think, it just isn't right for a woman of my particular girth to trot around in a sports bra. Really - like not right at all. I wistfully hope that someday I will be able to do so, but it isn't time yet. Secondly, running shorts (or any shorts) are too short and result in what I can only describe as a dreadful bunching up of fabric that results in chub rub. I would love to wear shorts to run because of the heat, but yoga-pant capris are most practical, yielding the least friction. (See my previous post from 7/14 for the details on what chub rub is and why it is a problem.)
So in the middle of my fantasy about the Future Me in the running outfit that would make me look and feel like a real runner, I see The Hill. Just up yonder, it gently slopes upward, taunting me and challenging me to take it on. I was in the midst of a "run" interval when this happened. Unswervingly, I began my ascent. Go big or go home right. I wasn't going to walk it.
At that very moment of decision, like a beacon of bronzed fruition, I spied her at the top of the hill about to run down. It was her! Future Me. Descending the hill easily in the very outfit of my aforementioned fantasy, she positively glowed, pounding the pavement with finesse and confidence. WOW. It was a cosmic moment - the Future Me passing by the Current Me. As I puffed up the hill past her, I thought to myself "someday that will be me". I didn't feel bad about myself at all at that moment. I felt excited, energized, hopeful. That in and of itself is a HUGE change for me. I used to look at girls like that and feel inferior, jealous and hopelessly stuck in a zaftig body. Oddly, it was an unexpected change, not one I'd planned or sought. Perhaps the best kind of change.
And as she gracefully bounded by me, I had a new fantasy. Perhaps as she passed me, she felt good about herself and thought "that used to be me". Maybe she remembered her first days and weeks of healthful exercise and was proud of just how far she'd come.
On the day I first went up the hill on the C25K program, I had been fantasizing about being able to wear a sports bra or sport tank and running shorts to go out on my training days. At present, this is quite impossible for aesthetic and practical reasons. Firstly, though I don't care much what people think, it just isn't right for a woman of my particular girth to trot around in a sports bra. Really - like not right at all. I wistfully hope that someday I will be able to do so, but it isn't time yet. Secondly, running shorts (or any shorts) are too short and result in what I can only describe as a dreadful bunching up of fabric that results in chub rub. I would love to wear shorts to run because of the heat, but yoga-pant capris are most practical, yielding the least friction. (See my previous post from 7/14 for the details on what chub rub is and why it is a problem.)
So in the middle of my fantasy about the Future Me in the running outfit that would make me look and feel like a real runner, I see The Hill. Just up yonder, it gently slopes upward, taunting me and challenging me to take it on. I was in the midst of a "run" interval when this happened. Unswervingly, I began my ascent. Go big or go home right. I wasn't going to walk it.
At that very moment of decision, like a beacon of bronzed fruition, I spied her at the top of the hill about to run down. It was her! Future Me. Descending the hill easily in the very outfit of my aforementioned fantasy, she positively glowed, pounding the pavement with finesse and confidence. WOW. It was a cosmic moment - the Future Me passing by the Current Me. As I puffed up the hill past her, I thought to myself "someday that will be me". I didn't feel bad about myself at all at that moment. I felt excited, energized, hopeful. That in and of itself is a HUGE change for me. I used to look at girls like that and feel inferior, jealous and hopelessly stuck in a zaftig body. Oddly, it was an unexpected change, not one I'd planned or sought. Perhaps the best kind of change.
And as she gracefully bounded by me, I had a new fantasy. Perhaps as she passed me, she felt good about herself and thought "that used to be me". Maybe she remembered her first days and weeks of healthful exercise and was proud of just how far she'd come.
Sunday, July 24, 2011
THE BEAUTY OF PERSPECTIVE
Boy have I gotten some new perspective these last few months. It has come to school me and reshape my thinking on things both big and small. This shift in perspective has come mainly because I was open to it, expecting it due to the choices I have made recently. As you may already know, these choices have been physical, intellectual and spiritual.
I've found myself thinking a lot lately about things related to exercise. Mainly this is due to the fact that I have actually been exercising lately. THIS JUST IN: I've decided I need to buy an armband for my iPod. I formerly thought this was sporty flamboyance when I saw people with those contraptions strapped about their arms. However, I've discovered when you actually sweat vis-Ã -vis exercise, your hands get too sweaty to hold an iPod. Similarly, between your collarbone and bra strap is no good either. Let's not mention any other crevices in that area that could seriously short circuit your electronics if you sweat profusely enough.
Another formerly ridiculous notion is that of getting some type of treadmill or exercise device. I was thinking of putting it in the attic. You know, for the winter months when it is too inclement to exercise outside. Yes Gentle Reader, I have now come to realize that you probably can actually exert yourself in the wintertime rather than lumbering about in fleecy nightclothes eating as though hibernation was nigh. Should my ship fail to come in and prohibit such a purchase, I will make do, but still exercise throughout the cold season.
On to things less carnal now. I recently finished reading Long Way Gone: Memoirs of a Boy Soldier by Ishmael Beah. See the link for in-depth details. However, the book chronicles the journey of a young Sierra Leonean boy as he goes from a 12-year-old trying to outrun the war, to a boy soldier (under duress), to a rehabilitated young adult. It is a choice book for the 10th grade summer reading so I had to read it to prepare for the fall. As I read it, I came to tears and winced more than once and felt strongly that EVERY American should read this book. The luxury of boredom, the apathy regarding our freedom and the general lack of gratitude for the goodness of living in America are my reasons for saying so. The unimaginable horrors Beah experienced, and the simple, eloquently heartbreaking way in which he conveys his story truly moved me. It shifted my own perspective about how grateful I should be to live in a place where I only have to read about someone else's account of such misery. I really have so very much more to be grateful for than I had previously been conscious of.
This naturally brings me to my final area of perspective, the spiritual. I have been faithfully (no pun intended) taking time to read from devotionals and the Bible at least 5-6 days a week in order to get a deeper understanding of who God is and in turn, who I am in Christ Jesus. I read a chapter from Psalms and Proverbs a day, along with working on the book of Acts at present. I find that my spirit and attitude is more reflective and grateful, and my interactions with those around me more pleasant and understanding as a result. When I was simply attending church services and then leaving God in his little Sunday/Wednesday box, I was limiting the transformative power He so freely gives if we only seek Him. I want to get to 7 days a week without fail, though life and responsibilities sometimes cause the day to run away from me. I'm still working on that.
This habit, as well as those of good eating, exercise and reading vs. television are ones I desperately desire to maintain once I return to the full time grind in September. With great excitement and interest I look forward to how these habits will impact my effectiveness on the job and at home. Here's hoping all of these habits together will give me enough of a shift in perspective to overlook or laugh off the inevitable frustrations and challenges of working full time and being a mom. I am savoring these last weeks of "freedom" and am so very grateful to God that my circumstances allow me the time and luxury of self-development and improvement.
Perspective is indeed, a beautiful thing.
