Hi everyone! Just a quick post today to say congrats to Elise, who won the "Crunch-Free Xtreme Abs" personal training with Jackie DVD and to UmpireMom, who won the "Gorgeous Core" with Suzanne Bowen DVD. Please email me your info and I'll get these out to you right away!
I'll have a post tomorrow. In the meantime, have a happy New Year's Eve! Be safe, eat smart, have fun! See you all next year!
Jumat, 31 Desember 2010
Selasa, 28 Desember 2010
Video Ab Workout DVDs Review & Giveaway!
This is my first attempt at a video review and clearly I need to adjust the camera…LOL I'll get better at this. Maybe.
Anyway, if you’d like to win either “Gorgeous Core with Suzanne Bowen” or “Personal Training with Jackie: Crunch-Free Extreme Abs,” leave a comment below or send me an email at lynn.haraldson@yahoo.com and I’ll throw your name in the hat. If you’d like your name in both hats, that’s totally cool, just know that you will only win one if your name is selected. Gotta spread the love, you know?
Good luck! I'll be back soon with a real blog and a New Year's video. Hopefully I'll have figured out the camera by then :)
Anyway, if you’d like to win either “Gorgeous Core with Suzanne Bowen” or “Personal Training with Jackie: Crunch-Free Extreme Abs,” leave a comment below or send me an email at lynn.haraldson@yahoo.com and I’ll throw your name in the hat. If you’d like your name in both hats, that’s totally cool, just know that you will only win one if your name is selected. Gotta spread the love, you know?
Good luck! I'll be back soon with a real blog and a New Year's video. Hopefully I'll have figured out the camera by then :)
Sabtu, 25 Desember 2010
The Gifts Behind the Gifts
Each Christmas, I buy a gift for myself. Just a little something I pick up on a whim while shopping. One year it was a small ceramic elf, another was a Christmas cactus, and one year, while looking for a sweater for my daughter, I found the most perfect-fitting pair of pants on sale for $10. Best. Buy. Ever.
This year’s gift, though, didn’t cost a thing. In fact, I’d forgotten about this yearly tradition until I was fully engaged in it this afternoon.
My gift to me this year was…a walk.
I haven’t taken a walk since the hike in October (see “Recovered”) because it took my knee three days to get back to some semblance of normal. I didn’t know it at the time, but I’d torn my medial meniscus. While it felt OK during and right after into the hike, afterwards my knee hurt like a son of a gun. I haven’t tested it since.
When I was diagnosed last month, my doc shot me up with cortisone. My knee is still iffy (it may still need to be scoped), and the way it feels varies day to day. Yesterday I was limping. Today I felt like I could climb Algonquin (a beautiful mountain in the Adirondacks). Instead I did the next best thing. I explored my neighborhood.
Earlier this morning, I was with my daughters and their SOs and my grandkids and Larry. We exchanged gifts, ate eggs and chocolate and potatoes, and when I got home, I was hepped up on sugar and feeling like a slug. My mind said, “Take a nap!” but my body said, “Go outside!” I decided to follow the advice I give here ad nauseum: “Listen to your body!”
I was a having a rockin’ hair day, which alone would usually preclude me from doing anything to mess it up. But I was alone (and besides, who really cares?), so I put on my new Buddy the Elf hat that my darling daughter Carlene knitted for me; layered a long-sleeve t-shirt, sweatshirt and shell underneath my coat; put on my serious walking boots and my gloves; and I headed out.
I live in a working-class town north of Pittsburgh. It’s safe and quiet and much closer to the Allegheny River than I realized. I walked up my street toward the cemetery and turned north onto a road I’d not been on before. I wound around the back streets, admiring the Christmas decorations some folks had on their lawns, when then I saw in one large picture window a leg lamp. A “Christmas Story” leg lamp. Man, I laughed for half a block!
I turned another corner and was struck by the familiar western PA hill-river terrain. I knew the Allegheny wasn’t far away, but I had no idea it was just four blocks from my house. As I got closer to the homes that bordered the hill’s ledge, I felt just how cloistered I’d become in my apartment and in my routine. Since moving here, I haven’t thought outside the box of where I need to be. I get in my Jeep and I go to the store or I go to see the grandkids or I go to a doctor’s appointment or some such. I go with purpose and not with curiosity. Today’s walk shook out all the dust that had settled since my last hike. I love walking. I love looking around. I love the peace and solitude of a long steady pace. When I got back to my house, I didn’t want the walk to end, but my knee was getting quiet insistent after 45 minutes. So I compromised and didn’t go inside right away.
I felt it all and understood the gift of the walk, that of clarity and time alone.
When I was driving to Cassie’s this morning, before the hubbub, I heard a song I hadn’t heard in ages: “Hold On Hold Out” by Jackson Browne. Listening to it with my 47-year-old ears (as opposed to my 16-year-old ears) and as someone who’s been up and down the damn scale a number of times, brought a whole new perspective to it. I’ve posted the first few stanzas of the lyrics below, and when you read them, think of how they apply to you.
Merry Christmas :)
Hold On Hold Out by Jackson Browne (For complete lyrics, click here)
Hold on hold out, keep a hold on strong
The money's in and the bets are down
You won't hold out long
They say you'll fall in no time at all
But you know they're wrong
Known it all along
Hold on hold out, keep a hold on still
If you don't see what your love is worth
No one ever will
You've done your time on the bottom line
And it ain't no thrill
There's got to be something more
Keep a hold on still
You know what it is you're waiting for
Now you just hold on
Hold on hold out
This year’s gift, though, didn’t cost a thing. In fact, I’d forgotten about this yearly tradition until I was fully engaged in it this afternoon.
My gift to me this year was…a walk.
I haven’t taken a walk since the hike in October (see “Recovered”) because it took my knee three days to get back to some semblance of normal. I didn’t know it at the time, but I’d torn my medial meniscus. While it felt OK during and right after into the hike, afterwards my knee hurt like a son of a gun. I haven’t tested it since.
Earlier this morning, I was with my daughters and their SOs and my grandkids and Larry. We exchanged gifts, ate eggs and chocolate and potatoes, and when I got home, I was hepped up on sugar and feeling like a slug. My mind said, “Take a nap!” but my body said, “Go outside!” I decided to follow the advice I give here ad nauseum: “Listen to your body!”
I was a having a rockin’ hair day, which alone would usually preclude me from doing anything to mess it up. But I was alone (and besides, who really cares?), so I put on my new Buddy the Elf hat that my darling daughter Carlene knitted for me; layered a long-sleeve t-shirt, sweatshirt and shell underneath my coat; put on my serious walking boots and my gloves; and I headed out.
I turned another corner and was struck by the familiar western PA hill-river terrain. I knew the Allegheny wasn’t far away, but I had no idea it was just four blocks from my house. As I got closer to the homes that bordered the hill’s ledge, I felt just how cloistered I’d become in my apartment and in my routine. Since moving here, I haven’t thought outside the box of where I need to be. I get in my Jeep and I go to the store or I go to see the grandkids or I go to a doctor’s appointment or some such. I go with purpose and not with curiosity. Today’s walk shook out all the dust that had settled since my last hike. I love walking. I love looking around. I love the peace and solitude of a long steady pace. When I got back to my house, I didn’t want the walk to end, but my knee was getting quiet insistent after 45 minutes. So I compromised and didn’t go inside right away.
Instead, I sat on the porch swing and I rocked back and forth and felt snowflakes lighting and melting on my face. I watched my breath flow out my nose in a white vapor and disappear. I listened to One Republic in my ears (…“I’m sick of all the insincere, so I’m gonna give all my secrets away…”) and felt the muscle buzz in my thighs.
When I was driving to Cassie’s this morning, before the hubbub, I heard a song I hadn’t heard in ages: “Hold On Hold Out” by Jackson Browne. Listening to it with my 47-year-old ears (as opposed to my 16-year-old ears) and as someone who’s been up and down the damn scale a number of times, brought a whole new perspective to it. I’ve posted the first few stanzas of the lyrics below, and when you read them, think of how they apply to you. Are you someone who is losing weight or thinking about losing weight? In maintenance or looking for goal? Newly in love or looking for love? Forming or achieving a goal? It’s one of the most thought-provoking songs I know, and the gift of hearing it this morning is one I will not forget.
Hold On Hold Out by Jackson Browne (For complete lyrics, click here)
Hold on hold out, keep a hold on strong
The money's in and the bets are down
You won't hold out long
They say you'll fall in no time at all
But you know they're wrong
Known it all along
Hold on hold out, keep a hold on still
If you don't see what your love is worth
No one ever will
You've done your time on the bottom line
And it ain't no thrill
There's got to be something more
Keep a hold on still
You know what it is you're waiting for
Now you just hold on
Hold on hold out
Rabu, 22 Desember 2010
Loosening the Food Chains
In the nearly five years I’ve been doing Weight Watchers, I’ve become pretty wedded to my food routine. Not that there’s anything wrong with a routine. It has and will continue to serve me well. But two things have come into play the last few months that have me loosening up the way I think about food: cooking for one and getting out more.
When I was buying food for two (or more), I bought a lot of fresh produce because it got eaten up quickly. Not so with just me. I don’t need a five-pound bag of potatoes or two-pound bag of onions anymore. A couple of bananas and apples now last more than a few days. When I first moved in to my apartment, I was buying produce like I was cooking for two and I ended up throwing things away the first few weeks because no one person could possibly eat all that I’d bought. Finally I understood what so many of you have discussed either in your blogs or in your comments, that frozen fruits and veggies are not only more economical, they have a much longer shelf life than fresh. They’re pretty darn tasty, too.
Living in Pittsburgh, I’m discovering places I didn’t know existed or haven’t been to in years. These activities often involve food, either directly or indirectly. For instance, last Saturday, a friend and I went to the Strip District. The Strip is lined with shops and restaurants, fish markets and produce stands, table after table of Steelers and Penguins items, jewelry vendors, and ethnic grocery stores. I hadn’t been there in ages, the last time being the day I locked my keys in the car and had to call AAA and the cutest boy ever managed to jimmy the lock…but I digress.
We grabbed a latte to go from Right By Nature then went to see the completed renovations inside St. Stanislaus Kostka Church where three very nice ladies were serving homemade Polish cookies. I ate a chrusciki (a fried cookie – yes, I ate a fried cookie – that looks like angel wings) and it was very yummy.
When we got to the Korean market, my friend ordered us a mung bean pancake and I ate my half with a touch of hot sauce. It was really good. At the Mediterranean market, I bought two dates and ate them while drinking a glass of wine in a bar that was hosting the iron workers union Christmas party. No one seemed to mind we’d crashed it and no one cared that I was eating dates. I can’t remember the last time I ate dates. Why? Because I always thought anything that sweet and tasty had to be “bad.” Yet two dates have 40 calories and virtually no fat. Yes, they’re higher in carbs and sugars, but like the chrusciki, they’re a once-in-awhile treat. Nothing “bad” about that at all.
At Public Market, we sampled some jams before ending our afternoon at an Irish pub where we ate cheese and bread and fruit. It was a very fun and tasty day, but after nearly eight hours, I was feeling run down. While I hadn’t eaten a lot of any one thing, my body was definitely telling me I needed real sustenance. Some veggies and protein. For dinner I had a spinach salad, steamed broccoli, and a baked potato. Within a few minutes, I felt a million percent better.
The next day, I went to a Buddhist temple for a luncheon. I sampled curried lentils and milk rice without scrutinizing their exact contents, something I used to do all the time. I even ate a small sliver of carrot cake because I wanted to. Later that night, dinner was light – just a salad – and I was satisfied and very happy I’d tried something new and let the food sphincter unpucker just a little.
Today I read what Anne at Smaller Fun Pants wrote in her blog “Intuitive Eater’s Holiday Bill of Rights”: “Eat the meal you want. Eat what you truly want. If that’s carrots and celery sticks, great! If it’s a rich food, that’s okay too...because if you’re really tuning in to what your body needs and wants you won’t always want the rich foods. You won’t always fill up on cookies.”
My body wanted the carrot cake and chrusciki and the pancake and the dates. It also wanted vegetables and protein and fruit. And the balance I struck without going into a food coma or having a mental breakdown was quite amazing. It’s taken me five years, but it seems I’m developing a trust between my body and mind. No doubt there will be times when I still have to get all Mom on myself and say “No!”, but it’s all part of the learning process, isn’t it?
When I was buying food for two (or more), I bought a lot of fresh produce because it got eaten up quickly. Not so with just me. I don’t need a five-pound bag of potatoes or two-pound bag of onions anymore. A couple of bananas and apples now last more than a few days. When I first moved in to my apartment, I was buying produce like I was cooking for two and I ended up throwing things away the first few weeks because no one person could possibly eat all that I’d bought. Finally I understood what so many of you have discussed either in your blogs or in your comments, that frozen fruits and veggies are not only more economical, they have a much longer shelf life than fresh. They’re pretty darn tasty, too.
Living in Pittsburgh, I’m discovering places I didn’t know existed or haven’t been to in years. These activities often involve food, either directly or indirectly. For instance, last Saturday, a friend and I went to the Strip District. The Strip is lined with shops and restaurants, fish markets and produce stands, table after table of Steelers and Penguins items, jewelry vendors, and ethnic grocery stores. I hadn’t been there in ages, the last time being the day I locked my keys in the car and had to call AAA and the cutest boy ever managed to jimmy the lock…but I digress.
We grabbed a latte to go from Right By Nature then went to see the completed renovations inside St. Stanislaus Kostka Church where three very nice ladies were serving homemade Polish cookies. I ate a chrusciki (a fried cookie – yes, I ate a fried cookie – that looks like angel wings) and it was very yummy.
When we got to the Korean market, my friend ordered us a mung bean pancake and I ate my half with a touch of hot sauce. It was really good. At the Mediterranean market, I bought two dates and ate them while drinking a glass of wine in a bar that was hosting the iron workers union Christmas party. No one seemed to mind we’d crashed it and no one cared that I was eating dates. I can’t remember the last time I ate dates. Why? Because I always thought anything that sweet and tasty had to be “bad.” Yet two dates have 40 calories and virtually no fat. Yes, they’re higher in carbs and sugars, but like the chrusciki, they’re a once-in-awhile treat. Nothing “bad” about that at all.
At Public Market, we sampled some jams before ending our afternoon at an Irish pub where we ate cheese and bread and fruit. It was a very fun and tasty day, but after nearly eight hours, I was feeling run down. While I hadn’t eaten a lot of any one thing, my body was definitely telling me I needed real sustenance. Some veggies and protein. For dinner I had a spinach salad, steamed broccoli, and a baked potato. Within a few minutes, I felt a million percent better.
The next day, I went to a Buddhist temple for a luncheon. I sampled curried lentils and milk rice without scrutinizing their exact contents, something I used to do all the time. I even ate a small sliver of carrot cake because I wanted to. Later that night, dinner was light – just a salad – and I was satisfied and very happy I’d tried something new and let the food sphincter unpucker just a little.
Today I read what Anne at Smaller Fun Pants wrote in her blog “Intuitive Eater’s Holiday Bill of Rights”: “Eat the meal you want. Eat what you truly want. If that’s carrots and celery sticks, great! If it’s a rich food, that’s okay too...because if you’re really tuning in to what your body needs and wants you won’t always want the rich foods. You won’t always fill up on cookies.”
My body wanted the carrot cake and chrusciki and the pancake and the dates. It also wanted vegetables and protein and fruit. And the balance I struck without going into a food coma or having a mental breakdown was quite amazing. It’s taken me five years, but it seems I’m developing a trust between my body and mind. No doubt there will be times when I still have to get all Mom on myself and say “No!”, but it’s all part of the learning process, isn’t it?
Selasa, 21 Desember 2010
Sorry For the Hiatus
Hello all. I'm so sorry I haven't posted anything since Thursday. I've been unexpectadly out of town longer than I thought, and then yesterday lucky me caught the stomach virus going around. I'll post soon, but in the meantime, I hope this finds you well and not going too crazy getting ready for the holidays. Take good care of yourselves.
Kamis, 16 Desember 2010
Finding Your Adjectives
Last night, my mind was so cluttered and loud I knew there was no way I’d get to sleep without a bath. I was being slammed in all directions and feeling this way about this and that way about that and everything else about every other thing. Yikes! I had to sort it all out.
I lit candles, filled the bath with almost hot water, sunk in to my chin and thought. No iPod, no other distraction. Just me and my head.
I identified three things that wanted my attention the most: 1) Who am I? 2) What do I want? and 3) Will I ever be warm again?
The answer to #3 is probably not until spring and #1 is an ongoing process, so let’s move on to #2.
What do I want? Well, the bath helped me see that I want things that I really don’t want, but it was late and I let it be and fell asleep. Then riding the recumbent bike today, I read the latest column by Martha Beck in O Magazine, “Words to the Wise,” and I pursued the question further.
Beck writes that we can say, “I want to lose weight” or whatever other goal we think we want to pursue, but the real question is why? What’s behind that goal or dream?
She suggests we first identify a goal. A typical noun-verb one. (If you’re playing along, make sure you pick your most ambitious one.)
Second, create a fantasy about what your life would be like if you realize your goal.
Third, identify at least three adjectives that describe this fantasy. As Beck says (and she’s right), this is not easy. You can’t say, “Well, it’s hard to describe” or “It’s hard to explain.” List three adjectives that you think will define your accomplishment at the end of your journey. What would happen and how would we feel if we really achieved our goals?
“They don’t have to be eloquent,” says Beck. “Use simple words like 'energetic,' 'focused,' 'delighted' and 'fine.'”
Finally, drop the fantasy you imagined and concentrate on the adjectives.
“You might notice that these three words bring your stated goal into shaper focus. For instance, if your New Year’s resolution is to lose 10 pounds – a noun-verb goal – but your adjectives are “strong,” “confident” and “healthy,” you might realize that your actual aim is to get fit.”
Ah…that’s the kicker. My goals often aren’t the goals other people envision for me, and I need to take back ownership of what I want. That’s what this exercise showed me today.
When I was in the tub last night, I realized there are many things I think I should want to do or be. But today, when I stepped back and gave them a noun-verb identification, some of them just rubbed me wrong. They didn’t feel right to me.
As I moved on to the fantasy, I felt the reality in my gut. Then in step three – the adjectives – most of the “whys” of my goals became pretty clear.
“So if you find yourself longing for some idealized goal, take a moment to go fishing for adjectives. Then use them to identify the aspects of your life that are already drawing you toward your heart’s desires.”
When I reflected on my adjectives, I realized many of the things I do in my everyday life already fulfill many of the goals I’d set for myself. They just don’t necessarily reflect what others think I should want to do.
The bottom line is that I like the way my life is grooving right now. I like the way things are working out. I like feeling who I am from the inside out. Adding other people’s goals to my agenda doesn’t feel right. Does this ever happen to you?
What’s your idealized goal (and you don’t have to write it here…just think about it)? Is it really something you want or does someone else (or society) want it for you?
This time of year is about peace. I’m choosing to find it within myself. That is my wish for all of you, too. Do what you want to do because it’s what you want to do, not because someone else says you should.
I lit candles, filled the bath with almost hot water, sunk in to my chin and thought. No iPod, no other distraction. Just me and my head.
I identified three things that wanted my attention the most: 1) Who am I? 2) What do I want? and 3) Will I ever be warm again?
The answer to #3 is probably not until spring and #1 is an ongoing process, so let’s move on to #2.
What do I want? Well, the bath helped me see that I want things that I really don’t want, but it was late and I let it be and fell asleep. Then riding the recumbent bike today, I read the latest column by Martha Beck in O Magazine, “Words to the Wise,” and I pursued the question further.
Beck writes that we can say, “I want to lose weight” or whatever other goal we think we want to pursue, but the real question is why? What’s behind that goal or dream?
She suggests we first identify a goal. A typical noun-verb one. (If you’re playing along, make sure you pick your most ambitious one.)
Second, create a fantasy about what your life would be like if you realize your goal.
Third, identify at least three adjectives that describe this fantasy. As Beck says (and she’s right), this is not easy. You can’t say, “Well, it’s hard to describe” or “It’s hard to explain.” List three adjectives that you think will define your accomplishment at the end of your journey. What would happen and how would we feel if we really achieved our goals?
“They don’t have to be eloquent,” says Beck. “Use simple words like 'energetic,' 'focused,' 'delighted' and 'fine.'”
Finally, drop the fantasy you imagined and concentrate on the adjectives.
“You might notice that these three words bring your stated goal into shaper focus. For instance, if your New Year’s resolution is to lose 10 pounds – a noun-verb goal – but your adjectives are “strong,” “confident” and “healthy,” you might realize that your actual aim is to get fit.”
Ah…that’s the kicker. My goals often aren’t the goals other people envision for me, and I need to take back ownership of what I want. That’s what this exercise showed me today.
When I was in the tub last night, I realized there are many things I think I should want to do or be. But today, when I stepped back and gave them a noun-verb identification, some of them just rubbed me wrong. They didn’t feel right to me.
As I moved on to the fantasy, I felt the reality in my gut. Then in step three – the adjectives – most of the “whys” of my goals became pretty clear.
“So if you find yourself longing for some idealized goal, take a moment to go fishing for adjectives. Then use them to identify the aspects of your life that are already drawing you toward your heart’s desires.”
When I reflected on my adjectives, I realized many of the things I do in my everyday life already fulfill many of the goals I’d set for myself. They just don’t necessarily reflect what others think I should want to do.
The bottom line is that I like the way my life is grooving right now. I like the way things are working out. I like feeling who I am from the inside out. Adding other people’s goals to my agenda doesn’t feel right. Does this ever happen to you?
What’s your idealized goal (and you don’t have to write it here…just think about it)? Is it really something you want or does someone else (or society) want it for you?
This time of year is about peace. I’m choosing to find it within myself. That is my wish for all of you, too. Do what you want to do because it’s what you want to do, not because someone else says you should.
Senin, 13 Desember 2010
Going Nuclear
Last night while I slept, my body went nuclear, the weather went nuclear, and worst of all, my Blackberry went nuclear.
My body: The progesterone had kicked in, and I swear I slept on my head given the level of bed head I was sporting.
The weather: I looked outside and 8 inches of snow were piled up on the driveway. I couldn’t see across the street. I checked the weather forecast and learned we’re under a lake effect snow warning until tomorrow for 18 additional inches and lots of wind.
The Blackberry: I can take the cramps and the cold, but Advil and an extra pair of slippers couldn’t cure my Tour. Sometime in the middle of the night, it was sucked into a black hole, and no matter what I did I couldn’t break the loop of reset, restart. Reset, restart. I pulled the battery, tried reloading the OS…nothing worked.
I looked outside and sighed. I wasn’t going to spend the day without a phone, particularly one that doubles as a modem here on the tundra. Ergo, I had to find a Verizon store.
With my hair matted to my head, no makeup on, cramps that would choke a horse, and a total lack of self-esteem, I put on a hat, a big white sweater, my big brown boots, a scarf, and gloves and headed out to this:
It was snowing so hard, I could barely see the road, let alone store signs. I turned into an Auto Zone and asked a man putting a new windshield wiper on his car where Verizon was. He said I’d gone about two blocks too far and was looking for it on the wrong side of the road. I thanked him, got back in my car, started it up and was on my way. At a stop light, a red pickup truck pulled up on my right. I heard yelling and turned to see what was going on. The pickup driver was yelling and gesturing at me. I rolled down my window and he screamed, “Turn on your f*@&ing lights!”
In my defense, I had my lights on when I first ventured out. I’d turned off my car and lights at Auto Zone a block away, so it’s not like I’d had them off very long. I just forgot to turn them on is all. But this guy acted like I’d plotted to ruin his day by not turning on my lights.
Still, what did I do? I apologized! Ugh. I hate when I do that. He dropped the f-bomb and I was the one apologizing? He was the jerkface, not me. Didn’t matter, though. I had Armageddon going on my uterus and his words made me want to cry.
I didn’t, though. I rolled up my window and journeyed on to the Verizon store. I expected there’d be one, maybe two employees tops who’d made it to work, but heavens no! When I walked in, I was greeted by 9 young sharp-dressed men, many of whom snickered when they saw me. I was covered in snow, you already know what my hair looked like, and – flustered – what did I say to them?
“I don’t normally look like this!”
‘Oh I didn’t just say that,’ I thought.
But I had. And they laughed. My FFG was humiliated.
Why did I feel I had to apologize for how I looked?
While one of the guys took my phone away to try and fix it, I sat down and started writing this blog on a couple of deposit slips. I thought about what was really going on. First of all, I was in the throes of hormones, and as such, every little thing in my world felt like it had gone nuclear. OK, I could accept that. Second, just because the world around me felt estranged, it didn’t mean I had to abandon myself, too. Yes, I apologized for things that didn’t need apologizing, but I caught myself before I did it again. Go me!
When Junior came out with a new phone because he couldn’t fix the old one, I thanked him, looking him straight in the eye. What he saw may not have been very attractive, but I didn’t care. How I looked in that moment was neither here nor there. That a guy lobbed the f-bomb at me because I forgot to turn my lights on didn’t matter anymore, either. Junior asked if I knew how to set up my email. I said I did. He smiled and said, “Wow. You don’t know how many people have no idea how to do that. That’s awesome!”
Suffering uterus, bad hair, snow, nuclear Blackberry… There are worse things, and life is what it is. It’s how we react that makes all the difference. Today, as in many days before, I realized that my weight still has a lot to do with my self-image and self-esteem. As I’ve said many times here, just because you lose weight doesn’t mean you lose the baggage. "I yam what I yam." Today was just another one of those reminder days.
How do you respond in the moment of distress? Do you apologize? Run away? Eat? Make excuses? Beat yourself up? And if you catch yourself doing it, how do you work through the moment?
My body: The progesterone had kicked in, and I swear I slept on my head given the level of bed head I was sporting.
The weather: I looked outside and 8 inches of snow were piled up on the driveway. I couldn’t see across the street. I checked the weather forecast and learned we’re under a lake effect snow warning until tomorrow for 18 additional inches and lots of wind.
The Blackberry: I can take the cramps and the cold, but Advil and an extra pair of slippers couldn’t cure my Tour. Sometime in the middle of the night, it was sucked into a black hole, and no matter what I did I couldn’t break the loop of reset, restart. Reset, restart. I pulled the battery, tried reloading the OS…nothing worked.
I looked outside and sighed. I wasn’t going to spend the day without a phone, particularly one that doubles as a modem here on the tundra. Ergo, I had to find a Verizon store.
With my hair matted to my head, no makeup on, cramps that would choke a horse, and a total lack of self-esteem, I put on a hat, a big white sweater, my big brown boots, a scarf, and gloves and headed out to this:
It was snowing so hard, I could barely see the road, let alone store signs. I turned into an Auto Zone and asked a man putting a new windshield wiper on his car where Verizon was. He said I’d gone about two blocks too far and was looking for it on the wrong side of the road. I thanked him, got back in my car, started it up and was on my way. At a stop light, a red pickup truck pulled up on my right. I heard yelling and turned to see what was going on. The pickup driver was yelling and gesturing at me. I rolled down my window and he screamed, “Turn on your f*@&ing lights!”
In my defense, I had my lights on when I first ventured out. I’d turned off my car and lights at Auto Zone a block away, so it’s not like I’d had them off very long. I just forgot to turn them on is all. But this guy acted like I’d plotted to ruin his day by not turning on my lights.
Still, what did I do? I apologized! Ugh. I hate when I do that. He dropped the f-bomb and I was the one apologizing? He was the jerkface, not me. Didn’t matter, though. I had Armageddon going on my uterus and his words made me want to cry.
I didn’t, though. I rolled up my window and journeyed on to the Verizon store. I expected there’d be one, maybe two employees tops who’d made it to work, but heavens no! When I walked in, I was greeted by 9 young sharp-dressed men, many of whom snickered when they saw me. I was covered in snow, you already know what my hair looked like, and – flustered – what did I say to them?
“I don’t normally look like this!”
‘Oh I didn’t just say that,’ I thought.
But I had. And they laughed. My FFG was humiliated.
Why did I feel I had to apologize for how I looked?
While one of the guys took my phone away to try and fix it, I sat down and started writing this blog on a couple of deposit slips. I thought about what was really going on. First of all, I was in the throes of hormones, and as such, every little thing in my world felt like it had gone nuclear. OK, I could accept that. Second, just because the world around me felt estranged, it didn’t mean I had to abandon myself, too. Yes, I apologized for things that didn’t need apologizing, but I caught myself before I did it again. Go me!
When Junior came out with a new phone because he couldn’t fix the old one, I thanked him, looking him straight in the eye. What he saw may not have been very attractive, but I didn’t care. How I looked in that moment was neither here nor there. That a guy lobbed the f-bomb at me because I forgot to turn my lights on didn’t matter anymore, either. Junior asked if I knew how to set up my email. I said I did. He smiled and said, “Wow. You don’t know how many people have no idea how to do that. That’s awesome!”
Suffering uterus, bad hair, snow, nuclear Blackberry… There are worse things, and life is what it is. It’s how we react that makes all the difference. Today, as in many days before, I realized that my weight still has a lot to do with my self-image and self-esteem. As I’ve said many times here, just because you lose weight doesn’t mean you lose the baggage. "I yam what I yam." Today was just another one of those reminder days.
How do you respond in the moment of distress? Do you apologize? Run away? Eat? Make excuses? Beat yourself up? And if you catch yourself doing it, how do you work through the moment?