I've found myself thinking a lot lately about things related to exercise. Mainly this is due to the fact that I have actually been exercising lately. THIS JUST IN: I've decided I need to buy an armband for my iPod. I formerly thought this was sporty flamboyance when I saw people with those contraptions strapped about their arms. However, I've discovered when you actually sweat vis-Ã -vis exercise, your hands get too sweaty to hold an iPod. Similarly, between your collarbone and bra strap is no good either. Let's not mention any other crevices in that area that could seriously short circuit your electronics if you sweat profusely enough.
Another formerly ridiculous notion is that of getting some type of treadmill or exercise device. I was thinking of putting it in the attic. You know, for the winter months when it is too inclement to exercise outside. Yes Gentle Reader, I have now come to realize that you probably can actually exert yourself in the wintertime rather than lumbering about in fleecy nightclothes eating as though hibernation was nigh. Should my ship fail to come in and prohibit such a purchase, I will make do, but still exercise throughout the cold season.
On to things less carnal now. I recently finished reading Long Way Gone: Memoirs of a Boy Soldier by Ishmael Beah. See the link for in-depth details. However, the book chronicles the journey of a young Sierra Leonean boy as he goes from a 12-year-old trying to outrun the war, to a boy soldier (under duress), to a rehabilitated young adult. It is a choice book for the 10th grade summer reading so I had to read it to prepare for the fall. As I read it, I came to tears and winced more than once and felt strongly that EVERY American should read this book. The luxury of boredom, the apathy regarding our freedom and the general lack of gratitude for the goodness of living in America are my reasons for saying so. The unimaginable horrors Beah experienced, and the simple, eloquently heartbreaking way in which he conveys his story truly moved me. It shifted my own perspective about how grateful I should be to live in a place where I only have to read about someone else's account of such misery. I really have so very much more to be grateful for than I had previously been conscious of.
This naturally brings me to my final area of perspective, the spiritual. I have been faithfully (no pun intended) taking time to read from devotionals and the Bible at least 5-6 days a week in order to get a deeper understanding of who God is and in turn, who I am in Christ Jesus. I read a chapter from Psalms and Proverbs a day, along with working on the book of Acts at present. I find that my spirit and attitude is more reflective and grateful, and my interactions with those around me more pleasant and understanding as a result. When I was simply attending church services and then leaving God in his little Sunday/Wednesday box, I was limiting the transformative power He so freely gives if we only seek Him. I want to get to 7 days a week without fail, though life and responsibilities sometimes cause the day to run away from me. I'm still working on that.
This habit, as well as those of good eating, exercise and reading vs. television are ones I desperately desire to maintain once I return to the full time grind in September. With great excitement and interest I look forward to how these habits will impact my effectiveness on the job and at home. Here's hoping all of these habits together will give me enough of a shift in perspective to overlook or laugh off the inevitable frustrations and challenges of working full time and being a mom. I am savoring these last weeks of "freedom" and am so very grateful to God that my circumstances allow me the time and luxury of self-development and improvement.
Perspective is indeed, a beautiful thing.
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
TIMING IS EVERYTHING
As a recovering Queen of I'm Gonna, I registered for my first 5K today. I was toying with the idea of doing one when my C25K training ends at the end of August. Toying = fearfully considering! I mean - just because I did the training somewhat anonymously on the streets of my little town doesn't mean I am ready to do a real 5K with real runners and a painfully real audience. That's a big whoop you know.
But as God's timing would have it, I happened by a digital billboard on Friday night on I95 South in Philadelphia. It is one of the ones that flashes alternating advertisements for sporting events, liquor, Tastykakes and the like. It just so happened that I saw it when the NOCC (National Ovarian Cancer Coalition) had an advertisement for a 5K on 9/10/11. I knew when I saw this I absolutely had to do it, despite my fear. I also feel it is no accident that my training in the 10 week program will have just ended about 2 weeks prior to this race. Convenient timing right?
Then there's the meaningfulness of the whole ordeal. My dear friend at work lost her mom to Ovarian Cancer several years back. I realized that if I endeavored to follow through with, it had to be for a personal cause like that. I told my friend yesterday that I planned to do it, which "makes it real" according to another wise friend of mine. Once you let the cat out of the bag and blab around what you are planning, everyone is hopelessly covered in cat hair, so to speak. Another friend similarly advised me that if you make a fanfare about the fact that you are doing a race, it makes you more likely to follow through lest you appear a big fat liar. Being big and fat is one thing, but a liar - that's just not OK.
Having the expectations of other people pressing on you is sometimes very helpful, and very necessary to complete a task that we would otherwise hem and haw over. When we privately make promises to ourselves, they often go unfulfilled because of our own lack of discipline, paralyzing fear or sheer laziness. In this case, I need the people around me to be expecting something to happen so that I am more likely to muster the moxie to do it.
For the record, I ordered an XL T-shirt for the race (snugly my current size), which is about 6 weeks away. I am hoping to be swimming in it when I run in September. My wish is for the spectators to question the floppy sloppy sack of a shirt that this accidental athlete dons when she passes by, not quite fleet of foot, but not quite a bumbling disaster either.
Alas, I continue to stumble forward into my awkwardly beautiful season of change. :-)
But as God's timing would have it, I happened by a digital billboard on Friday night on I95 South in Philadelphia. It is one of the ones that flashes alternating advertisements for sporting events, liquor, Tastykakes and the like. It just so happened that I saw it when the NOCC (National Ovarian Cancer Coalition) had an advertisement for a 5K on 9/10/11. I knew when I saw this I absolutely had to do it, despite my fear. I also feel it is no accident that my training in the 10 week program will have just ended about 2 weeks prior to this race. Convenient timing right?
Then there's the meaningfulness of the whole ordeal. My dear friend at work lost her mom to Ovarian Cancer several years back. I realized that if I endeavored to follow through with, it had to be for a personal cause like that. I told my friend yesterday that I planned to do it, which "makes it real" according to another wise friend of mine. Once you let the cat out of the bag and blab around what you are planning, everyone is hopelessly covered in cat hair, so to speak. Another friend similarly advised me that if you make a fanfare about the fact that you are doing a race, it makes you more likely to follow through lest you appear a big fat liar. Being big and fat is one thing, but a liar - that's just not OK.
Having the expectations of other people pressing on you is sometimes very helpful, and very necessary to complete a task that we would otherwise hem and haw over. When we privately make promises to ourselves, they often go unfulfilled because of our own lack of discipline, paralyzing fear or sheer laziness. In this case, I need the people around me to be expecting something to happen so that I am more likely to muster the moxie to do it.
For the record, I ordered an XL T-shirt for the race (snugly my current size), which is about 6 weeks away. I am hoping to be swimming in it when I run in September. My wish is for the spectators to question the floppy sloppy sack of a shirt that this accidental athlete dons when she passes by, not quite fleet of foot, but not quite a bumbling disaster either.
Alas, I continue to stumble forward into my awkwardly beautiful season of change. :-)
Thursday, July 14, 2011
INCARCERATION - 8 WAYS BEING OVERWEIGHT IS LIKE PRISON
I FEEL LIKE BUSTIN' LOOSE. (CLICK ME)
I'm bustin' out. No, not of my clothes, of the joint. The Clink. The Slammer. The Big House. I'm done being confined, squeezed, stifled and generally held back by my weight.
It occurred to me today that being overweight is a lot like being imprisoned. Here are 8 ways:
8. Seats. I mean, I once got stuck in an antique rocking chair, made in days when people were generally smaller, but still - that ain't right. Also bistro chairs, airplane seats, other places like that you'd want to sit.
7. Clearance sales. It seems like the only people getting a deal on clearance are the smaller ones. Never any XXL sizes left, all just mediums, smalls and such.
6. Buffet lines. Who wants to be the chunky girl loading up her plate at a buffet? People look at you. They take note of your dinner and give haughty looks (real or imagined). Besides, they are diet suicide, designed to keep you in the "Big House".
5. Stylish clothes. Just because I am bigger than other people doesn't mean I am in my 60's looking for giant floral prints and polyester for a cruise. I want to be cute and stylish like my other teacher friends who shop at the LOFT and look adorable all the time. I know that may sound vain, but who doesn't want to look cute and stylish?
4. Shoes. Have you tried wearing skimpy pancake flats and being overweight? It hurts! Your feet! Your knees! Ouch! And it would be nice to wear heels without feeling like I'm putting 1000 psi on the ball of my foot.
3. Mammograms. I had my first one last year and they had to push that bad boy - er, girl - pretty hard. Would it hurt less if there were less to press? We'll see.
2. Bathing suits. How many times did I sit on the beach in some skirty bathing suit that was pretending to hide something and wish I was frolicking and walking confidently on the sand by the water? How many times did I map the shortest route from my chair to the pool so nobody would see? Too many to count. SIDE NOTE: I'm realistic. I've had 3 kids so even if I am never bikini material (which is ok with me) I would like something less matronly than my Mom-mom's suits I remember from the late 1970's in Wildwood.
1. Chub rub. For those of you who aren't acquainted with the term, chub rub is when your thighs engage in thigh-to-thigh combat, generating friction and eventually brutal chafing that make your romantic strolls and other walking unbearably unbearable. Truthfully, no amount of powder or gel can solve it. The only solution is some type of Spanx-like contraption, which takes the "breezy and free" feeling of wearing a skirt in the summer out of the equation.
I resolve to continue to eat and move healthfully so that my confinement is limited and I serve a reduced sentence. Good behavior will lead to my release. I can feel it!
I'm bustin' out. No, not of my clothes, of the joint. The Clink. The Slammer. The Big House. I'm done being confined, squeezed, stifled and generally held back by my weight.
It occurred to me today that being overweight is a lot like being imprisoned. Here are 8 ways:
8. Seats. I mean, I once got stuck in an antique rocking chair, made in days when people were generally smaller, but still - that ain't right. Also bistro chairs, airplane seats, other places like that you'd want to sit.
7. Clearance sales. It seems like the only people getting a deal on clearance are the smaller ones. Never any XXL sizes left, all just mediums, smalls and such.
6. Buffet lines. Who wants to be the chunky girl loading up her plate at a buffet? People look at you. They take note of your dinner and give haughty looks (real or imagined). Besides, they are diet suicide, designed to keep you in the "Big House".
5. Stylish clothes. Just because I am bigger than other people doesn't mean I am in my 60's looking for giant floral prints and polyester for a cruise. I want to be cute and stylish like my other teacher friends who shop at the LOFT and look adorable all the time. I know that may sound vain, but who doesn't want to look cute and stylish?
4. Shoes. Have you tried wearing skimpy pancake flats and being overweight? It hurts! Your feet! Your knees! Ouch! And it would be nice to wear heels without feeling like I'm putting 1000 psi on the ball of my foot.
3. Mammograms. I had my first one last year and they had to push that bad boy - er, girl - pretty hard. Would it hurt less if there were less to press? We'll see.
2. Bathing suits. How many times did I sit on the beach in some skirty bathing suit that was pretending to hide something and wish I was frolicking and walking confidently on the sand by the water? How many times did I map the shortest route from my chair to the pool so nobody would see? Too many to count. SIDE NOTE: I'm realistic. I've had 3 kids so even if I am never bikini material (which is ok with me) I would like something less matronly than my Mom-mom's suits I remember from the late 1970's in Wildwood.
1. Chub rub. For those of you who aren't acquainted with the term, chub rub is when your thighs engage in thigh-to-thigh combat, generating friction and eventually brutal chafing that make your romantic strolls and other walking unbearably unbearable. Truthfully, no amount of powder or gel can solve it. The only solution is some type of Spanx-like contraption, which takes the "breezy and free" feeling of wearing a skirt in the summer out of the equation.
I resolve to continue to eat and move healthfully so that my confinement is limited and I serve a reduced sentence. Good behavior will lead to my release. I can feel it!
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Friday, July 8, 2011
CLEANLINESS IS NEXT TO...
IMPOSSIBLE?
That's changing - slowly.
Laughter, music, reading aloud, sizzling food, preschool television, vacuum cleaner...I think those who know me know the foreign sound in my house.
I'm what they call a "messie", which is technically a cutsie way of saying a poor housekeeper, slob, what have you. I've never had a penchant for keeping a neat house. I want to. I've tried to. But you know what they say - "the spirit is willing but the mop is weak".
Don't get me wrong. I'm WAY better than I was when we first got married. Working and going to school at night while being a mom and a wife was just a lot at that time and things were perpetually disorganized. It would take days to tidy up and prepare for a time of hospitality or hosting a special occasion (which I enjoy so much) and would often result in much barking and shouting on my part. Reciprocal tears and scowls from my eldest and my husband (respectively) would be provided. By the time company arrived, we were so tired and cranky that we could scarcely enjoy the event.
Nowadays, we're much more easily able to tidy, though we are still recovering clutterbugs. I've begun a serious and massive purge of clutter since being home on maternity leave. Partly my nesting instinct must have kicked in, but partly my realization that this would be the largest chunk of time off I'd have until retirement in 20+ years lit a fire under me. I didn't want to be incarcerated by my own bad housekeeping habits any longer.
I have successfully cleaned out drawers that have been accumulating crap for 15+ years. I've bagged and donated enough clothes to outfit all the Duggars. I've trashed, yard-saled, eBayed and given stuff away like it was my job for the past several months. Guess what? The house is magically neater somehow. Not perfect, but neater.
I have been loosely following the Flylady, who helps by giving a systematic approach to decluttering and keeping house on a rotating schedule. I've yet to perfect her system or follow her directions to the letter, but her decluttering inspiration has worked wonders thus far. She talks at length about CHAOS (Can't Have Anyone Over Syndrome). I don't want CHAOS because I want to use my home and devastatingly deft culinary skills to bless others. I want my house to be filled with the laughter and chatter of friends old and new.
Today I cleaned my 5-year-old's room. She helped a little when I started but then went to storytime with her Grandma. While you may think it best to make a child stay the whole time until it is done, you'd be wrong. You can't throw stuff out and move things around nearly as effectively with a little person poring over every broken toy and useless article of junk. She had a stake in straightening up but then I was able to be ruthless once she left. This will be the last time I clean like that in her room EVER. She will be taught daily and weekly maintenance. This will force me to do the same in the rest of our home, lest I be a glaring hypocrite, which is not my desire.