Sabtu, 11 Desember 2010
The Farm Years Part 1: Minnesota Snow
In “honor” of the snow my family is getting back in Minnesota (and will soon be in Pennsylvania), I’m reposting a blog I wrote four years ago on ZenBagLady. It’s not weigh-related, but not everything I post here is, as most of you know. Hope you’re all safe from the weather, wherever you are.
March 2007
According to reports from the folks back home, southwest Minnesota is getting the kind of snow it had back in ‘81-‘82 and ‘82-‘83, what I fondly refer to as “The Farm Years.”
When Bruce and I were engaged during the ‘81-‘82 winter, I’d go out to his family farm before a blizzard hit because I didn’t want to be snowed in for three days with my grandmother and her canasta buddies in the old folks apartment complex, even though she did keep a stash of Southern Comfort in the vegetable crisper.
I loved my grandma and was grateful she let me live with her until I got married, but I took every opportunity I could to avoid watching the “Lawrence Welk Show” and living with the stifling smell of Skin So Soft.
Blizzards were – in a word – fun. While Bruce’s parents stayed on the main floor, Bruce and I took over the upstairs. We put together jigsaw puzzles, played Rook and backgammon, watched The Muppet Show and Dynasty, drank Seagram’s and 7-Up, and listened to music. It could have snowed for weeks on end and we could have cared less.
We were married in April 1982. In June I became pregnant with Carlene, making her due in March, prime blizzard month in Minnesota. We had moved to the family farm in October when his parents retired, and that year, the snow started in earnest in November. One after another the storms came, dumping two, five, 10 inches of snow at a time, and on that part of the prairie, the wind starts somewhere in the middle of South Dakota and doesn’t stop until Wisconsin. It was a mess.
Carlene’s was a complicated pregnancy. Doc Strand referred me to a specialist in Sioux Falls, 40 miles away. That was all good and fine when the roads were clear, but it wasn’t going to do me a lick of good during a blizzard. Even the nearest hospital 11 miles away would prove as futile to get to as Sioux Falls when the snow fell and the wind blew. So good old Doc Strand came up with a plan. If I went into labor during a snowstorm and if Bruce could get me to town, he’d do his best to deliver our baby in his office.
That offered me a little comfort, but I knew the only way I was going to get to town, or even to the end of our half-mile driveway, was in a tractor. At least our International Harvester had an enclosed cab, but getting into it when you’re nine months pregnant would be no easy feat.
Gone were the days and nights of blizzard bliss. Before bed, I’d look out the front door window. If I could see the neighbor’s yard light three-quarters mile away, I knew the snow and wind weren’t too bad and I could make it to town if I went into labor. If I couldn’t, I spent most of the night curled up in a ball in a chair reading, trying to keep my mind off the weather.
The forecast looked good the week before Carlene’s due date, so I decided to do everything I could to go into labor.
There were dozens of empty 50-pound feed pellet bags piled up in the silo room, so one day I hauled them to the burn barrel and burned every last one of them. It took hours. I was exhausted. That night, my uterus cramped like a Charlie horse. ‘Ah ha,’ I thought. ‘I’ll be in labor by morning.’ No such luck.
I moved on to Plan B: sex. That didn’t work. Plan C: driving on the washboard country roads for an hour. Zip. I had a doctor’s appointment on my due date, the day before another snowstorm was forecasted, so I planned to ask my doctor what else I could do to get this kid out before I worried myself to death.
Before I could ask, the doctor said Carlene had been in there long enough and that come hell or high water (or blizzard, as was the case), she was going to be born the next day. And she was, with a little help from pitocin (the most godawful drug ever invented, but that’s a totally different blog for another day).
The snow came and went several more times in those 11 days before Bruce died, but it was beautiful and comforting and I was the happiest I’ve ever been in my life.
Stay safe if you’re encountering bad weather these days, but try to enjoy it. Read a little, drink a little, fool around a little. Make some good memories.
March 2007
According to reports from the folks back home, southwest Minnesota is getting the kind of snow it had back in ‘81-‘82 and ‘82-‘83, what I fondly refer to as “The Farm Years.”
When Bruce and I were engaged during the ‘81-‘82 winter, I’d go out to his family farm before a blizzard hit because I didn’t want to be snowed in for three days with my grandmother and her canasta buddies in the old folks apartment complex, even though she did keep a stash of Southern Comfort in the vegetable crisper.
I loved my grandma and was grateful she let me live with her until I got married, but I took every opportunity I could to avoid watching the “Lawrence Welk Show” and living with the stifling smell of Skin So Soft.
Blizzards were – in a word – fun. While Bruce’s parents stayed on the main floor, Bruce and I took over the upstairs. We put together jigsaw puzzles, played Rook and backgammon, watched The Muppet Show and Dynasty, drank Seagram’s and 7-Up, and listened to music. It could have snowed for weeks on end and we could have cared less.
We were married in April 1982. In June I became pregnant with Carlene, making her due in March, prime blizzard month in Minnesota. We had moved to the family farm in October when his parents retired, and that year, the snow started in earnest in November. One after another the storms came, dumping two, five, 10 inches of snow at a time, and on that part of the prairie, the wind starts somewhere in the middle of South Dakota and doesn’t stop until Wisconsin. It was a mess.
Carlene’s was a complicated pregnancy. Doc Strand referred me to a specialist in Sioux Falls, 40 miles away. That was all good and fine when the roads were clear, but it wasn’t going to do me a lick of good during a blizzard. Even the nearest hospital 11 miles away would prove as futile to get to as Sioux Falls when the snow fell and the wind blew. So good old Doc Strand came up with a plan. If I went into labor during a snowstorm and if Bruce could get me to town, he’d do his best to deliver our baby in his office.
That offered me a little comfort, but I knew the only way I was going to get to town, or even to the end of our half-mile driveway, was in a tractor. At least our International Harvester had an enclosed cab, but getting into it when you’re nine months pregnant would be no easy feat.
Gone were the days and nights of blizzard bliss. Before bed, I’d look out the front door window. If I could see the neighbor’s yard light three-quarters mile away, I knew the snow and wind weren’t too bad and I could make it to town if I went into labor. If I couldn’t, I spent most of the night curled up in a ball in a chair reading, trying to keep my mind off the weather.
The forecast looked good the week before Carlene’s due date, so I decided to do everything I could to go into labor.
There were dozens of empty 50-pound feed pellet bags piled up in the silo room, so one day I hauled them to the burn barrel and burned every last one of them. It took hours. I was exhausted. That night, my uterus cramped like a Charlie horse. ‘Ah ha,’ I thought. ‘I’ll be in labor by morning.’ No such luck.
I moved on to Plan B: sex. That didn’t work. Plan C: driving on the washboard country roads for an hour. Zip. I had a doctor’s appointment on my due date, the day before another snowstorm was forecasted, so I planned to ask my doctor what else I could do to get this kid out before I worried myself to death.
Before I could ask, the doctor said Carlene had been in there long enough and that come hell or high water (or blizzard, as was the case), she was going to be born the next day. And she was, with a little help from pitocin (the most godawful drug ever invented, but that’s a totally different blog for another day).
The snow came and went several more times in those 11 days before Bruce died, but it was beautiful and comforting and I was the happiest I’ve ever been in my life.
Stay safe if you’re encountering bad weather these days, but try to enjoy it. Read a little, drink a little, fool around a little. Make some good memories.
Kamis, 09 Desember 2010
Drip By Drip, You'll Get There
When my kids asked me to buy them something when they were younger and I told them no, their usual retort was, "But Mom! It only costs $____ dollars!"
How bipolar is the word “only”? I mean, it can make you feel really good about something or it can make you feel really bad. In terms of weight, “I only gained a pound!” is the positive “only” I hear a lot this time of year as people navigate holiday parties and family get togethers. It’s the negative “only” – “I only lost a pound” – that I hear said most often, though, most recently from none other than me.
The other day I got on the scale and saw that I’d lost a half a pound of the five I want to lose, and the first thing I thought, felt and said was wrapped up in the negative “only.”
“I only lost a half pound? Ugh!! When will this stupid weight come off? What am I doing wrong?”
I decided I needed to write myself a quick little pep talk.
“With dripping drops of water, even a water jug is filled.” Dhammapada 121-122
I remember I used this quote in a blog I wrote in January 2009 (“A Slow Steady Drip”), and after stepping off the scale the other day, I meditated on it for awhile before looking back at my weight tracker on Weight Watchers.
I lost 1.386 pounds, on average, every week between Jan. 1, 2005 and March 12, 2007. Many of those weeks were “point-something” losses, but obviously those “only”s added up to some serious poundage.
I wish I had a dollar for every time I said to someone, “You can’t lose 100 without first losing a pound, and you don’t lose a pound without first losing .1, .2 and .3.” Now I have to add a dollar to my own coffer because I need to say it to myself right here, right now.
“Lynn, you’ve challenged yourself to lose five pounds. You’ve lost .5 in a month. That might kick up, or if the trend continues you’ll lose five pounds by August. August is going to come whether you’re losing weight or not, so you may as well settle in, do what you’re doing, stay diligent, and allow the weight to come off the way it wants to: point-something by point-something by point-something.
"Try taking ‘only’ out of your vocabulary and see what happens. Don’t let ‘only’ ruin your efforts or negate what you’ve achieved. Say, ‘I lost a half a pound! Woohoo!’ Drip by drip, you’ll get there.”
Pretty smart, eh? Now let’s see if I follow my own advice…
How bipolar is the word “only”? I mean, it can make you feel really good about something or it can make you feel really bad. In terms of weight, “I only gained a pound!” is the positive “only” I hear a lot this time of year as people navigate holiday parties and family get togethers. It’s the negative “only” – “I only lost a pound” – that I hear said most often, though, most recently from none other than me.
The other day I got on the scale and saw that I’d lost a half a pound of the five I want to lose, and the first thing I thought, felt and said was wrapped up in the negative “only.”
“I only lost a half pound? Ugh!! When will this stupid weight come off? What am I doing wrong?”
I decided I needed to write myself a quick little pep talk.
“With dripping drops of water, even a water jug is filled.” Dhammapada 121-122
I remember I used this quote in a blog I wrote in January 2009 (“A Slow Steady Drip”), and after stepping off the scale the other day, I meditated on it for awhile before looking back at my weight tracker on Weight Watchers.
I lost 1.386 pounds, on average, every week between Jan. 1, 2005 and March 12, 2007. Many of those weeks were “point-something” losses, but obviously those “only”s added up to some serious poundage.
I wish I had a dollar for every time I said to someone, “You can’t lose 100 without first losing a pound, and you don’t lose a pound without first losing .1, .2 and .3.” Now I have to add a dollar to my own coffer because I need to say it to myself right here, right now.
“Lynn, you’ve challenged yourself to lose five pounds. You’ve lost .5 in a month. That might kick up, or if the trend continues you’ll lose five pounds by August. August is going to come whether you’re losing weight or not, so you may as well settle in, do what you’re doing, stay diligent, and allow the weight to come off the way it wants to: point-something by point-something by point-something.
"Try taking ‘only’ out of your vocabulary and see what happens. Don’t let ‘only’ ruin your efforts or negate what you’ve achieved. Say, ‘I lost a half a pound! Woohoo!’ Drip by drip, you’ll get there.”
Pretty smart, eh? Now let’s see if I follow my own advice…
Selasa, 07 Desember 2010
Sometimes The Headline Is Enough
There’s nothing like a good headline. Good as in clever, odd, or hilarious when it doesn’t mean to be. (Ever watch the Headlines segment on the "Tonight Show"?) It’s not easy summing up a story in 10 words or less while also making the headline compelling or inviting enough to lure readers.
Here are a few of the ones I’ve collected from online stories over the last year, headlines that actually made me open the story and read it:
Tyra Banks likes to be naked
Old lady finds fawn, beats it with a shovel
Microwaved baby scarred, but thriving
Kitten kicked like football by teenagers
Preacher killed wife, stuffed body in freezer, police say
Man shoots lawn mower, police say
Stripper, 80, still taking her clothes off
Brother to be jailed again for sex with sis
Man escapes from jail after losing weight
Where are the worst teeth in the U.S.?
Oklahoma may allow students to carry guns
Wife with 5 dead husbands investigated
Police shoot man as he beats toddler
5th severed foot found on Canadian coast
Girl divorced at 10
No more skinning seals alive, Canada says
Ad placement is also critical when putting together a newspaper page. I’m not sure if the irony was intentional, but this was page A5 of the Pittsburgh Tribune-Review on Saturday:
“FDA backs expansion of gastric band surgery” alongside an ad for G&G Fitness.
I’m not anti-gastric band surgery per se (click here for a link to the FDA story online), but I’m a little concerned over the new recommendations by the FDA that patients with a BMI of 35 (or 30 if the person has high blood pressure or diabetes) be eligible for the procedure, reduced from the current standard: 40 BMI. This would make 27 million more Americans eligible for gastric bands. 27 million. I can’t fathom.
My hope is that people like me with high blood pressure and who have a 30 BMI (at 5’5”, I would weigh 180 pounds) would maybe look to the right of the page and see the ad for treadmills, ellipticals and bikes and consider diet and exercise before surgery. When I was 180 pounds, I needed to lose 30 pounds to be at a normal BMI of 25. I won’t say “just 30 pounds” because I know losing 30 pounds can be very difficult for some people. But is the reason it’s difficult physical or emotional? I would guess the majority of the time it’s emotional.
I’ve known two people who’ve died from gastric bypass. I’ve also known two people who successfully lost and are maintaining 150-pound losses from the surgery. We could debate the pros and cons ad nauseum, and when someone is morbidly obese (such as I was when my BMI was nearly 50), it might be the right course of action. But 30 pounds? 27 million more people? I’d much rather see us first attack weight issues from the inside out rather than the outside in.
Stepping down off my soap box and opening the question to you. Do you think the FDA is right in recommending lowering the BMI requirements for gastric band surgery?
Here are a few of the ones I’ve collected from online stories over the last year, headlines that actually made me open the story and read it:
Tyra Banks likes to be naked
Old lady finds fawn, beats it with a shovel
Microwaved baby scarred, but thriving
Kitten kicked like football by teenagers
Preacher killed wife, stuffed body in freezer, police say
Man shoots lawn mower, police say
Stripper, 80, still taking her clothes off
Brother to be jailed again for sex with sis
Man escapes from jail after losing weight
Where are the worst teeth in the U.S.?
Oklahoma may allow students to carry guns
Wife with 5 dead husbands investigated
Police shoot man as he beats toddler
5th severed foot found on Canadian coast
Girl divorced at 10
No more skinning seals alive, Canada says
Ad placement is also critical when putting together a newspaper page. I’m not sure if the irony was intentional, but this was page A5 of the Pittsburgh Tribune-Review on Saturday:
“FDA backs expansion of gastric band surgery” alongside an ad for G&G Fitness.