I don't want my younger two to grow up thinking it is normal to have junk all over the floor and run around frantically when company is dropping by. This is a great mistake I made with my eldest, whose bedroom oft wafts the aroma of a high school locker room and looks like an episode of Hoarders. This is partly my fault for teaching her crisis cleaning instead of routine cleaning.
So while I still have a home that looks "lived in", I am endeavoring to have it be a place free of CHAOS without secret exploding closets of shame or bedrooms with doors that need closing to conceal great tempests of laundry. My children deserve to grow up having pride in their home and be able to invite friends to come over without worry of embarrassment.
As a team, a family of "picker uppers", we can do it. It is a habit we are forming and a change we are excited about. No more CHAOS for us.
That's changing - slowly.
Laughter, music, reading aloud, sizzling food, preschool television, vacuum cleaner...I think those who know me know the foreign sound in my house.
I'm what they call a "messie", which is technically a cutsie way of saying a poor housekeeper, slob, what have you. I've never had a penchant for keeping a neat house. I want to. I've tried to. But you know what they say - "the spirit is willing but the mop is weak".
Don't get me wrong. I'm WAY better than I was when we first got married. Working and going to school at night while being a mom and a wife was just a lot at that time and things were perpetually disorganized. It would take days to tidy up and prepare for a time of hospitality or hosting a special occasion (which I enjoy so much) and would often result in much barking and shouting on my part. Reciprocal tears and scowls from my eldest and my husband (respectively) would be provided. By the time company arrived, we were so tired and cranky that we could scarcely enjoy the event.
Nowadays, we're much more easily able to tidy, though we are still recovering clutterbugs. I've begun a serious and massive purge of clutter since being home on maternity leave. Partly my nesting instinct must have kicked in, but partly my realization that this would be the largest chunk of time off I'd have until retirement in 20+ years lit a fire under me. I didn't want to be incarcerated by my own bad housekeeping habits any longer.
I have successfully cleaned out drawers that have been accumulating crap for 15+ years. I've bagged and donated enough clothes to outfit all the Duggars. I've trashed, yard-saled, eBayed and given stuff away like it was my job for the past several months. Guess what? The house is magically neater somehow. Not perfect, but neater.
I have been loosely following the Flylady, who helps by giving a systematic approach to decluttering and keeping house on a rotating schedule. I've yet to perfect her system or follow her directions to the letter, but her decluttering inspiration has worked wonders thus far. She talks at length about CHAOS (Can't Have Anyone Over Syndrome). I don't want CHAOS because I want to use my home and devastatingly deft culinary skills to bless others. I want my house to be filled with the laughter and chatter of friends old and new.
Today I cleaned my 5-year-old's room. She helped a little when I started but then went to storytime with her Grandma. While you may think it best to make a child stay the whole time until it is done, you'd be wrong. You can't throw stuff out and move things around nearly as effectively with a little person poring over every broken toy and useless article of junk. She had a stake in straightening up but then I was able to be ruthless once she left. This will be the last time I clean like that in her room EVER. She will be taught daily and weekly maintenance. This will force me to do the same in the rest of our home, lest I be a glaring hypocrite, which is not my desire.
I don't want my younger two to grow up thinking it is normal to have junk all over the floor and run around frantically when company is dropping by. This is a great mistake I made with my eldest, whose bedroom oft wafts the aroma of a high school locker room and looks like an episode of Hoarders. This is partly my fault for teaching her crisis cleaning instead of routine cleaning.
So while I still have a home that looks "lived in", I am endeavoring to have it be a place free of CHAOS without secret exploding closets of shame or bedrooms with doors that need closing to conceal great tempests of laundry. My children deserve to grow up having pride in their home and be able to invite friends to come over without worry of embarrassment.
As a team, a family of "picker uppers", we can do it. It is a habit we are forming and a change we are excited about. No more CHAOS for us.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
NECESSARY FRIVOLITY
Most of us who wish to exact change in our lives think that it somehow requires us to become no-nonsense, no-frills, anti-pleasure or even self-punishing. This is not the case. While change of any type will require a new kind of thinking and some serious self-discipline, it is important to remember that indulgence and frivolity can and should play a role.
Consider the humble cocoa bean. It is one of my favorite items in God's creation and I don't often go more than a day without a morsel of chocolate. My almost-nightly ritual includes dinner, then a square of 70% cocoa chocolate. Just one (usually) - enough to sate my inner chocolate beast. I'm still down on the scale, exercising, feeling healthier and enjoying my little bitter-velvety splurge.
What about coffee? Some people swear it off altogether, even though they enjoy it. Why not a cup of decaf, or a half-caf, or even a small regular? And wine, and bacon and all those fine things. Enjoy a bit rather than swearing off all things you love.
Of course I talk about food first, but food is not the only place necessary frivolity resides. What about an hour or two of brain-candy television? A window-shopping trip to someplace expensive? An afternoon dessert date with an old friend? All permissible and beneficial. You may feel these seem to oppose my desire to use my time more wisely, alas, they are integral to being successful in any change you wish to exact in your life. If all other time is well-managed, these pleasures can fit into the busiest of schedules.
A little pleasure, frivolity, indulgence, whatever you will, are so important because they give you pause in a world that moves at what seems light speed. We all need pause. Selah. A moment of breath to refocus our minds and hearts.
Now go get some chocolate. And savor just 1 square.
Consider the humble cocoa bean. It is one of my favorite items in God's creation and I don't often go more than a day without a morsel of chocolate. My almost-nightly ritual includes dinner, then a square of 70% cocoa chocolate. Just one (usually) - enough to sate my inner chocolate beast. I'm still down on the scale, exercising, feeling healthier and enjoying my little bitter-velvety splurge.
What about coffee? Some people swear it off altogether, even though they enjoy it. Why not a cup of decaf, or a half-caf, or even a small regular? And wine, and bacon and all those fine things. Enjoy a bit rather than swearing off all things you love.
Of course I talk about food first, but food is not the only place necessary frivolity resides. What about an hour or two of brain-candy television? A window-shopping trip to someplace expensive? An afternoon dessert date with an old friend? All permissible and beneficial. You may feel these seem to oppose my desire to use my time more wisely, alas, they are integral to being successful in any change you wish to exact in your life. If all other time is well-managed, these pleasures can fit into the busiest of schedules.
A little pleasure, frivolity, indulgence, whatever you will, are so important because they give you pause in a world that moves at what seems light speed. We all need pause. Selah. A moment of breath to refocus our minds and hearts.
Now go get some chocolate. And savor just 1 square.
Friday, July 1, 2011
IT'S ALL IN YOUR HEAD
"A wise man changes his mind, a fool never." ~Spanish Proverb
Outward change begins on the inside. Whether becoming more organized, more fit, less frivolous with time, less easily offended, a person needs a change of mind before anything can manifest itself. I recently downloaded As a Man Thinketh (1903) by James Allen to my Kindle. The title of the book is based upon Proverbs 23:7 "For as a man thinketh in his heart, so is he." I am also reading How to Live on 24 Hours a Day (1910) by Arnold Bennett. These 100+ year old texts are uncannily relevant and spoke to me in gripping ways as I read each. I was compelled as I read because I felt both of these could have been written about/to/for me. Indeed, the substance of a person's thoughts equates to the substance of a person's character, actions and life in general. I don't want to be junk - I want to be better.
The thrust of both works focuses on a person's ability to control the mind and focus on how to establish priorities. This is probably my greatest obstacle to finding success in the areas I am striving to change. There is a great difference between having an idea and experiencing a change of mind.
I am the Queen of Big Ideas. You know me, the one who is going to be more organized at home and school. The one who is really going to lose the weight and start exercising "this time". I'm the one who has lots of big plans and makes a good start, but nary a successful finish.
Allen says "(c)hange of diet will not help a man who will not change his thoughts". How true. If I don't start to view food differently, I will never eat healthfully consistently enough to see a change. He also says "(i)f you would protect your body, guard your mind. If you would renew your body, beautify your mind." WOW. That knocked me down. I have to get beyond my big ideas and make them a way of life, a philosophy. I can eat salads all the livelong day but if I view it as a punitive action for my food sins, rather than component of healthy change, it is not truly beneficial to me. I need new habits, which are birthed only when a habit of mind precedes.
This also goes for how we spend our time. How much time do I waste looking at rubbish on television or reading statuses on Facebook? Too much. How much time have I wasted losing and gaining the same pounds? Straightening up the same messes? SIGH. What a shame. No more. Bennett notes, quite accurately, that "if one cannot arrange that an income of twenty-four hours a day shall exactly cover all proper terms of expenditure, one does muddle one's life definitely." Muddle. That's one word for it. My chronic inability to manage my time effectively is the worst kind of sin, for we are allotted 24 hours each day, and can never regain lost, wasted or poorly-used time. My new endeavor having read this book, is to live consciously and intentionally (before just an idea I had) by making new habits.
If this blog entry seems like a bunch of heady mumbo-jumbo, that's because it is. I need to start in my head, to establish systems that allow me the right balance of pleasure, work and rest. I highly recommend these two short reads. They are hyperlinked above and I have found them to be catalysts for putting a defined point on the general ideas I have been having about a disciplined mind and good time management.
In practical terms, I publicly subject myself to scrutiny by confessing the following intended changes:
1. I will exercise a minimum of 5 times per week (3 - C25K sessions and 2 - walks with the family, yoga, etc.)
2. I will restrict my time on Facebook to once daily at most. YES ONCE. I may even skip a day. I don't really need to see all your thoughts or post all of mine all the time.
3. I will (Lord help me now) eat according to my Weight Watchers plan by logging every morsel. I will enjoy food as fuel for my body, not reserve to be stored up in various jiggly places.
4. I will engage at least 1 hour daily in study of beneficial things like the Bible, literature, poetry and the like.
5. I will not beat myself up if I fall short in any of the above areas, though I will strive to do my best.
I can do it. It's all in my head.
Outward change begins on the inside. Whether becoming more organized, more fit, less frivolous with time, less easily offended, a person needs a change of mind before anything can manifest itself. I recently downloaded As a Man Thinketh (1903) by James Allen to my Kindle. The title of the book is based upon Proverbs 23:7 "For as a man thinketh in his heart, so is he." I am also reading How to Live on 24 Hours a Day (1910) by Arnold Bennett. These 100+ year old texts are uncannily relevant and spoke to me in gripping ways as I read each. I was compelled as I read because I felt both of these could have been written about/to/for me. Indeed, the substance of a person's thoughts equates to the substance of a person's character, actions and life in general. I don't want to be junk - I want to be better.
The thrust of both works focuses on a person's ability to control the mind and focus on how to establish priorities. This is probably my greatest obstacle to finding success in the areas I am striving to change. There is a great difference between having an idea and experiencing a change of mind.
I am the Queen of Big Ideas. You know me, the one who is going to be more organized at home and school. The one who is really going to lose the weight and start exercising "this time". I'm the one who has lots of big plans and makes a good start, but nary a successful finish.
Allen says "(c)hange of diet will not help a man who will not change his thoughts". How true. If I don't start to view food differently, I will never eat healthfully consistently enough to see a change. He also says "(i)f you would protect your body, guard your mind. If you would renew your body, beautify your mind." WOW. That knocked me down. I have to get beyond my big ideas and make them a way of life, a philosophy. I can eat salads all the livelong day but if I view it as a punitive action for my food sins, rather than component of healthy change, it is not truly beneficial to me. I need new habits, which are birthed only when a habit of mind precedes.
This also goes for how we spend our time. How much time do I waste looking at rubbish on television or reading statuses on Facebook? Too much. How much time have I wasted losing and gaining the same pounds? Straightening up the same messes? SIGH. What a shame. No more. Bennett notes, quite accurately, that "if one cannot arrange that an income of twenty-four hours a day shall exactly cover all proper terms of expenditure, one does muddle one's life definitely." Muddle. That's one word for it. My chronic inability to manage my time effectively is the worst kind of sin, for we are allotted 24 hours each day, and can never regain lost, wasted or poorly-used time. My new endeavor having read this book, is to live consciously and intentionally (before just an idea I had) by making new habits.
If this blog entry seems like a bunch of heady mumbo-jumbo, that's because it is. I need to start in my head, to establish systems that allow me the right balance of pleasure, work and rest. I highly recommend these two short reads. They are hyperlinked above and I have found them to be catalysts for putting a defined point on the general ideas I have been having about a disciplined mind and good time management.
In practical terms, I publicly subject myself to scrutiny by confessing the following intended changes:
1. I will exercise a minimum of 5 times per week (3 - C25K sessions and 2 - walks with the family, yoga, etc.)
2. I will restrict my time on Facebook to once daily at most. YES ONCE. I may even skip a day. I don't really need to see all your thoughts or post all of mine all the time.
3. I will (Lord help me now) eat according to my Weight Watchers plan by logging every morsel. I will enjoy food as fuel for my body, not reserve to be stored up in various jiggly places.
4. I will engage at least 1 hour daily in study of beneficial things like the Bible, literature, poetry and the like.
5. I will not beat myself up if I fall short in any of the above areas, though I will strive to do my best.
I can do it. It's all in my head.
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
KEEPING UP APPEARANCES
I don't wear my glasses when I run. There are a few practical reasons. A few impractical too - actually irrational is a better word. It all works for me though.
I don't wear them firstly because they are cumbersome and seem to jiggle too much. If there's any jiggling on my person I CAN control, I shall. I also somehow believe that if I can't see clearly, other people can't see me lumbering about town. Besides, when I shed my glasses, I can only see the Big Picture more clearly. The river, the scenery, the neighborhoods become an entity rather than a series of smaller details. Much like my quest for change, where I don't want to become overwhelmed with the details, I can only see each step ahead of me without my glasses. When I look further, I see cohesive beauty.
When following the Podrunner tracks, I use the century-old alleyways in town to spare the public the image of my rubenesque figure enduring short bursts of running. I run with traffic on Bank Ave, so people will see my posterior, allowing me to be quasi-anonymous. Besides, the hypnotic boom-baba of my caboose is probably humorously relaxing. Alas, all this jocular self-deprecating is for show. I really don't care. I'm in my late 30's and know who I am. Whether I'm a zaftig booty-bearer running about or a slenderer version of same, I like me.