I’m not anti-gastric band surgery per se (click here for a link to the FDA story online), but I’m a little concerned over the new recommendations by the FDA that patients with a BMI of 35 (or 30 if the person has high blood pressure or diabetes) be eligible for the procedure, reduced from the current standard: 40 BMI. This would make 27 million more Americans eligible for gastric bands. 27 million. I can’t fathom.
My hope is that people like me with high blood pressure and who have a 30 BMI (at 5’5”, I would weigh 180 pounds) would maybe look to the right of the page and see the ad for treadmills, ellipticals and bikes and consider diet and exercise before surgery. When I was 180 pounds, I needed to lose 30 pounds to be at a normal BMI of 25. I won’t say “just 30 pounds” because I know losing 30 pounds can be very difficult for some people. But is the reason it’s difficult physical or emotional? I would guess the majority of the time it’s emotional.
I’ve known two people who’ve died from gastric bypass. I’ve also known two people who successfully lost and are maintaining 150-pound losses from the surgery. We could debate the pros and cons ad nauseum, and when someone is morbidly obese (such as I was when my BMI was nearly 50), it might be the right course of action. But 30 pounds? 27 million more people? I’d much rather see us first attack weight issues from the inside out rather than the outside in.
Stepping down off my soap box and opening the question to you. Do you think the FDA is right in recommending lowering the BMI requirements for gastric band surgery?
Sabtu, 04 Desember 2010
I Confess: I Ate The Rubber Egg
Yesterday I did something I don’t usually do: I grabbed breakfast on the run at a gas station.
I’d been out with friends the night before, and rather than drive the 80-mile trek home in the dark, I stayed overnight. I’d not brought along any of my standard breakfast-on-the-go foods, assuming they’d have something I could grab to eat before I headed home the next morning. However, fast forward to 7 a.m. and let’s just say there are a few folks in NW PA who need to go grocery shopping.
I didn’t have time for a sit-down Egg Beater veggie omelet at Bob Evans, so I stopped at Sheetz because I recently discovered I love Sheetz coffee. Yes…coffee.
As many of you know, I’m an avid tea fan, but a few weeks ago I had to drive home from Clarion early in the morning and needed a bit more caffeine than tea provides. Sheetz was about the only place open. I poured a huge cup of half hazelnut and half decaf, dumped in a couple of chocolate and caramel creamers (another unfortunate discovery…they are waaaay yummy) and by mile 10 I was perkier than Sandra Dee cheerleading in a poodle skirt. So when I saw Sheetz conveniently located on my way home yesterday, I stopped in for a coffee fix and something edible.
I could have gotten yogurt. I could have just bought the grapes and been on my way. But no. I had to look at their sandwiches. It’s like I left my head in bed because something about their egg/muffin/cheese thing spoke to me and I followed the voice like a zombie.
When I got on the road, I unwrapped the foil, and the moment I took my first bite, I remembered what it felt like to drive to work after hitting McDonald’s and eating two Egg McMuffins and two hash browns in the car. Something about the taste made me comatose then and now. I kept thinking, ‘The egg looks like rubber, Lynn! There are no redeeming qualities in that white flour English muffin! Don’t eat it!’ and yet the more bites I took, the more bites I wanted. Aaaaach! I consumed that faux sandwich in less than a minute and man, was I paying for it an hour later. I don’t remember my stomach hurting like that after consuming my typical McDonald’s breakfast at 300 pounds, but then, I was hardly in tune with my stomach at the time except to never let it feel hunger.
I cleaned up my act when I got home, eating leftover lentil stew for lunch and a spinach salad for dinner, but all day I craved salt and simple carbs. It’s like that sandwich set off an avalanche of triggers, leaving more than my stomach miserable. I was a bit of an emotional wreck for awhile, trying to work through the reasons why I ate the way I did back in the day and facing how I profess to not be swayed by those reasons now when clearly I am on some level.
Today is a new day and I started it with yogurt and blueberries. It felt almost self-righteous to do it, but I did it anyway because I know if I don’t get all Mom on myself, I’ll listen to that zombie voice and seek out Sheetz or McDonald’s and in a few days be struggling with poundage gained from food triggers rather than something I consciously planned to eat and enjoy.
I’m sure this sounds familiar to some of you, right? I hope? Well, no, I don’t hope you struggle with food triggers, but I know some of you do. How do you respond to your inner zombie comatose voice?
---------------
Congrats to nawrockifamily (Heidi) for winning the Denise Austin DVD giveaway. Thanks for the warm welcome you gave my sister and her review. She’ll be back with more, I promise!
One other thing before I go, I want to give a shout out to a new blog that three of my Refuse To Regain blogging partner Barbara Berkeley’s clients write called "The Refuse To Regain Maintainers: A community of successful weight loss maintainers looking for the answers while finding themselves." Maintenance, as you know, is tough enough without doing it alone. I love that more maintainers are finding community online. Check them out if you get a chance.
I’d been out with friends the night before, and rather than drive the 80-mile trek home in the dark, I stayed overnight. I’d not brought along any of my standard breakfast-on-the-go foods, assuming they’d have something I could grab to eat before I headed home the next morning. However, fast forward to 7 a.m. and let’s just say there are a few folks in NW PA who need to go grocery shopping.
I didn’t have time for a sit-down Egg Beater veggie omelet at Bob Evans, so I stopped at Sheetz because I recently discovered I love Sheetz coffee. Yes…coffee.
As many of you know, I’m an avid tea fan, but a few weeks ago I had to drive home from Clarion early in the morning and needed a bit more caffeine than tea provides. Sheetz was about the only place open. I poured a huge cup of half hazelnut and half decaf, dumped in a couple of chocolate and caramel creamers (another unfortunate discovery…they are waaaay yummy) and by mile 10 I was perkier than Sandra Dee cheerleading in a poodle skirt. So when I saw Sheetz conveniently located on my way home yesterday, I stopped in for a coffee fix and something edible.
I could have gotten yogurt. I could have just bought the grapes and been on my way. But no. I had to look at their sandwiches. It’s like I left my head in bed because something about their egg/muffin/cheese thing spoke to me and I followed the voice like a zombie.
When I got on the road, I unwrapped the foil, and the moment I took my first bite, I remembered what it felt like to drive to work after hitting McDonald’s and eating two Egg McMuffins and two hash browns in the car. Something about the taste made me comatose then and now. I kept thinking, ‘The egg looks like rubber, Lynn! There are no redeeming qualities in that white flour English muffin! Don’t eat it!’ and yet the more bites I took, the more bites I wanted. Aaaaach! I consumed that faux sandwich in less than a minute and man, was I paying for it an hour later. I don’t remember my stomach hurting like that after consuming my typical McDonald’s breakfast at 300 pounds, but then, I was hardly in tune with my stomach at the time except to never let it feel hunger.
I cleaned up my act when I got home, eating leftover lentil stew for lunch and a spinach salad for dinner, but all day I craved salt and simple carbs. It’s like that sandwich set off an avalanche of triggers, leaving more than my stomach miserable. I was a bit of an emotional wreck for awhile, trying to work through the reasons why I ate the way I did back in the day and facing how I profess to not be swayed by those reasons now when clearly I am on some level.
Today is a new day and I started it with yogurt and blueberries. It felt almost self-righteous to do it, but I did it anyway because I know if I don’t get all Mom on myself, I’ll listen to that zombie voice and seek out Sheetz or McDonald’s and in a few days be struggling with poundage gained from food triggers rather than something I consciously planned to eat and enjoy.
I’m sure this sounds familiar to some of you, right? I hope? Well, no, I don’t hope you struggle with food triggers, but I know some of you do. How do you respond to your inner zombie comatose voice?
---------------
Congrats to nawrockifamily (Heidi) for winning the Denise Austin DVD giveaway. Thanks for the warm welcome you gave my sister and her review. She’ll be back with more, I promise!
One other thing before I go, I want to give a shout out to a new blog that three of my Refuse To Regain blogging partner Barbara Berkeley’s clients write called "The Refuse To Regain Maintainers: A community of successful weight loss maintainers looking for the answers while finding themselves." Maintenance, as you know, is tough enough without doing it alone. I love that more maintainers are finding community online. Check them out if you get a chance.
Kamis, 02 Desember 2010
Another Family Review, Another Denise Austin DVD Giveaway!
When two Denise Austin DVDs arrived in the mail recently, I knew just the person to ask to review them: my sister Debbie.
Debbie introduces herself below in her review, but as her little sister, I grew up wanting to be her – to look like her, to dress like her, and to be overall cool like her. One of my favorite memories of Debbie was when we’d go camping in what our family fondly referred to as The Bear Coffin (see “Camping Adventures in the Bear Coffin.”)
As I wrote, Debbie was always kind to me, even when I stole her crutches after she’d injured her foot and after she busted me tape recording her and her boyfriend’s private conversation. She was politically active and tried explaining Vietnam and Watergate to me even though I was more interested in watching Captain Kangaroo and hanging upside down from our backyard elm tree. Mom often made us matching clothes, and during a trip to South Dakota, we both wore what I called our Wonder Woman shorts. They had white stars on blue and purple stripes and I remember being jealous of my beautiful sister who was tall and thin and filled out her shorts in a way my 8-year-old body could not (and never did, for that matter).
So now that you know her a little from my perspective, here’s Debbie and her perspectives on exercise and Denise Austin’s DVD “Quick Burn Cardio.” To throw your name in the hat to win this DVD, leave a comment or send an email to lynn.haraldson@yahoo.com. I’ll draw a winner on Sunday!
From Debra’s Mat: Exercises You’ll Actually Do
My name is Debra Haraldson, the 54-year old sister of Lynn, who asked me to review some exercise DVDs she receives on occasion. She knows to send me only those appropriate for my age and, um, mature body type. If she sends me a kick boxing, Tae Bo, cardio fat burning, boot camp DVD, she’s off my Christmas card list. I’m not a stranger to exercise but sometimes it eludes me, especially on those cold, dark mornings when the only work out I get is hitting the snooze button and pulling the quilt over my head.
Exercise is a necessary evil. When people say “I love to work out” or “I live at the gym” they are lying liars who tell lies. OK, well, perhaps they aren’t but they are INSANE. My exercise of choice is walking. If it’s light and dry at 6:15 a.m., I’m out walking. Plug in my iPod with my NPR podcasts, and I’m good to go. But when October rolls around, it’s dark and usually raining (I live in suburban Seattle) so I have to dust off the dreaded DVDs, move the ottoman to the side, open a window, turn on a fan and start my step aerobic routine.
I prefer step aerobics because the step really gets the heart pumping, and it offers low impact versions of the moves, as demonstrated on the DVD either by the woman still retaining her baby fat or the woman who just this week started an exercise program and is sweating just warming up. I used to do high impact step aerobics but then, well, I got old.
Lynn sent me Denise Austin’s “Quick Burn Cardio” to review. I like Denise Austin. She can be too bubbly at times but I like her common sense approach to working out. “Just do what you can – this is for you” she repeats often enough that I believe her. Some instructors act like drill sergeants. Been there, done that, hated it. This DVD has a 5-minute warm up and a 5-minute cool down. Just enough time for both. In between you can choose either a 20-minute “Interval Training” or a 20-minute “Cardio Weight Training” routine. Or, if you are truly crazy, both.
There’s plenty of high impact moves in the Interval Training but you can certainly convert them to low impact if your joints can’t take the blows or if you are tiring too soon. One women is there to demonstrate all of the low impact alternatives so I tended to watch her. There are also moves where you are fully standing up, then suddenly, on the floor. That isn’t so bad – it’s the getting up that’s hard! I compromised by meeting my knees halfway.
For the “Cardio Weight Training” portion, I suggest standing on thick carpet or an exercise mat. Use small weights, 1 or 2 pounds and you’ll need two of them (of the same weight.) I made the mistake of grabbing a five pounder and practically separated my shoulder from its socket. Work up to a higher weight if you want. Her floor routines were hard on my hips and knees, and I don’t have problems with them normally. Just use common sense. When the pushups began, I took that as a sign from the gods to take a break and have some water!
In my experience with exercise DVDs, the instructors have you doing a routine so long, you’ll see it in your sleep. Denise reduces these to several very short routines so that they don’t become boring. You can also follow the routines with or without her voice instructions, listening only to music.
Overall, I liked this DVD. Some instructors get so fancy with their moves that I get frustrated because I can’t keep up. Exercise should be fun (OK, so I’m a liar too) and not a modern dance audition.
Until next time.
Debbie introduces herself below in her review, but as her little sister, I grew up wanting to be her – to look like her, to dress like her, and to be overall cool like her. One of my favorite memories of Debbie was when we’d go camping in what our family fondly referred to as The Bear Coffin (see “Camping Adventures in the Bear Coffin.”)
As I wrote, Debbie was always kind to me, even when I stole her crutches after she’d injured her foot and after she busted me tape recording her and her boyfriend’s private conversation. She was politically active and tried explaining Vietnam and Watergate to me even though I was more interested in watching Captain Kangaroo and hanging upside down from our backyard elm tree. Mom often made us matching clothes, and during a trip to South Dakota, we both wore what I called our Wonder Woman shorts. They had white stars on blue and purple stripes and I remember being jealous of my beautiful sister who was tall and thin and filled out her shorts in a way my 8-year-old body could not (and never did, for that matter).
So now that you know her a little from my perspective, here’s Debbie and her perspectives on exercise and Denise Austin’s DVD “Quick Burn Cardio.” To throw your name in the hat to win this DVD, leave a comment or send an email to lynn.haraldson@yahoo.com. I’ll draw a winner on Sunday!
From Debra’s Mat: Exercises You’ll Actually Do
My name is Debra Haraldson, the 54-year old sister of Lynn, who asked me to review some exercise DVDs she receives on occasion. She knows to send me only those appropriate for my age and, um, mature body type. If she sends me a kick boxing, Tae Bo, cardio fat burning, boot camp DVD, she’s off my Christmas card list. I’m not a stranger to exercise but sometimes it eludes me, especially on those cold, dark mornings when the only work out I get is hitting the snooze button and pulling the quilt over my head.
Exercise is a necessary evil. When people say “I love to work out” or “I live at the gym” they are lying liars who tell lies. OK, well, perhaps they aren’t but they are INSANE. My exercise of choice is walking. If it’s light and dry at 6:15 a.m., I’m out walking. Plug in my iPod with my NPR podcasts, and I’m good to go. But when October rolls around, it’s dark and usually raining (I live in suburban Seattle) so I have to dust off the dreaded DVDs, move the ottoman to the side, open a window, turn on a fan and start my step aerobic routine.
I prefer step aerobics because the step really gets the heart pumping, and it offers low impact versions of the moves, as demonstrated on the DVD either by the woman still retaining her baby fat or the woman who just this week started an exercise program and is sweating just warming up. I used to do high impact step aerobics but then, well, I got old.
There’s plenty of high impact moves in the Interval Training but you can certainly convert them to low impact if your joints can’t take the blows or if you are tiring too soon. One women is there to demonstrate all of the low impact alternatives so I tended to watch her. There are also moves where you are fully standing up, then suddenly, on the floor. That isn’t so bad – it’s the getting up that’s hard! I compromised by meeting my knees halfway.
For the “Cardio Weight Training” portion, I suggest standing on thick carpet or an exercise mat. Use small weights, 1 or 2 pounds and you’ll need two of them (of the same weight.) I made the mistake of grabbing a five pounder and practically separated my shoulder from its socket. Work up to a higher weight if you want. Her floor routines were hard on my hips and knees, and I don’t have problems with them normally. Just use common sense. When the pushups began, I took that as a sign from the gods to take a break and have some water!
In my experience with exercise DVDs, the instructors have you doing a routine so long, you’ll see it in your sleep. Denise reduces these to several very short routines so that they don’t become boring. You can also follow the routines with or without her voice instructions, listening only to music.
Overall, I liked this DVD. Some instructors get so fancy with their moves that I get frustrated because I can’t keep up. Exercise should be fun (OK, so I’m a liar too) and not a modern dance audition.
Until next time.
Selasa, 30 November 2010
Time To Face The Change. Or Is It?
You don’t have to be a Weight Watcher’s member to know that change may not always be welcome, but it might be for the best.
The new Weight Watchers PointsPlus program puts protein and carbohydrates on the center stage with fiber and fat, and calories are not technically factored. It’s the company’s effort to encourage members to eat more fiber-rich whole foods. I pretty much figured out how to do that as I was losing weight on the old program, but I can see how this new program makes it even easier to do.
As I began tracking all the individual foods I ate yesterday, I thought about the question I posed a few years ago: Which do you prefer: eating a full portion of one thing or eating small portions of several things? Or does it usually depend on what day it is, how creative you’re feeling, and what foods you must use up in the fridge before they grow legs and walk away?
I tend to eat several little things all day, and I also think of food in terms of time. I like to eat slowly and in volume. How long will it take me to eat soup or salad or to drink a latte? It takes me two minutes at most to eat a tube of manicotti (which is the same number of Points as my big salads or hearty soups), and that’s savoring it. It takes me 15 to 20 minutes to eat the salad or soup.
When people ask why I became a vegetarian, I tell them it’s because I get to eat more. And at the end of the day, by eating more I’ve eaten less and I feel better. Of course there are always times when a small piece of something sweet or carby or a half-cup of real ice cream is just the right thing – satisfying and eaten in a matter of a minute. It’s the memory of the taste that lasts so much longer than the actual flavor in your mouth.
I’ve counted Points using the old program for nearly six years. It made sense to me, it worked, it sustained me. Now I’m learning the new PointsPlus system, and while the plan makes a lot of sense (even though it’s going to take me a long time to convert six years of recipes), I wonder if maybe I’m relying too heavily on someone else’s plan rather than the one I’ve morphed into my own. I’m comfortable with how I eat and it won’t change just because a corporation tells me fruit is zero points. I know me, I know my body. If I eat more than two or three fruit servings a day, I will gain weight. Having a glass of wine or two doesn’t derail me. I know that at certain times of the month, simple carbs really are necessary for my mental health. We all learn our needs and our thresholds through trial and error.
Having said that, I still believe in WW and I give the new plan a great deal of credit for encouraging people to eat a more clean, healthy diet. Still, in the end, we all have to do what is right for ourselves, to walk out on the edge and use any plan as a guideline and not the absolute truth for our body mechanics.
Whichever plan you’ve chosen to use, how, the further you get into weight loss or maintenance, has your eating plan changed from the time you started?
The new Weight Watchers PointsPlus program puts protein and carbohydrates on the center stage with fiber and fat, and calories are not technically factored. It’s the company’s effort to encourage members to eat more fiber-rich whole foods. I pretty much figured out how to do that as I was losing weight on the old program, but I can see how this new program makes it even easier to do.
As I began tracking all the individual foods I ate yesterday, I thought about the question I posed a few years ago: Which do you prefer: eating a full portion of one thing or eating small portions of several things? Or does it usually depend on what day it is, how creative you’re feeling, and what foods you must use up in the fridge before they grow legs and walk away?
I tend to eat several little things all day, and I also think of food in terms of time. I like to eat slowly and in volume. How long will it take me to eat soup or salad or to drink a latte? It takes me two minutes at most to eat a tube of manicotti (which is the same number of Points as my big salads or hearty soups), and that’s savoring it. It takes me 15 to 20 minutes to eat the salad or soup.
When people ask why I became a vegetarian, I tell them it’s because I get to eat more. And at the end of the day, by eating more I’ve eaten less and I feel better. Of course there are always times when a small piece of something sweet or carby or a half-cup of real ice cream is just the right thing – satisfying and eaten in a matter of a minute. It’s the memory of the taste that lasts so much longer than the actual flavor in your mouth.
I’ve counted Points using the old program for nearly six years. It made sense to me, it worked, it sustained me. Now I’m learning the new PointsPlus system, and while the plan makes a lot of sense (even though it’s going to take me a long time to convert six years of recipes), I wonder if maybe I’m relying too heavily on someone else’s plan rather than the one I’ve morphed into my own. I’m comfortable with how I eat and it won’t change just because a corporation tells me fruit is zero points. I know me, I know my body. If I eat more than two or three fruit servings a day, I will gain weight. Having a glass of wine or two doesn’t derail me. I know that at certain times of the month, simple carbs really are necessary for my mental health. We all learn our needs and our thresholds through trial and error.
Having said that, I still believe in WW and I give the new plan a great deal of credit for encouraging people to eat a more clean, healthy diet. Still, in the end, we all have to do what is right for ourselves, to walk out on the edge and use any plan as a guideline and not the absolute truth for our body mechanics.
Whichever plan you’ve chosen to use, how, the further you get into weight loss or maintenance, has your eating plan changed from the time you started?
Selasa, 23 November 2010
Gravity and Bookends
“Oh twice as much ain’t twice as good
And can’t sustain like one half could.
It’s wanting more that’s gonna send me to my knees.”
John Mayer “Gravity”
Greetings Thanksgiving and your party potatoes and sweet potatoes and crescent rolls and stuffing and pumpkin pie and Cool Whip and “salads” fluffed with white stuff. Your chips and crudités served with insanely fabulous buttermilk and blue cheese dips. Your drinks and smells and family. Your knowing expectation that we’ll debate whether to play Apples to Apples or Cranium. Your magnetic pull to the table to light candles and place napkins on the lap and contemplate what truly makes us thankful. Oh…and of course, the traditional “olives in the eyes” photo.
I’ve been hearing the song “Gravity” in my head for a few weeks now. It’s ripe with comparisons to all the things I’ve been thinking about these last several weeks, and god knows too much of a good thing, any good thing, can smack us all between the eyes emotionally, or we feel it in our stomachs and muscles and promise to never do it again.
I’ve been in a year-long transition period from mega exercise to low-key exercise, and from being so spot-on plan that Mr. Clean wouldn’t find a speck of dust on my food journal to finding foods that fit more readily into my budget and more hectic lifestyle. And what I’ve found is that twice as much ain’t twice as good.
As many of you know, I didn’t start exercising until I’d lost 110 pounds. I was content to just lose weight and not move. But when I hit190 pounds, I wanted more. I wanted to use the body I’d created and do something – anything – so I began walking. Slowly at first – 1 mile, then 1.25 miles, then 1.5 miles. Then I added some speed until I was up to walking a 5K in 38 minutes. I was stoked. I was unpeeling the possibilities and it built my self-esteem like nothing had before.
From walking I went to working out regularly at the gym, adding strength training to my routine. My weight loss accelerated and before I knew it, I was at goal: 138 pounds. I believe it was exercise that brought my weight down ever further to 128, where I stayed for a few years.
I was crazy for exercise, hitting it 6 hours a week, minimum. Then the joint issues started. I tore both my rotator cuffs within two years of each other, and tore my biceps tendons and needed physical therapy. My left knee had degenerated to the point where 30 minutes on the elliptical was 29 minutes too many. I worried that I’d gain weight, not trusting the math that if I ate less due to less exercise, I’d be OK. (See “I CAN Paint!”) It turned out that twice as much exercise wasn’t twice as good, and it couldn’t sustain like one half could. Experience taught me that, not a book.
In the same spirit of song lyrics, the other day I was driving down the road and I heard Blake Shelton’s “Who Are You When I’m Not Looking.” (Click the title for the YouTube link to the video. Wish I could embed it, but YouTube wouldn’t let me.)
My journals – which I’ve kept since 6th grade – contain all I am when no one else is looking. Food, exercise, emotions…journaling is the record of me. All of me. Keeping a journal keeps me honest. It tells me who I am when I’m not “looking,” when I think I’m doing things “right” or on plan or the way I want. I know how to hold myself together like a couple of bookends, but in private, I pour a little something on the rocks and leave a path to the bathtub and cry when my heart is broken and eat chocolate when my knee hurts and call my sister or sister-in-law or my daughters when it gets to be too much, those times when no one else is looking.
I get asked regularly what got me on this path and what keeps me going. Bottom line: journaling. Writing down – without wondering who’s looking over my shoulder – what I want, how I feel, and what my goals are. Exercise, food and emotions.
So when you face Thanksgiving and all its riches and family stuff, remember you and your intentions. Write them down. Maybe give a listen to John Mayer and Blake Shelton. Twice as much ain’t twice as good, and only YOU know who you are when no one’s looking.
-------------------------
Congrats to Julie M who won the “Pilates For Beginners” DVD!
In the next few weeks I’ll giving away a few more DVDs PLUS my second-annual Nutrition Action Newsletter subscription. It’s a great publication, one I trust to be on the front lines in nutritional information, no matter how controversial.
And can’t sustain like one half could.
It’s wanting more that’s gonna send me to my knees.”
John Mayer “Gravity”
Greetings Thanksgiving and your party potatoes and sweet potatoes and crescent rolls and stuffing and pumpkin pie and Cool Whip and “salads” fluffed with white stuff. Your chips and crudités served with insanely fabulous buttermilk and blue cheese dips. Your drinks and smells and family. Your knowing expectation that we’ll debate whether to play Apples to Apples or Cranium. Your magnetic pull to the table to light candles and place napkins on the lap and contemplate what truly makes us thankful. Oh…and of course, the traditional “olives in the eyes” photo.
I’ve been in a year-long transition period from mega exercise to low-key exercise, and from being so spot-on plan that Mr. Clean wouldn’t find a speck of dust on my food journal to finding foods that fit more readily into my budget and more hectic lifestyle. And what I’ve found is that twice as much ain’t twice as good.
As many of you know, I didn’t start exercising until I’d lost 110 pounds. I was content to just lose weight and not move. But when I hit190 pounds, I wanted more. I wanted to use the body I’d created and do something – anything – so I began walking. Slowly at first – 1 mile, then 1.25 miles, then 1.5 miles. Then I added some speed until I was up to walking a 5K in 38 minutes. I was stoked. I was unpeeling the possibilities and it built my self-esteem like nothing had before.
From walking I went to working out regularly at the gym, adding strength training to my routine. My weight loss accelerated and before I knew it, I was at goal: 138 pounds. I believe it was exercise that brought my weight down ever further to 128, where I stayed for a few years.
I was crazy for exercise, hitting it 6 hours a week, minimum. Then the joint issues started. I tore both my rotator cuffs within two years of each other, and tore my biceps tendons and needed physical therapy. My left knee had degenerated to the point where 30 minutes on the elliptical was 29 minutes too many. I worried that I’d gain weight, not trusting the math that if I ate less due to less exercise, I’d be OK. (See “I CAN Paint!”) It turned out that twice as much exercise wasn’t twice as good, and it couldn’t sustain like one half could. Experience taught me that, not a book.
In the same spirit of song lyrics, the other day I was driving down the road and I heard Blake Shelton’s “Who Are You When I’m Not Looking.” (Click the title for the YouTube link to the video. Wish I could embed it, but YouTube wouldn’t let me.)
My journals – which I’ve kept since 6th grade – contain all I am when no one else is looking. Food, exercise, emotions…journaling is the record of me. All of me. Keeping a journal keeps me honest. It tells me who I am when I’m not “looking,” when I think I’m doing things “right” or on plan or the way I want. I know how to hold myself together like a couple of bookends, but in private, I pour a little something on the rocks and leave a path to the bathtub and cry when my heart is broken and eat chocolate when my knee hurts and call my sister or sister-in-law or my daughters when it gets to be too much, those times when no one else is looking.
I get asked regularly what got me on this path and what keeps me going. Bottom line: journaling. Writing down – without wondering who’s looking over my shoulder – what I want, how I feel, and what my goals are. Exercise, food and emotions.
So when you face Thanksgiving and all its riches and family stuff, remember you and your intentions. Write them down. Maybe give a listen to John Mayer and Blake Shelton. Twice as much ain’t twice as good, and only YOU know who you are when no one’s looking.
-------------------------
Congrats to Julie M who won the “Pilates For Beginners” DVD!
In the next few weeks I’ll giving away a few more DVDs PLUS my second-annual Nutrition Action Newsletter subscription. It’s a great publication, one I trust to be on the front lines in nutritional information, no matter how controversial.
Jumat, 19 November 2010
Winter’s Coming! A Hearty Recipe and Giveaway
I’m sorry I’ve been such a neglectful blogger this month. Between the move and getting used to where everything is and registering for school and figuring out what’s wrong with my knee…again…I’ve been a little distracted.
But it’s all good.
While it’s true I tore my medial meniscus in the knee I had surgery on in June, a cortisone shot should put me back on the workout track. The injection is Tuesday…fingers crossed…after which I’ll hope over to the local Y and sign up. Doc wants me in the water for exercise and they have a pool and three different water aerobic classes. Personally I’d rather be on the elliptical or arc trainer, but I’m still under orders to take baby steps, so I’ll get in the water and do as I’m told. Patience, as you know, does not come easy.
In the other area of life adjustment, as of last Wednesday, I am a student at Community College of Allegheny County in the dietetics program. (See “Change From Within” if you want to know about this path I've chosen.) I was able to use the credits from my bachelor’s degree to satisfy the gen ed requirements, so except for chemistry (which I’ll take next summer…ugh! I’m sooo not left brain that way…), all of my classes in the next two years will be nutrition/dietetic related. Talk about food immersion.
Speaking of food immersion, I’m adapting to my new food budget and getting acquainted with the grocery stores around me, not to mention cooking for one. I made a batch of minestrone soup over the weekend and after eating it for dinner on Sunday and lunch on Monday, I still have five servings in the freezer. What a cheap and prolific recipe!