The secret to this is remembering how deceptive appearances can be. Just because someone is slim, or stylish, or wealthy, or in a lofty position in society's eyes means nothing. I am none of the previous descriptions, but live a life of joyful contentedness. How do I do that? Not easily, but prayerfully, reflectively.
It is best described in the book of 1 Samuel 16:7: "But the LORD said to Samuel, 'Do not consider his appearance or his height, for I have rejected him. The LORD does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart.' " With Christ in my heart, that's what God sees despite my imperfection, His Son. What a relief!
That's why I am striving to grow and improve spiritually and intellectually in addition to improving my physical shape. And should I fail to improve in the latter two, if my heart and soul are healthy, I am in excellent shape! . No matter how I may look to the world as I lope around town, I am supremely happy and healthy. That's invaluable.
I don't wear them firstly because they are cumbersome and seem to jiggle too much. If there's any jiggling on my person I CAN control, I shall. I also somehow believe that if I can't see clearly, other people can't see me lumbering about town. Besides, when I shed my glasses, I can only see the Big Picture more clearly. The river, the scenery, the neighborhoods become an entity rather than a series of smaller details. Much like my quest for change, where I don't want to become overwhelmed with the details, I can only see each step ahead of me without my glasses. When I look further, I see cohesive beauty.
When following the Podrunner tracks, I use the century-old alleyways in town to spare the public the image of my rubenesque figure enduring short bursts of running. I run with traffic on Bank Ave, so people will see my posterior, allowing me to be quasi-anonymous. Besides, the hypnotic boom-baba of my caboose is probably humorously relaxing. Alas, all this jocular self-deprecating is for show. I really don't care. I'm in my late 30's and know who I am. Whether I'm a zaftig booty-bearer running about or a slenderer version of same, I like me.
The secret to this is remembering how deceptive appearances can be. Just because someone is slim, or stylish, or wealthy, or in a lofty position in society's eyes means nothing. I am none of the previous descriptions, but live a life of joyful contentedness. How do I do that? Not easily, but prayerfully, reflectively.
It is best described in the book of 1 Samuel 16:7: "But the LORD said to Samuel, 'Do not consider his appearance or his height, for I have rejected him. The LORD does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart.' " With Christ in my heart, that's what God sees despite my imperfection, His Son. What a relief!
Sunday, June 19, 2011
TIME MACHINE
While taking a walk after dinner, I said something to my husband (Item #2 on the list) to which he replied "I never thought I'd hear you say that." This got me thinking about all the things I have said that if you'd told me years ago were to come out of my mouth, I'd laugh and call you crazy.
All of these statements are things that underscore how change invades our lives, both uninvited and unwelcome, as well as invited and pursued. Our experiences are fluid, changing one year to the next, and sometimes one moment to the next.
Following is the top ten list of things I NEVER thought I'd say....but DID. Some are paraphrased conversations, but some are exact quotes, and I am sure you will know which ones are which. :-)
10 "As long as you live in my house..."
9 "I'm 37 and my daughter is a sophomore in college."
8 "I'm 37 and this is my newborn son."
7 "I just watched Ferris Bueller's Day Off and was torn about whether to root for him or the teachers."
6 "I'd like to downgrade my service and disconnect my Blackberry please."
5 "You guys were right...my daughter shouldn't have roomed with a friend at college."
4 "Poison control? My 3 year old just ate superglue..."
3 "I LOVE MY MINIVAN."
2 "Why can't I run everyday?"
1 "Get baby Jesus out of your mouth."
None of these statements causes me any regret, just laughter at how cemented I was into my expectations of what my life would be like. And heartier laughter at how my expectations were in many cases, totally ridiculous.
With a grateful heart I have made each of the above statements and appreciate the circumstances surrounding them as lessons learned and memories made.
All of these statements are things that underscore how change invades our lives, both uninvited and unwelcome, as well as invited and pursued. Our experiences are fluid, changing one year to the next, and sometimes one moment to the next.
Following is the top ten list of things I NEVER thought I'd say....but DID. Some are paraphrased conversations, but some are exact quotes, and I am sure you will know which ones are which. :-)
10 "As long as you live in my house..."
9 "I'm 37 and my daughter is a sophomore in college."
8 "I'm 37 and this is my newborn son."
7 "I just watched Ferris Bueller's Day Off and was torn about whether to root for him or the teachers."
6 "I'd like to downgrade my service and disconnect my Blackberry please."
5 "You guys were right...my daughter shouldn't have roomed with a friend at college."
4 "Poison control? My 3 year old just ate superglue..."
3 "I LOVE MY MINIVAN."
2 "Why can't I run everyday?"
1 "Get baby Jesus out of your mouth."
None of these statements causes me any regret, just laughter at how cemented I was into my expectations of what my life would be like. And heartier laughter at how my expectations were in many cases, totally ridiculous.
With a grateful heart I have made each of the above statements and appreciate the circumstances surrounding them as lessons learned and memories made.
Thursday, June 16, 2011
OLD SCHOOL
I'm not that old, but I'm old school. I believe in family dinners, hanging sheets on the line, hand-me-downs, brown-bagging it and BOOKS. Real books.
My dad, (best daddy on the planet), read to me incessantly when I was a little girl. As a result, I was an early reader and developed a deep love for books. I would play teacher as a kid (not rock star or superhero), and had an extensive and impressive collection of children's literature on a long bookshelf under my windowsill in my bedroom.
In 1979, when I was a 6-year-old kindergartener, the unthinkable happened. I got grounded...from my books. My parents cleared the bookshelves in my room, packed them into a Raggedy Ann clothes hamper and kept them from me for what seemed a painfully long time.
What kind of parents would take BOOKS away from their kid? Mine. Not because they advocated illiteracy and stupidity, but because they wanted to hit me where it hurt - the bookshelf. What infraction could bring on such a lavishly cruel punishment you ask? I had drawn political graffiti on the back inside cover of my Children's Dictionary. It was a crude drawing of an airplane and a stick figure shouting "Hey you guys, release the hostages!" Yes, that's right, I was lobbying for the release of the hostages in the Iran Hostage Crisis of 1979. Go figure.
All this shared here to establish my lifelong geekery and love of books. I even turned it into a profession. I am a professional nerd, a schoolmarm, a person who laughs at jokes about the various kinds of irony and uses words like "shenanigans", "rubbish", "hullabaloo" and "hooligan" in all seriousness when addressing my students (and children).
I love the smell of new books, the smell of old books, the secret pressed flowers and lost letters one can sometimes find in a tome bought at a yard sale. I love the look of them on the shelf, arranging them sometimes by size, sometimes by author - oh the possibilities.
Perhaps that is why I agonized for months about whether or not to buy a Kindle. What kind of new-fangled, fraudulent impostor is that for a book? This is akin to my distrust of electronic calendars and my obsession with writing all my doings on a paper calendar planner. You just can't replace books with electronic thingies and expect it to be the same.