Speaking of prolific recipes, I wanted to share this one with you. Here in the northern climes, the weather has turned nipp(l)y and there’s nothing like whipping up a big batch of comfort food that will stick around longer than one meal. I found this on Eat Better America a couple of years ago and it’s one of the most filling (and yummy) meals I’ve ever made. A cup to a cup and a half goes a long way in keeping you satiated.
Grain and Vegetable Casserole
4 Servings (1 1/2 cups each)
2 medium carrots, halved lengthwise, thinly sliced
1 can (14.5 oz) diced or stewed tomatoes, undrained
1 cup sliced fresh mushrooms
1 can (15 oz) black beans, drained, rinsed
1 cup frozen whole kernel corn
1/2 cup vegetable broth
1/2 cup uncooked pearl barley
1/2 cup finely chopped onion
1/3 cup chopped fresh parsley
1/4 cup uncooked bulgur
1 clove garlic, finely chopped
1 teaspoon Italian seasoning
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon pepper
Shredded Cheddar cheese, if desired
Sliced green onions, if desired
1. Heat oven to 350 degrees. In ungreased 2-quart casserole or 13x9-inch (2-quart) glass baking dish, mix all ingredients except cheese and green onions.
2. Cover with foil; bake 30 minutes. Stir. Cover and bake 30 to 35 minutes longer or until barley and bulgur are tender and liquid is absorbed.
3. To serve, sprinkle with cheese and green onions.
Now on to the giveaway. Daughter Carlene recently spent some time with “10-Minute Solution: Pilates for Beginners.” If you’d like to throw your name in the hat to win this DVD, leave a comment below or send an email to lynn.haraldson@yahoo.com. I’ll draw a winner on Tuesday, November 23.
Pilates is a great way to increase strength, balance, and posture. It requires you to work against your own body weight to build muscle rather than lifting hand weights, and promotes a strong core to ensure balance.
With that said, I don’t know if Pilates and I can ever be best friends. I respect it and the results it can generate, but it is not an easy road.
Let’s just say I got through “10-Minute Solution: Pilates for Beginners” and didn’t hate it. The DVD is made up of five separate segments, including Core Basics, Lower Body Basics, Upper Body Basics, Total Body Combo, and Long & Limber Stretch. Because each segment is only 10 minutes long, time really goes quickly (bonus!). And because it’s a beginners DVD, the instructor spends ample time explaining correct breathing techniques and positioning. Each segment can be played individually, or you can create your own routine, choosing the sections that you enjoy best.
The only segment that I found especially difficult was the Upper Body Basics. I, like my mother, have arthritic wrists and could not do the plank exercises very well. Planks require you to balance on your forearms and your toes, which is great for the core, but sadly, very bad for my wrists. I was able to do only about half of that of the instructor. Everything else, while challenging (considering my abs are hurting two days later), was achievable.
If you’ve always wanted to try Pilates, then I highly recommend this DVD. It is the best beginner Pilates workout I’ve encountered so far. Enjoy!
But it’s all good.
While it’s true I tore my medial meniscus in the knee I had surgery on in June, a cortisone shot should put me back on the workout track. The injection is Tuesday…fingers crossed…after which I’ll hope over to the local Y and sign up. Doc wants me in the water for exercise and they have a pool and three different water aerobic classes. Personally I’d rather be on the elliptical or arc trainer, but I’m still under orders to take baby steps, so I’ll get in the water and do as I’m told. Patience, as you know, does not come easy.
In the other area of life adjustment, as of last Wednesday, I am a student at Community College of Allegheny County in the dietetics program. (See “Change From Within” if you want to know about this path I've chosen.) I was able to use the credits from my bachelor’s degree to satisfy the gen ed requirements, so except for chemistry (which I’ll take next summer…ugh! I’m sooo not left brain that way…), all of my classes in the next two years will be nutrition/dietetic related. Talk about food immersion.
Speaking of food immersion, I’m adapting to my new food budget and getting acquainted with the grocery stores around me, not to mention cooking for one. I made a batch of minestrone soup over the weekend and after eating it for dinner on Sunday and lunch on Monday, I still have five servings in the freezer. What a cheap and prolific recipe!
Speaking of prolific recipes, I wanted to share this one with you. Here in the northern climes, the weather has turned nipp(l)y and there’s nothing like whipping up a big batch of comfort food that will stick around longer than one meal. I found this on Eat Better America a couple of years ago and it’s one of the most filling (and yummy) meals I’ve ever made. A cup to a cup and a half goes a long way in keeping you satiated.
Grain and Vegetable Casserole
4 Servings (1 1/2 cups each)
2 medium carrots, halved lengthwise, thinly sliced
1 can (14.5 oz) diced or stewed tomatoes, undrained
1 cup sliced fresh mushrooms
1 can (15 oz) black beans, drained, rinsed
1 cup frozen whole kernel corn
1/2 cup vegetable broth
1/2 cup uncooked pearl barley
1/2 cup finely chopped onion
1/3 cup chopped fresh parsley
1/4 cup uncooked bulgur
1 clove garlic, finely chopped
1 teaspoon Italian seasoning
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon pepper
Shredded Cheddar cheese, if desired
Sliced green onions, if desired
1. Heat oven to 350 degrees. In ungreased 2-quart casserole or 13x9-inch (2-quart) glass baking dish, mix all ingredients except cheese and green onions.
2. Cover with foil; bake 30 minutes. Stir. Cover and bake 30 to 35 minutes longer or until barley and bulgur are tender and liquid is absorbed.
3. To serve, sprinkle with cheese and green onions.
Now on to the giveaway. Daughter Carlene recently spent some time with “10-Minute Solution: Pilates for Beginners.” If you’d like to throw your name in the hat to win this DVD, leave a comment below or send an email to lynn.haraldson@yahoo.com. I’ll draw a winner on Tuesday, November 23.
With that said, I don’t know if Pilates and I can ever be best friends. I respect it and the results it can generate, but it is not an easy road.
Let’s just say I got through “10-Minute Solution: Pilates for Beginners” and didn’t hate it. The DVD is made up of five separate segments, including Core Basics, Lower Body Basics, Upper Body Basics, Total Body Combo, and Long & Limber Stretch. Because each segment is only 10 minutes long, time really goes quickly (bonus!). And because it’s a beginners DVD, the instructor spends ample time explaining correct breathing techniques and positioning. Each segment can be played individually, or you can create your own routine, choosing the sections that you enjoy best.
If you’ve always wanted to try Pilates, then I highly recommend this DVD. It is the best beginner Pilates workout I’ve encountered so far. Enjoy!
Senin, 15 November 2010
Lessons Of A Laundromat
The last box is unpacked; pictures, prints and mirrors are hung on the walls; the furniture is where I want it (for now); the bathroom is organized; and the kitchen is user friendly.
Now it’s time to live here, settle into a routine and find a mechanic, a gym, the library, the nearest liquor store, and the post office.
Saturday, out of sheer necessity (i.e. lack of clean underwear), I found a laundromat. Now for most people, going to the laundromat is a no-brainer. You wash, you dry, you read a book to pass the time. For me, it’s outside my safety zone and therefore subject to way more planning and thought than necessary. And yet despite all my planning, I still screwed up.
I’d separated the laundry at home: a bag of whites, a bag of darks and a bag of blankets. I packed my book, my glasses and my phone. I had a $10 bill and went to the bank for quarters. Then I drove to the laundromat, took my bags out of the hatch, locked the car, walked inside, set the laundry on the floor, and realized I’d left my soap and dryer sheets at home.
‘Don’t panic!’ I told myself. ‘There’s a soap dispenser on the wall.’ I put in a quarter and the quarter came out the coin return. I put in a different quarter and that quarter came out the coin return.
“It don’t work,” said a man leaning over the counter. “The change machine don’t work either.”
Erg!
“Do you mind Gain?” asked a woman who was texting on her cell phone. “’Cuz you can use some of my Gain if you want.”
“Really?” I said. “Thank you.”
She handed me her bottle of detergent and said, “I don’t have any fabric softener, though.”
“That’s OK, I’ll go over to the store across the parking lot. Community is a grocery store, right?” I asked.
“Yeah,” she said, “but go to Family Dollar or Big Lots. It’ll be cheaper.”
I held out a handful of quarters to pay her for the soap, but she just smiled and said no, and told me which washers worked best before resuming her texting conversation.
After starting my wash, I went to Family Dollar and bought dryer sheets, then I went back to the bank for more quarters. (Seriously? $9 to wash three loads?) By the time I returned to the laundromat, my clothes were washed so I put them in two of the dryers that a man with sunglasses told me were the best.
I sat on the sorting table in front of the dryers and took my book out of my bag. The Gain-sharing lady was folding her clothes and placing them in her laundry bags. I’d brought my laundry bags back out to my car. Duh. How did I expect to bring my clean clothes home if I didn’t use the bags? Sometimes I’m overly efficient and don’t think ahead.
As I watched my laundry rise and tumble in the dryer, I thought how familiar it all felt, even though I was in a completely new environment. I’ve been here before, in new territory, screwing up and learning, namely six years ago when I took this last plunge into weight loss.
Weight loss and maintenance are like moving and living in new surroundings. Moving can take a long time, a lot of planning, and it doesn’t always go smoothly. Sometimes it takes awhile for you to put everything away and discard all the boxes and packing paper, but eventually (hopefully) you get it done and you move on to the next step: figuring out how to live in your new surroundings.
If during weight loss I’d gotten frustrated and stopped “putting boxes away,” so to speak, I’d not have known the joy of living fully and freely in my new space, unencumbered by my weight. Living at my goal weight, I’m the same basic person (more or less) that I was before losing weight, it’s just that now, everything’s arranged differently, and like living in a different home, the sun shines through different windows. I still have to step outside my comfort zone and ask for help, choose role models, and be a constant student of nutrition and exercise, but that’s just part of maintaining any structure worth saving.
I returned to the laundromat yesterday to finish washing bedding. I remembered everything I learned and brought what I’d forgotten before. A man walked in with a laundry bag and a $10 bill. He inserted the bill into the change machine.
“It doesn’t work,” I said. “But there’s a bank just down the street that will give you quarters. Oh, and that washer right there? Yeah, it’s the best.”
No matter where we are in our weight journey, we learn and we pass along what we’ve learned. I don’t believe anyone can succeed alone, so I hope you’re asking your questions, seeking out role models, finding the best path for you. Moving’s rough, no doubt, but living in the space that is a comfortable body is worth unpacking every last box.
Now it’s time to live here, settle into a routine and find a mechanic, a gym, the library, the nearest liquor store, and the post office.
Saturday, out of sheer necessity (i.e. lack of clean underwear), I found a laundromat. Now for most people, going to the laundromat is a no-brainer. You wash, you dry, you read a book to pass the time. For me, it’s outside my safety zone and therefore subject to way more planning and thought than necessary. And yet despite all my planning, I still screwed up.
I’d separated the laundry at home: a bag of whites, a bag of darks and a bag of blankets. I packed my book, my glasses and my phone. I had a $10 bill and went to the bank for quarters. Then I drove to the laundromat, took my bags out of the hatch, locked the car, walked inside, set the laundry on the floor, and realized I’d left my soap and dryer sheets at home.
‘Don’t panic!’ I told myself. ‘There’s a soap dispenser on the wall.’ I put in a quarter and the quarter came out the coin return. I put in a different quarter and that quarter came out the coin return.
“It don’t work,” said a man leaning over the counter. “The change machine don’t work either.”
Erg!
“Do you mind Gain?” asked a woman who was texting on her cell phone. “’Cuz you can use some of my Gain if you want.”
“Really?” I said. “Thank you.”
She handed me her bottle of detergent and said, “I don’t have any fabric softener, though.”
“That’s OK, I’ll go over to the store across the parking lot. Community is a grocery store, right?” I asked.
“Yeah,” she said, “but go to Family Dollar or Big Lots. It’ll be cheaper.”
I held out a handful of quarters to pay her for the soap, but she just smiled and said no, and told me which washers worked best before resuming her texting conversation.
After starting my wash, I went to Family Dollar and bought dryer sheets, then I went back to the bank for more quarters. (Seriously? $9 to wash three loads?) By the time I returned to the laundromat, my clothes were washed so I put them in two of the dryers that a man with sunglasses told me were the best.
I sat on the sorting table in front of the dryers and took my book out of my bag. The Gain-sharing lady was folding her clothes and placing them in her laundry bags. I’d brought my laundry bags back out to my car. Duh. How did I expect to bring my clean clothes home if I didn’t use the bags? Sometimes I’m overly efficient and don’t think ahead.
As I watched my laundry rise and tumble in the dryer, I thought how familiar it all felt, even though I was in a completely new environment. I’ve been here before, in new territory, screwing up and learning, namely six years ago when I took this last plunge into weight loss.
Weight loss and maintenance are like moving and living in new surroundings. Moving can take a long time, a lot of planning, and it doesn’t always go smoothly. Sometimes it takes awhile for you to put everything away and discard all the boxes and packing paper, but eventually (hopefully) you get it done and you move on to the next step: figuring out how to live in your new surroundings.
If during weight loss I’d gotten frustrated and stopped “putting boxes away,” so to speak, I’d not have known the joy of living fully and freely in my new space, unencumbered by my weight. Living at my goal weight, I’m the same basic person (more or less) that I was before losing weight, it’s just that now, everything’s arranged differently, and like living in a different home, the sun shines through different windows. I still have to step outside my comfort zone and ask for help, choose role models, and be a constant student of nutrition and exercise, but that’s just part of maintaining any structure worth saving.
I returned to the laundromat yesterday to finish washing bedding. I remembered everything I learned and brought what I’d forgotten before. A man walked in with a laundry bag and a $10 bill. He inserted the bill into the change machine.
“It doesn’t work,” I said. “But there’s a bank just down the street that will give you quarters. Oh, and that washer right there? Yeah, it’s the best.”
No matter where we are in our weight journey, we learn and we pass along what we’ve learned. I don’t believe anyone can succeed alone, so I hope you’re asking your questions, seeking out role models, finding the best path for you. Moving’s rough, no doubt, but living in the space that is a comfortable body is worth unpacking every last box.
Selasa, 09 November 2010
Anchors A-Weigh
In mindfulness meditation, the instruction is to choose an anchor that will keep you present and bring you back to the present when your mind has wandered. Most of the time that anchor is the breath. But staying with the breath as the mind goes off in a million directions is, as Tara Brach says, “…basic and it’s hard.”
Things are different here in my new place. The hot water’s on the right, the refrigerator door opens on the left, the stove is electric, I share a wall with neighbors, I have a garage, there’s carpet in the bathroom, I have cable, and the walls are made of plaster. And because the walls are plaster, anything I want to hang must be anchored.
In bed this morning, meditating and watching the sun rise through the blinds, I thought, ‘I am a plaster wall.’
I need anchors.
Until today, I hadn’t exercised in two weeks and I’ve weighed in twice. I’ve eaten pretty much on plan, but not as consciously as usual. Between the move and a couple of medical issues, I haven’t had the time or energy to do anything except deal with my life. I’ve moved through these last few weeks feeling like a stranger in a strange land. Years ago when I lost weight, my usual MO when times were tough was to follow the free fall into its usual abyss of easy comforts. This time, at least, I’ve had enough sense to grab on to the sides and pull myself back up.
When I worked out this morning, I felt anchored again, like I’d come home, come back to the breath, come back to the present moment. Making soup and paprikash and omelets and other familiar foods this week has helped me stay anchored, too. So does the company of people who “get it.” People who understand the whole weight thing.
In a recent blog, Debby from Debby Weighs In posted something that felt like an anchored breath. Here’s a bit of what she wrote:
“So, when I went to the gym last Wednesday, and weighed four pounds over my current maintenance goal, I have to admit it threw me for a loop…I wanted to restrict my diet severely. I wanted to exercise it off. I also wanted to eat myself into oblivion. But I didn’t do anything. I just kept eating the same way I usually do (healthy, moderately,) and I just kept exercising like I always do…
“Sunday…I got up early and headed to the gym for a workout, but mostly to weigh myself and see what the situation was. My weight was DOWN five pounds, one pound less than my maintenance goal. Disaster averted.
“But was disaster ever really there? I went on to have a most vigorous workout, buoyed on by my ‘big loss.’ I wanted to eat to celebrate. I wanted to up my exercise. But I didn’t. I ate the same way I always do.”
Disaster in this weight-loss/maintenance journey might feel eminent, but disaster is never really there if our anchors are in place. Anchors keep us present. They keep us mindful of why we eat and move the way we do. Anchors hold our plaster walls in place. But staying anchored is as basic as it is hard.
So what are your anchors? What keeps you from freefalling on this path?
Things are different here in my new place. The hot water’s on the right, the refrigerator door opens on the left, the stove is electric, I share a wall with neighbors, I have a garage, there’s carpet in the bathroom, I have cable, and the walls are made of plaster. And because the walls are plaster, anything I want to hang must be anchored.
In bed this morning, meditating and watching the sun rise through the blinds, I thought, ‘I am a plaster wall.’
I need anchors.
Until today, I hadn’t exercised in two weeks and I’ve weighed in twice. I’ve eaten pretty much on plan, but not as consciously as usual. Between the move and a couple of medical issues, I haven’t had the time or energy to do anything except deal with my life. I’ve moved through these last few weeks feeling like a stranger in a strange land. Years ago when I lost weight, my usual MO when times were tough was to follow the free fall into its usual abyss of easy comforts. This time, at least, I’ve had enough sense to grab on to the sides and pull myself back up.
When I worked out this morning, I felt anchored again, like I’d come home, come back to the breath, come back to the present moment. Making soup and paprikash and omelets and other familiar foods this week has helped me stay anchored, too. So does the company of people who “get it.” People who understand the whole weight thing.
In a recent blog, Debby from Debby Weighs In posted something that felt like an anchored breath. Here’s a bit of what she wrote:
“So, when I went to the gym last Wednesday, and weighed four pounds over my current maintenance goal, I have to admit it threw me for a loop…I wanted to restrict my diet severely. I wanted to exercise it off. I also wanted to eat myself into oblivion. But I didn’t do anything. I just kept eating the same way I usually do (healthy, moderately,) and I just kept exercising like I always do…
“Sunday…I got up early and headed to the gym for a workout, but mostly to weigh myself and see what the situation was. My weight was DOWN five pounds, one pound less than my maintenance goal. Disaster averted.
“But was disaster ever really there? I went on to have a most vigorous workout, buoyed on by my ‘big loss.’ I wanted to eat to celebrate. I wanted to up my exercise. But I didn’t. I ate the same way I always do.”
Disaster in this weight-loss/maintenance journey might feel eminent, but disaster is never really there if our anchors are in place. Anchors keep us present. They keep us mindful of why we eat and move the way we do. Anchors hold our plaster walls in place. But staying anchored is as basic as it is hard.
So what are your anchors? What keeps you from freefalling on this path?
Sabtu, 06 November 2010
Does It Get Easier?
I've had an interesting email exchange today with my friend Melissa, who has lost 116 pounds and wants to lose another 70. She has a great attitude, but she asked me a question that I'm sure a lot of people wonder as they lose weight. I know I did. Still do sometimes.
I thought I'd open up her question for discussion here in the comments since we each lose weight with a myriad of attitudes, emotions and experiences. I'm just one person with one answer.
Here's what she wrote: "I am feeling a lot better about myself, and I am still learning every single day how to better take care of my body. It's kind of scary to realize that even after losing all of this weight, I am still officially obese. But those are the facts, and they make my drive to keep moving forward even stronger.
"Does it ever get easier? I have to say that sometimes the stress of constantly working to lose can be overwhelming at times. I know that I can never go back to eating like I did. In fact, I don't even want to. But, it is the constant pressure of trying to lose that weighs on me at times. Does that make any sense?"
Makes total sense to me. How about you? Does it get easier?
Thanks for considering this. Leave a comment or send me an email. I look forward to what you have to say about this.
I thought I'd open up her question for discussion here in the comments since we each lose weight with a myriad of attitudes, emotions and experiences. I'm just one person with one answer.
Here's what she wrote: "I am feeling a lot better about myself, and I am still learning every single day how to better take care of my body. It's kind of scary to realize that even after losing all of this weight, I am still officially obese. But those are the facts, and they make my drive to keep moving forward even stronger.
"Does it ever get easier? I have to say that sometimes the stress of constantly working to lose can be overwhelming at times. I know that I can never go back to eating like I did. In fact, I don't even want to. But, it is the constant pressure of trying to lose that weighs on me at times. Does that make any sense?"
Makes total sense to me. How about you? Does it get easier?
Thanks for considering this. Leave a comment or send me an email. I look forward to what you have to say about this.
Minggu, 31 Oktober 2010
What's Your "What If..." Weight?
I heard Christmas music in Wal-Mart last week. And yesterday, there was a 20-foot Christmas tree near the front door.
Tis the season, my friends. The Season of Food.
I’ve come a long ways from my early days of weight loss and my “Thou shalt not eat __________” mentality. Adopting such a hard-core view was necessary at the time, but through the help of time and my weight-minded friends (particularly the WW 100+ board alums), I’ve learned a bit about discipline and balance since 2005. But food is still a challenge and always will be.
Walking hand-in-hand with that challenge is the way I view and live within my body. I’ve been feeling bulky lately, and when I walk, I don’t “glide along” quite like I used to. I feel more like a gorilla. That’s why I laughed out loud while packing my office yesterday and came across this cartoon:
I remembered I’d posted it on my original website, Lynn’s Weight-Loss Journey, so I went back and read the post that went with it. What I wrote still speaks to me nearly three years later.
When I was 16, I weighed 150 pounds. That was about 20 pounds more than would be considered normal for my age and height, but at a size 12/14, I was hardly ginormous. Yet that’s what I thought I was. Self-conscious, I avoided walking past certain boys in school because I was afraid they’d “moo” at me or call me fat. They did that to a lot of girls who I felt were my size.
My negative body image caused me to make a lot of poor choices when it came to sex and relationships. Although I had some nice boyfriends in high school, the kind who really did like me for who I was, I always felt there was a “catch,” that somehow they were lacking because they liked me.
When I was nearly 300 pounds, this cartoon’s sentiment was most certainly true for me. I always dreamed of “that day” when I’d be 150 again. All my problems would disappear, I’d have self-esteem to spare, and life would be the way I always knew it could be, all because I weighed 150 pounds again.
I’m well below 150 now and problems still arise and I often lack self-esteem, although I admit not to the extreme of nearly 170 pounds ago. My weight, while definitely an important factor in my overall wellbeing, cannot define my life. I am (and so are you) more than weight, and yet I still base a good deal of self-worth on the number on the scale, the size on a tag, and the width of my hips.
How to undo that? Talking with friends who understand weight loss and maintenance, journaling, meditating, and reminding myself daily that I’m OK just as I am right in this moment.
My question to you is this: What do you think your life will be like when you get to goal, or even when you lose 5, 10 or 20 pounds? How do you stay balanced? And has your definition of “normal” weight changed since you were younger?
Tis the season, my friends. The Season of Food.
I’ve come a long ways from my early days of weight loss and my “Thou shalt not eat __________” mentality. Adopting such a hard-core view was necessary at the time, but through the help of time and my weight-minded friends (particularly the WW 100+ board alums), I’ve learned a bit about discipline and balance since 2005. But food is still a challenge and always will be.
Walking hand-in-hand with that challenge is the way I view and live within my body. I’ve been feeling bulky lately, and when I walk, I don’t “glide along” quite like I used to. I feel more like a gorilla. That’s why I laughed out loud while packing my office yesterday and came across this cartoon:
I remembered I’d posted it on my original website, Lynn’s Weight-Loss Journey, so I went back and read the post that went with it. What I wrote still speaks to me nearly three years later.
When I was 16, I weighed 150 pounds. That was about 20 pounds more than would be considered normal for my age and height, but at a size 12/14, I was hardly ginormous. Yet that’s what I thought I was. Self-conscious, I avoided walking past certain boys in school because I was afraid they’d “moo” at me or call me fat. They did that to a lot of girls who I felt were my size.
My negative body image caused me to make a lot of poor choices when it came to sex and relationships. Although I had some nice boyfriends in high school, the kind who really did like me for who I was, I always felt there was a “catch,” that somehow they were lacking because they liked me.
When I was nearly 300 pounds, this cartoon’s sentiment was most certainly true for me. I always dreamed of “that day” when I’d be 150 again. All my problems would disappear, I’d have self-esteem to spare, and life would be the way I always knew it could be, all because I weighed 150 pounds again.
I’m well below 150 now and problems still arise and I often lack self-esteem, although I admit not to the extreme of nearly 170 pounds ago. My weight, while definitely an important factor in my overall wellbeing, cannot define my life. I am (and so are you) more than weight, and yet I still base a good deal of self-worth on the number on the scale, the size on a tag, and the width of my hips.
How to undo that? Talking with friends who understand weight loss and maintenance, journaling, meditating, and reminding myself daily that I’m OK just as I am right in this moment.
My question to you is this: What do you think your life will be like when you get to goal, or even when you lose 5, 10 or 20 pounds? How do you stay balanced? And has your definition of “normal” weight changed since you were younger?
Jumat, 29 Oktober 2010
Packing, Periods and Purging
This was probably not the most prudent time for me to take the 10-day progesterone regimen my doctor wanted me to start to rid me of my “endometrial issue.” But I did, and it’s working…sort of. Only now I’m packing while cramping and hyper and bloated with a few brain farts thrown in for good measure.
Thank goodness for Carlene and Tammy. They helped keep me sane yesterday.
Carlene, as you know, is my daughter, and Tammy is my friend who I met three years ago when she agreed to be the person who cleaned my house after I was diagnosed with severe osteoarthritis.
I wish all of you a Tammy in your life. She is crazy attentive to bathtubs and can scrub a white linoleum kitchen to sparkling like no one’s business. Just 5’2”, she somehow cleans the fluorescent ceiling light in the kitchen – 10 feet in the air – balanced between the kitchen sink and a stepladder. I can’t watch.
Tammy also introduced me to Mary Kay products. I love TimeWise everything. Makes my skin feel like I’m 16 again. Well, 30 anyway. The wrinkles just keep coming, but as long as my face doesn’t feel like leather, I’m good to go. Bring on old age.
Tammy came over yesterday and helped Carlene and I pack up the dining room and living room – the two rooms that contain my most precious possessions. They aren’t pricey by any means, but I’m a collector of memories and everything I own has meaning.
I have my great-grandmothers stereoviewer and the 3-D cards she’d brought with her from Norway; a carnival glass relish dish my grandmother Katinka won at a raffle at her local movie house in the 1930s; a collection of postcards from my hometown in Minnesota; German porcelain pitchers and cups painted with Victorian roses; and an unusual collection of books*. Carlene and Tammy wrapped everything and boxed them while I went through photo albums and tried not to cry. You don’t live somewhere for nearly 20 years or be with someone 14 without a few photos.
Leaving Clarion and leaving my relationship is hard enough without the emotional upheaval that hormones bring. I feel like I swallowed Lake Erie after I went to Presque Isle last week. That was the day I started this 10-day progesterone hell, the third (fourth?) time my doctor has prescribed it to get things moving.
Only having a few periods in nearly four years is a lot like allowing dust bunnies to accumulate under your bed. You can’t see them, but eventually you have to clean them out. I tell you this only to advise you to be vigilant about your body and how it functions. Make sure, as you lose weight, to pay attention to your girlie parts. If you aren’t menstruating the way you used to, tell your doctor. If something feels “off,” tell your doctor. Losing weight – especially a lot of weight when you are over 40 – creates havoc in your body. The poor thing gets confused.
Purging my body is like purging my house. It’s painful and it’s cathartic, poignant yet rote. I want to stay with what’s safe and familiar but at the same time I need to move beyond what I know and discover more truths.
I don’t always understand my body, but I’m not afraid of it any longer. I don’t completely understand why my marriage fell apart, either, but I’m not afraid of my future outside of it. It’s just different. A forced period, an unexpected move…in many ways they’re exciting in the same way you anticipate walking into a Halloween haunted house. You know the monsters aren’t real, but they’ll scare you just the same.
Have a healthy weekend, steer clear of the trick or treat candy, and move around a little. I’ll blog again from my new home.
------------------
Congratulations to Tabatha, who won the Denise Austin “Hot Body Yoga” DVD this morning! Look for another Carlene DVD review and giveaway in the next few weeks. I think she’s got her eye on a Pilates workout.
----------------------
* I’d written about my book collection a few years ago on ZenBagLady. Just to warn you, it is rated PG-13. Click here to view.
Thank goodness for Carlene and Tammy. They helped keep me sane yesterday.
Carlene, as you know, is my daughter, and Tammy is my friend who I met three years ago when she agreed to be the person who cleaned my house after I was diagnosed with severe osteoarthritis.
I wish all of you a Tammy in your life. She is crazy attentive to bathtubs and can scrub a white linoleum kitchen to sparkling like no one’s business. Just 5’2”, she somehow cleans the fluorescent ceiling light in the kitchen – 10 feet in the air – balanced between the kitchen sink and a stepladder. I can’t watch.
Tammy also introduced me to Mary Kay products. I love TimeWise everything. Makes my skin feel like I’m 16 again. Well, 30 anyway. The wrinkles just keep coming, but as long as my face doesn’t feel like leather, I’m good to go. Bring on old age.