But then I started doing my homework. Reading reviews, doing highly scientific polls via Facebook with my friends, weighing the opinions of teachers against non-teachers. Do you realize the Kindle is the same thickness as a PENCIL? And can hold up to 3,500 books? And the INK! Amazon states that "Electronic ink screens work using ink, just like books and newspapers, but display the ink particles electronically."
Actual ink moved around electronically? What hath God wrought? This is a step away from Jetsons stuff. My research, coupled with my intense desire to carry around less crap at school, sealed the deal. I marched myself to Target and bought one. Yes, Target so that I wouldn't have to wait to play with it.
Guess what? It is pretty amazing. I downloaded 16 books today, 13 of them for free. I am going to kick it classical like never before. I started one of the summer reading books today for the 12th graders and it was wonderful to use one hand to read and "flip pages" and wrangle a wiggling baby with the other hand. I definitely think a mom can benefit from the one-handed operation feature of this incredible bit of technology.
Although I am very glad I made this decision, I will never give up real books and still prefer them (look, smell, feel, margins for jotting). The Kindle is a great CHANGE I've been wanting to make and now I can check it off my proverbial hand-written list.
My dad, (best daddy on the planet), read to me incessantly when I was a little girl. As a result, I was an early reader and developed a deep love for books. I would play teacher as a kid (not rock star or superhero), and had an extensive and impressive collection of children's literature on a long bookshelf under my windowsill in my bedroom.
In 1979, when I was a 6-year-old kindergartener, the unthinkable happened. I got grounded...from my books. My parents cleared the bookshelves in my room, packed them into a Raggedy Ann clothes hamper and kept them from me for what seemed a painfully long time.
What kind of parents would take BOOKS away from their kid? Mine. Not because they advocated illiteracy and stupidity, but because they wanted to hit me where it hurt - the bookshelf. What infraction could bring on such a lavishly cruel punishment you ask? I had drawn political graffiti on the back inside cover of my Children's Dictionary. It was a crude drawing of an airplane and a stick figure shouting "Hey you guys, release the hostages!" Yes, that's right, I was lobbying for the release of the hostages in the Iran Hostage Crisis of 1979. Go figure.
All this shared here to establish my lifelong geekery and love of books. I even turned it into a profession. I am a professional nerd, a schoolmarm, a person who laughs at jokes about the various kinds of irony and uses words like "shenanigans", "rubbish", "hullabaloo" and "hooligan" in all seriousness when addressing my students (and children).
I love the smell of new books, the smell of old books, the secret pressed flowers and lost letters one can sometimes find in a tome bought at a yard sale. I love the look of them on the shelf, arranging them sometimes by size, sometimes by author - oh the possibilities.
Perhaps that is why I agonized for months about whether or not to buy a Kindle. What kind of new-fangled, fraudulent impostor is that for a book? This is akin to my distrust of electronic calendars and my obsession with writing all my doings on a paper calendar planner. You just can't replace books with electronic thingies and expect it to be the same.
But then I started doing my homework. Reading reviews, doing highly scientific polls via Facebook with my friends, weighing the opinions of teachers against non-teachers. Do you realize the Kindle is the same thickness as a PENCIL? And can hold up to 3,500 books? And the INK! Amazon states that "Electronic ink screens work using ink, just like books and newspapers, but display the ink particles electronically."
Actual ink moved around electronically? What hath God wrought? This is a step away from Jetsons stuff. My research, coupled with my intense desire to carry around less crap at school, sealed the deal. I marched myself to Target and bought one. Yes, Target so that I wouldn't have to wait to play with it.
Guess what? It is pretty amazing. I downloaded 16 books today, 13 of them for free. I am going to kick it classical like never before. I started one of the summer reading books today for the 12th graders and it was wonderful to use one hand to read and "flip pages" and wrangle a wiggling baby with the other hand. I definitely think a mom can benefit from the one-handed operation feature of this incredible bit of technology.
Although I am very glad I made this decision, I will never give up real books and still prefer them (look, smell, feel, margins for jotting). The Kindle is a great CHANGE I've been wanting to make and now I can check it off my proverbial hand-written list.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
CHASING MR. SOFTEE
I never was an athlete. I mean, not even a little bit. High school gym class required a mile run in a certain amount of time. I had perfected a jog-esque shuffle, which was really just walking with a bit of arm pumping while yapping with friends as I rounded the track.
I joined the softball team at school in 1988 and went to my first practice. It was drizzling and coach insisted we run the bases to warm up.
Me: "But it's raining Coach."
Coach: "Yeah, and?"
Me: "OK." (packs up and leaves, never to return)
Running in the rain? What manner of medieval torture is that? After an inglorious end to my inglorious career in high school sports, I found that band, chorus and drama club were more my speed (no pun intended). Freaks and geeks were my comfort zone and I loved it.
HOBOKEN, NJ (Late 1990's)
My dear friend from high school had moved to Hoboken to start a job in the Big Apple with a division of Nickelodeon. She was living the dream life - her own apartment in a cool little town just outside NYC. I went up to visit overnight a few times while she lived there.
One time, I went up in March to see her. We went out to dinner and to see The Full Monty. What's the point of this? Well, this is the last time I remember running before this past week. You see, as I sat up in her little apartment the day after our night on the town, I heard the familiar refrain of a Mr. Softee truck in the distance.
Could it be? Mr. Softee? His first foray into the streets this year for sure. It was only March. Like an incredibly slow bolt of lightning, I flew in a pathetic run down the steps, out the door, down the stoop and onto a side street, chasing the metal box of dairy delights like a woman possessed.
Chocolate/vanilla twist with chocolate jimmies. That was the fruit of my huffy puffy labor. It was also the last time I ran anyplace.
APRIL 2010: Couch to 5K? What's that? A training program that will make you a runner (at least of a 5K) in 10 weeks? Mmmmm. I'm sedentary, so that might be for me. I mean, they mention a couch in the title right? I'M GOING TO DO THAT.
Yeah right. Late spring 2010 - PREGNANT! After 16 months of trying, our 3rd and final child was on his way! Praise the Lord, what a blessing. Running on the back burner, like all my big ideas.
JUNE 2011:
C25K resurfaces in my mind. This time I'm going to do it. Really - not just talk about it and "like" the C25K page on Facebook.
I downloaded (for free) some Podrunner tracks (tracks of music timed to train for C25K and signal the switches from walking to jogging). You can find them here for free.
I searched high and low in my house for my iPod, which had been forgotten in an unused purse and unearthed like the Sutton Hoo treasures. It's amazing how you can find what was lost when you get in the mood to do so.
For the first time in a while, I laced up my $90 Saucony sneakers for the purpose of exercise. They've only seen a little action in the 2 years I've had them. They look cool though - very sporty. With my long-lost iPod and the sheer will to stop being a slug, I set out.
The electronica-type music was nice because there are no lyrics and the cadence helps you fall into step. I walked, I jogged, I huffed, I puffed. At the end of 26 minutes, I arrived home - successful. I didn't walk when I should have run. I didn't sit down or stop for a Boost during the session. I just DID IT. Ah - a change for me.
Since then, I have done session 2 of week 1 and plan on doing session 3 today. Truth be told, I am actually looking forward to today's session and may sneak a 4th in this week - JUST FOR KICKS. Really! Me, the sluggard, becoming an Exercise Maven? I know, you can't be a maven after doing something twice but I would like to be a maven.
As I train and learn to be fit, if I hear Mr. Softee, I will simply run the other way this time.
I joined the softball team at school in 1988 and went to my first practice. It was drizzling and coach insisted we run the bases to warm up.
Me: "But it's raining Coach."
Coach: "Yeah, and?"
Me: "OK." (packs up and leaves, never to return)
Running in the rain? What manner of medieval torture is that? After an inglorious end to my inglorious career in high school sports, I found that band, chorus and drama club were more my speed (no pun intended). Freaks and geeks were my comfort zone and I loved it.
HOBOKEN, NJ (Late 1990's)
My dear friend from high school had moved to Hoboken to start a job in the Big Apple with a division of Nickelodeon. She was living the dream life - her own apartment in a cool little town just outside NYC. I went up to visit overnight a few times while she lived there.
One time, I went up in March to see her. We went out to dinner and to see The Full Monty. What's the point of this? Well, this is the last time I remember running before this past week. You see, as I sat up in her little apartment the day after our night on the town, I heard the familiar refrain of a Mr. Softee truck in the distance.
Could it be? Mr. Softee? His first foray into the streets this year for sure. It was only March. Like an incredibly slow bolt of lightning, I flew in a pathetic run down the steps, out the door, down the stoop and onto a side street, chasing the metal box of dairy delights like a woman possessed.
Chocolate/vanilla twist with chocolate jimmies. That was the fruit of my huffy puffy labor. It was also the last time I ran anyplace.
APRIL 2010: Couch to 5K? What's that? A training program that will make you a runner (at least of a 5K) in 10 weeks? Mmmmm. I'm sedentary, so that might be for me. I mean, they mention a couch in the title right? I'M GOING TO DO THAT.
Yeah right. Late spring 2010 - PREGNANT! After 16 months of trying, our 3rd and final child was on his way! Praise the Lord, what a blessing. Running on the back burner, like all my big ideas.
JUNE 2011:
C25K resurfaces in my mind. This time I'm going to do it. Really - not just talk about it and "like" the C25K page on Facebook.
I downloaded (for free) some Podrunner tracks (tracks of music timed to train for C25K and signal the switches from walking to jogging). You can find them here for free.
I searched high and low in my house for my iPod, which had been forgotten in an unused purse and unearthed like the Sutton Hoo treasures. It's amazing how you can find what was lost when you get in the mood to do so.
For the first time in a while, I laced up my $90 Saucony sneakers for the purpose of exercise. They've only seen a little action in the 2 years I've had them. They look cool though - very sporty. With my long-lost iPod and the sheer will to stop being a slug, I set out.
The electronica-type music was nice because there are no lyrics and the cadence helps you fall into step. I walked, I jogged, I huffed, I puffed. At the end of 26 minutes, I arrived home - successful. I didn't walk when I should have run. I didn't sit down or stop for a Boost during the session. I just DID IT. Ah - a change for me.
Since then, I have done session 2 of week 1 and plan on doing session 3 today. Truth be told, I am actually looking forward to today's session and may sneak a 4th in this week - JUST FOR KICKS. Really! Me, the sluggard, becoming an Exercise Maven? I know, you can't be a maven after doing something twice but I would like to be a maven.
As I train and learn to be fit, if I hear Mr. Softee, I will simply run the other way this time.
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
CHANGE? YUCK.
CHANGES in song...listen!
I am a mom, a wife and work full time. I'm a high school teacher.
I like to think of myself as progressive, someone flexible and fast-learning and able to go with the flow. However, the truth is, at times I find change uncomfortable. I am resilient, but that doesn't mean I like it. I cozy up with what's safe and comfortable and get into a rut. Oh what a comfy yet stale rut it is.
What's the fallout of that? A life that becomes disorganized and boring because of bad habits and a lack of time and energy to break out and make positive change.
Well, not anymore. I had a chat with myself when I was pregnant with my son, who was born in February 2011. I told myself, the gestationally diabetic, tired, huffing and puffing self that all the "I'm gonnas" regarding losing weight had to end. Now it was serious! Gestational diabetes, which is purely hormonal and not related to diet, can increase the risk of Type 2 diabetes later in life. That is just plain unacceptable. I don't want diabetes full time. I don't want to be overweight and tired and hiding and joking about it to somehow make it less serious. I want to be healthy and live as long as possible to see my children grow up and become productive citizens.
The other conversation I had with myself was about my general lack of discipline and organization in my spiritual life, work life, my home life and my financial life. Good intentions? Plenty. Previous attempts to be more organized and a better steward of my time, resources and money? Tons. Follow through to make it a new and lasting habit? Nada.
By serendipity, I seem to be working on changing many areas of my life at one time. This seems overwhelming, crazy, even foolish. But for me, it makes sense. It is all connected. The need for discipline and organization is what requires change.
I plan to share my journey of change in the areas of personal health, finances, domestic upkeep and the like. I hope you will join me, a regular person, as I make changes, permanent changes, that will increase my ability to enjoy life and live out the purpose and plan that God has for my life. As I continue on this project of personal overhaul, I am believing Phillipians 4:13 "I can do everything through Christ, who gives me strength."
I am a mom, a wife and work full time. I'm a high school teacher.
I like to think of myself as progressive, someone flexible and fast-learning and able to go with the flow. However, the truth is, at times I find change uncomfortable. I am resilient, but that doesn't mean I like it. I cozy up with what's safe and comfortable and get into a rut. Oh what a comfy yet stale rut it is.
What's the fallout of that? A life that becomes disorganized and boring because of bad habits and a lack of time and energy to break out and make positive change.
Well, not anymore. I had a chat with myself when I was pregnant with my son, who was born in February 2011. I told myself, the gestationally diabetic, tired, huffing and puffing self that all the "I'm gonnas" regarding losing weight had to end. Now it was serious! Gestational diabetes, which is purely hormonal and not related to diet, can increase the risk of Type 2 diabetes later in life. That is just plain unacceptable. I don't want diabetes full time. I don't want to be overweight and tired and hiding and joking about it to somehow make it less serious. I want to be healthy and live as long as possible to see my children grow up and become productive citizens.
The other conversation I had with myself was about my general lack of discipline and organization in my spiritual life, work life, my home life and my financial life. Good intentions? Plenty. Previous attempts to be more organized and a better steward of my time, resources and money? Tons. Follow through to make it a new and lasting habit? Nada.
By serendipity, I seem to be working on changing many areas of my life at one time. This seems overwhelming, crazy, even foolish. But for me, it makes sense. It is all connected. The need for discipline and organization is what requires change.
I plan to share my journey of change in the areas of personal health, finances, domestic upkeep and the like. I hope you will join me, a regular person, as I make changes, permanent changes, that will increase my ability to enjoy life and live out the purpose and plan that God has for my life. As I continue on this project of personal overhaul, I am believing Phillipians 4:13 "I can do everything through Christ, who gives me strength."
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