Tammy came over yesterday and helped Carlene and I pack up the dining room and living room – the two rooms that contain my most precious possessions. They aren’t pricey by any means, but I’m a collector of memories and everything I own has meaning.
I have my great-grandmothers stereoviewer and the 3-D cards she’d brought with her from Norway; a carnival glass relish dish my grandmother Katinka won at a raffle at her local movie house in the 1930s; a collection of postcards from my hometown in Minnesota; German porcelain pitchers and cups painted with Victorian roses; and an unusual collection of books*. Carlene and Tammy wrapped everything and boxed them while I went through photo albums and tried not to cry. You don’t live somewhere for nearly 20 years or be with someone 14 without a few photos.
Only having a few periods in nearly four years is a lot like allowing dust bunnies to accumulate under your bed. You can’t see them, but eventually you have to clean them out. I tell you this only to advise you to be vigilant about your body and how it functions. Make sure, as you lose weight, to pay attention to your girlie parts. If you aren’t menstruating the way you used to, tell your doctor. If something feels “off,” tell your doctor. Losing weight – especially a lot of weight when you are over 40 – creates havoc in your body. The poor thing gets confused.
Purging my body is like purging my house. It’s painful and it’s cathartic, poignant yet rote. I want to stay with what’s safe and familiar but at the same time I need to move beyond what I know and discover more truths.
I don’t always understand my body, but I’m not afraid of it any longer. I don’t completely understand why my marriage fell apart, either, but I’m not afraid of my future outside of it. It’s just different. A forced period, an unexpected move…in many ways they’re exciting in the same way you anticipate walking into a Halloween haunted house. You know the monsters aren’t real, but they’ll scare you just the same.
Have a healthy weekend, steer clear of the trick or treat candy, and move around a little. I’ll blog again from my new home.
------------------
Congratulations to Tabatha, who won the Denise Austin “Hot Body Yoga” DVD this morning! Look for another Carlene DVD review and giveaway in the next few weeks. I think she’s got her eye on a Pilates workout.
----------------------
* I’d written about my book collection a few years ago on ZenBagLady. Just to warn you, it is rated PG-13. Click here to view.
Rabu, 27 Oktober 2010
Denise Austin's "Hot Body Yoga" DVD Review and Giveaway!
The few times I've tried yoga, I've failed miserably. After reading what Carlene wrote about Denise Austin's "Hot Body Yoga," I may have to try again.
If you’d like to throw your name in the hat to win this DVD, leave a comment below or send an email to lynn.haraldson@yahoo.com. I’ll draw a winner this Friday, October 29.
P.S. Thank you again for your overwhelmingly kind support in light of my last post. It's not easy putting such private matters out there, but it was necessary to let you know what was going on because if there's one thing we all know about weight loss and maintenance, it's that life keeps going whether we're eating well or exercising or not.
Now...Carlene's review.
I just tried it for the first time, working out to Denise Austin’s "Hot Body Yoga," and what I enjoyed most, besides Denise’s positive encouragement and perky personality, is the way it stretched my lower back and hips.
Having suffered from hip pain for the past three years, I’ve blacklisted many workouts. When my hip hurts, it also affects my lower back and my feet, which makes working out a literal pain in the butt. Stretching has always helped the pain, but it does nothing for my fitness level. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before, but yoga combines stretching with fitness, making it a perfect solution.
In "Hot Body Yoga," Denise has two 30-minute workout options: Yoga Fit and Yoga Sculpt. Yoga Fit is the easier of the two, providing basic yoga moves and balance poses. As a beginner, I was able to do most of these moves and poses without losing my balance or falling over. Always a big plus! However, there were a few I had to modify since my abs and arms are not exactly in top-notch condition.
Yoga Sculpt is much the same as Yoga Fit, only it incorporates hand weights for a more advanced workout. This workout can be done without weights, as well, depending on fitness level. Either way, it will get the heart pumping!
I’m so happy to have discovered yoga, and I hope you all find it enjoyable, too!
Senin, 25 Oktober 2010
Losing my Berings
“Deadlines and commitments. What to leave in, what to leave out.” Bob Seger
Whether you’re a blogger or a reader of blogs, you know that what you put out on the Internet is open for the whole world to see. Discerning what should be written and not written takes a great deal of thought (although my stepsons have not learned that lesson on Facebook).
I’ve written in the last few weeks that I’m facing a lot changes in my life. I’ve hemmed and hawed about what to reveal and put out here, but I decided that if I’m going to continue blogging about weight loss and maintenance, I need to tell you what’s going on in my non-blogging world.
My life in two sentences: My husband, Larry, and I have decided to separate. I’ll be moving to Pittsburgh next week.
I’m not putting details out here except to say that our split is amicable and we are committed to being friends and the best grandparents we can be. And I will miss him. The rest of the details aren’t necessary.
What is important in terms of my blog is how I integrate this loss into my life of weight. This change is a huge challenge for me as I reacquaint myself with living alone and getting comfortable with my new surroundings.
Things are raw right now. If I’m a little late in my replies, a little distant, a little confused, I hope you’ll understand. But I need this blog and I need you. I’ll stay on this path, though. I promise.
I’m just keeping it real. Thank you for everything. You have no idea how much your reading and participation in Lynn’s Weigh means to me.
Whether you’re a blogger or a reader of blogs, you know that what you put out on the Internet is open for the whole world to see. Discerning what should be written and not written takes a great deal of thought (although my stepsons have not learned that lesson on Facebook).
I’ve written in the last few weeks that I’m facing a lot changes in my life. I’ve hemmed and hawed about what to reveal and put out here, but I decided that if I’m going to continue blogging about weight loss and maintenance, I need to tell you what’s going on in my non-blogging world.
My life in two sentences: My husband, Larry, and I have decided to separate. I’ll be moving to Pittsburgh next week.
What is important in terms of my blog is how I integrate this loss into my life of weight. This change is a huge challenge for me as I reacquaint myself with living alone and getting comfortable with my new surroundings.
Things are raw right now. If I’m a little late in my replies, a little distant, a little confused, I hope you’ll understand. But I need this blog and I need you. I’ll stay on this path, though. I promise.
I’m just keeping it real. Thank you for everything. You have no idea how much your reading and participation in Lynn’s Weigh means to me.
Minggu, 24 Oktober 2010
Recovered
Of all the things I’ve discovered I love to do since losing weight, hiking is probably my favorite. It’s certainly the most spiritual.
I’ve done on a lot of hiking in the last few years, but yesterday’s hike – while not the most challenging – was the most momentous, especially since it marked the 4-month anniversary of my knee surgery.
Yesterday, October 23, was not only the first day I’d hiked in four months, it was the first day I felt I’d made the right decision to have my knee repaired and not replaced. The pain has been significant and the rehabilitation slow and many times I doubted if keeping my own equipment was worth it. But yesterday, feeling my knee working the way it did years ago, feeling like myself again and doing something I truly loved, I knew I’d done the right thing.
My doctor told me I’d recover in 6-12 weeks. My physical therapist said 6-12 months. Both were right because if I’ve learned nothing else this summer and fall, it’s that “recovered” is a slippery slope of a word that runs the gamut of meaning. For some, recovered means, “Hey, I’m recovered enough to go to the bathroom alone!” (which I did less than a week after surgery). Others aren’t recovered until they can climb Mt. Everest (which I will never do). I’m somewhere in between. Recovered to me means I can hike for 40 minutes through a gorgeous section of Cook Forest that has been my place of solace for almost 20 years.
I had no idea how long I’d last, but I needed to test the waters and to measure just how strong my knee was. I used my Leki poles and worked up to almost a normal brisk pace, enough to get a little sweat on. Twenty minutes in, I felt great. Surprisingly great. But I knew to turn around if I was going to keep feeling great. The overwhelming sense of accomplishment when we got back to our starting point was second only to the feeling I had the day I made goal nearly four years ago. It was a freaking rush.
We found a log and I took off my backpack.
And ate lunch.
Then I laid down in the leaves and looked at the sky.
And I was very, very happy, despite the burrs.
I was happy because of my fabulously awesome knee.
Is there something you do that makes you this kind of happy? I hope so. I really, truly hope so.
I’ve done on a lot of hiking in the last few years, but yesterday’s hike – while not the most challenging – was the most momentous, especially since it marked the 4-month anniversary of my knee surgery.
My doctor told me I’d recover in 6-12 weeks. My physical therapist said 6-12 months. Both were right because if I’ve learned nothing else this summer and fall, it’s that “recovered” is a slippery slope of a word that runs the gamut of meaning. For some, recovered means, “Hey, I’m recovered enough to go to the bathroom alone!” (which I did less than a week after surgery). Others aren’t recovered until they can climb Mt. Everest (which I will never do). I’m somewhere in between. Recovered to me means I can hike for 40 minutes through a gorgeous section of Cook Forest that has been my place of solace for almost 20 years.
I had no idea how long I’d last, but I needed to test the waters and to measure just how strong my knee was. I used my Leki poles and worked up to almost a normal brisk pace, enough to get a little sweat on. Twenty minutes in, I felt great. Surprisingly great. But I knew to turn around if I was going to keep feeling great. The overwhelming sense of accomplishment when we got back to our starting point was second only to the feeling I had the day I made goal nearly four years ago. It was a freaking rush.
We found a log and I took off my backpack.
Jumat, 22 Oktober 2010
Jumping in Leaves: A Belated National Love Your Body Day Celebration
I found out through MizFit that Wednesday was National Love Your Body Day. I wasn’t feeling the body love that day, nor was I feeling body hate. I had so many things going on that I really didn’t have time to give the day much consideration.
I guess that’s one reason I love my body. It doesn’t need me thinking about it all the time to function.
Yesterday was different. I gave my body a good early morning workout before picking up my granddaughter Claire for a sleepover. When we got home, the sun was shining, even though rain was forecasted, and when I opened Claire’s car door, she said, “Wow! Grammy you have lots of leaves! Let’s rake them in a pile and JUMP!”
Remember a few weeks ago I wrote how Claire loves to hop and jump, and how since my knee surgery in June I haven’t been able to hop or jump? (See “Joy vs. Drudgery: Weight Loss and Hopping.”) The thought of jumping in leaves scared me a little, mostly because I thought I’d be disappointing Claire if I couldn’t do it. Besides, I had groceries to bring in the houses, boxes to unload and bring to the basement, food to put away, bananas to cut up and put in the freezer, yadda yadda yadda.
But the absolute joy on her face as she walked through leaves so thick she couldn’t see the grass was too much for my Grammy heart to stand, so I put everything on the porch and Claire and I went to the garage for rakes. She found her purple sandbox rake and I grabbed the big rake lodged behind the snow shovel. We marched to the front yard and raked a huge pile of leaves.
And we jumped in.
So did Cooper.
It’s hard to hear on the following video, but Claire is talking about how Cooper misses Mathilda, our dog we had to put down last month. She talks so lovingly and compassionately to him. “Wait for Tilly, wait for Tilly,” she says, assuring him that one day he’ll see her again and they’ll jump in leaf piles together. What. A. Kid. *tear*
Then Claire took a nap. (I could have used one, too!) When she woke up, she said, “Look, Grammy! The sun is shining! Let’s go rake leaves again and JUMP!”
And so we bundled up and jumped in.
So did the dog.
And after all was said and done, I thought, ‘Body, I really do love you. Thank you for the arms to rake and the legs to jump, the heart to love and the mind to think, the smile to assure and the eyes that show compassion, the scars of remembrance and the aches that remind me to slow down. I promise to do all I can to keep you running smoothly.’
So happy belated National Love Your Body day. I hope you find many, many reasons to celebrate the body you inhabit, no matter its size or ability.
--------------------------------------------
Thank you to all of you who entered to win Joy Bauer’s cookbook, and a big welcome to all you new Lynn’s Weigh readers, both here and on Facebook! I’ve enjoyed your emails and comments, and I especially appreciated your encouragement regarding my new career goals. Congrats to Bonnie S., who’s name I drew out of the hat! I’ll get the book to you as soon as I get your address.
It’s almost time for another workout DVD review and giveaway, so be looking for that blog soon. Also, after Thanksgiving I’ll be giving away another yearly subscription to Nutrition Action Newsletter, one of my favorite publications.
I guess that’s one reason I love my body. It doesn’t need me thinking about it all the time to function.
Yesterday was different. I gave my body a good early morning workout before picking up my granddaughter Claire for a sleepover. When we got home, the sun was shining, even though rain was forecasted, and when I opened Claire’s car door, she said, “Wow! Grammy you have lots of leaves! Let’s rake them in a pile and JUMP!”
Remember a few weeks ago I wrote how Claire loves to hop and jump, and how since my knee surgery in June I haven’t been able to hop or jump? (See “Joy vs. Drudgery: Weight Loss and Hopping.”) The thought of jumping in leaves scared me a little, mostly because I thought I’d be disappointing Claire if I couldn’t do it. Besides, I had groceries to bring in the houses, boxes to unload and bring to the basement, food to put away, bananas to cut up and put in the freezer, yadda yadda yadda.
But the absolute joy on her face as she walked through leaves so thick she couldn’t see the grass was too much for my Grammy heart to stand, so I put everything on the porch and Claire and I went to the garage for rakes. She found her purple sandbox rake and I grabbed the big rake lodged behind the snow shovel. We marched to the front yard and raked a huge pile of leaves.
It’s hard to hear on the following video, but Claire is talking about how Cooper misses Mathilda, our dog we had to put down last month. She talks so lovingly and compassionately to him. “Wait for Tilly, wait for Tilly,” she says, assuring him that one day he’ll see her again and they’ll jump in leaf piles together. What. A. Kid. *tear*
Then Claire took a nap. (I could have used one, too!) When she woke up, she said, “Look, Grammy! The sun is shining! Let’s go rake leaves again and JUMP!”
And so we bundled up and jumped in.
So did the dog.
And after all was said and done, I thought, ‘Body, I really do love you. Thank you for the arms to rake and the legs to jump, the heart to love and the mind to think, the smile to assure and the eyes that show compassion, the scars of remembrance and the aches that remind me to slow down. I promise to do all I can to keep you running smoothly.’
So happy belated National Love Your Body day. I hope you find many, many reasons to celebrate the body you inhabit, no matter its size or ability.
--------------------------------------------
Thank you to all of you who entered to win Joy Bauer’s cookbook, and a big welcome to all you new Lynn’s Weigh readers, both here and on Facebook! I’ve enjoyed your emails and comments, and I especially appreciated your encouragement regarding my new career goals. Congrats to Bonnie S., who’s name I drew out of the hat! I’ll get the book to you as soon as I get your address.
It’s almost time for another workout DVD review and giveaway, so be looking for that blog soon. Also, after Thanksgiving I’ll be giving away another yearly subscription to Nutrition Action Newsletter, one of my favorite publications.
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