Thursday, March 11, 2010
Yep, today I punched in the number 27 for the age input on my stationary bike. It came and went relatively uneventfully, but this evening my husband really pulled through.
I fasted all day in preparation for whatever he had planned for me that evening -- I knew he was cooking, and I wanted to be hungry for it. Funny, even though I worked out hard this morning, I had a TON of energy all day. That's not the norm for me, maybe it was excitement for good food.
So I came home, and he was all dressed up in a lavender shirt and purple tie (I appreciate that he's "man enough" to wear "girl colors"), and had me immediately change into my bathrobe and slippers. He had a hot (and I mean HOT) bubble bath waiting for me, some tealights, and music playing that we liked to listen to early in our relationship. So I got to soak while he finished dinner. Cliche, sure, but I loved it all the same!
Then came dinner. He had pulled out a dress and shoes for me to wear so it would feel like a date, and when he took me out to the dining area, there was a plate of super-delicious, Primal food waiting for me. He made spicy salmon with a blue cheese cream sauce on a bed of fresh spinach and mashed parsnips with mascarpone and sauteed onions. Yuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuum! I mean, ridiculously good. He also made me a birthday cake. It was flourless, but it did involve sugar. Hey, at least he got one of them, and for what that's worth, it makes it the healthiest treat I've had so far this week. It was a super-dense, thin dark chocolate cake with cocoa powder, topped with a ganache (sp?) of bittersweet and semisweet chocolate, topped with fresh strawberries and blueberries and the lightest dusting of powdered sugar. For non-primal treats, that was definitely awesome. Like a dense brownie, only better. I could've eaten two slices, but it was honestly so dense that if I had the second slice, I would have regretted it. Just more for later. We will try the recipe again using some Stevia to see if it would work to replace the sugar. It was, in the end, a flourless recipe.
So hubby gets about five million brownie points for treating me to a dinner that not only was delicious, but nourishing. And I have plenty more cake for over the break.
My parents sent me more money for my birthday than they should have. They already bought me a fancy recording gizmo over Christmas as an early birthday present, but then they sent me some extra cash monies anyway. So, yeah, Vibram Fivefingers, here I come! The rest will likely be used toward treating hubby and me toward whatever getaway we can muster up. w00t!
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Almost there... As of yesterday, I had undone the damage from my Sunday binge. The goodies seem to be rolling in, though, so while I haven't been bad about resisting, I've allowed myself a treat a day. Monday it was two Cadbury Creme Eggs when I went to refill my prescription, Tuesday it was a brownie at a reception after a concert, tonight it will be a cupcake, and tomorrow it will be whatever hubby bakes up for my birthday. But it's okay, because then next week I can focus on cutting the sugar down to a few times a week and not every day. I mean, that's where I was last week, so it won't be a problem.
I plan on continuing to exercise hard this week and next week, and then maybe one more week, but then kettlebell class is coming back! Woohoo! I liked the class, but didn't like doing kettlebells as much on my own. So I'll be signing up for the class (which will also get my butt to the gym earlier), and from there I'll focus on not overtraining. It will be just kettlebells twice a week and sprinting twice a week, with some long, slow cardio after each. Maybe I'll take a light week just before kettlebells start to make sure my body is recovered. Dunno. I'll see how I feel.
Thanks, OldMom, for the "make a gameplan" idea. I actually have a gameplan and just forgot about it! Gameplan: win an audition or, for my 30th birthday, enlist in a regional band like my friend did. Maybe I won't wait until 30. I'm basically 27, and 3 more years seems like too long to wait. Right now, "living" to me means being settled in an area, building a career and a life. My SIL is in Washington, D.C., working and dating and whatever. She takes time off of work to go and visit friends, visit family, all that kind of stuff. My best friend just got a job in NYC, is living in Manhattan, and lives for going to concerts. A friend of mine from college is living with her boyfriend (they've been together long enough they might as well be married), and the two of them travel a lot.
So I'm sitting here thinking about it, and I'm like, wait a second, their lives aren't that drastically different from mine. We are not going anywhere for spring break because we don't want to. We really don't want to drive that far to visit family, and my husband is like, no, we go there for holidays and we're going there for his brother's graduation, so we're not going to go there for spring break. We're going to sit on our butts and be lazy, I'm gonna put in some quality time playing Final Fantasy XIII, and we might take a road trip. Or maybe I'll have a bunch of clarinetists over for a geek-fest. Something like that.
Hubby is suddenly pretty serious about losing weight. I wonder if I can finally coax him into coming over to my side. I don't think he would argue with Caesar salads with grilled chicken and bacon for lunches, or my muffin-frittatas for breakfast. I bet I can swing this. He lamented the other day that it is really hard for him to resist all the junk food that his co-workers bring in all the time. For him, eating only one slice of cookie-pie and one cupcake was a huge victory. Maybe I can convince him that dropping the bread will make the cookie and cupcake less damaging. Or something to that effect!
And now I'm going to vent, so consider yourself warned.
So on a rather depressing note, apparently last night hubby's brother threatened to kill himself. There was obviously a lot of drama on his side of the family, and he was definitely upset. Maybe I'm just cold-hearted, but my gut reaction was that he won't do it, he's just looking for attention. Of course, then I find out that my MIL handled the situation brilliantly. She told him that he was just saying it because he was trying to control her and that she was going to call the police. Oh, did I say brilliantly? Please note the sarcasm.
The boy is under a lot of pressure right now -- he's 18 years old, he wants a girlfriend, he wants to play baseball, no colleges offered him a scholarship, he firmly believes that going to a podunk university in Tennessee means he's doomed to live in podunk Tennessee, he didn't do as well on his ACTs as he would have liked, and he doesn't know what he wants to do with himself. Fairly typical teenage angst, but he's a particularly introverted teenager. So instead of dying his hair black, drinking, or whatever to distract from the inner turmoil, he just bottled it all up until he decided to declare he can't handle life any more. It's hard for me to understand because I've never been in a situation where I believed all was hopeless. I mean, sure, I took five auditions for my masters and got flat-out rejected from all of them, but everybody around me was way more concerned than I was because I just had this feeling of inner "everything will turn out okay." And it turned out way more than okay, it turned out fabulous! So I don't understand that line of thought, but I can empathize with the situation, if that makes any sense.
The kid's not exactly a go-getter, though. He didn't do well on his ACTs (gee, what do you expect when you move to middle-of-nowhere Tennessee and they have to spend time teaching kids how to speak "proper" English instead of "mountain-speak"), but instead of pulling up his socks, prepping for the next one, and doing better, he just moaned about how he'll never get into college. Well then DO something about it! But no, he just took another test, with no preparation, and did a bit better, but not exceptional.
I can totally understand the baseball thing. He actually takes baseball lessons. He does travelling teams and stuff. So to not have a chance at any college teams is, I'm sure, disheartening. I mean, I've been there. Nine times and counting.
Mostly, I just want to smack the boy. Tell him to suck it up and get over it because he's not doing anything productive, and all he's doing is hurting the people closest to him. For what?
Given how much I love my MIL (please note sarcasm again), I wonder how much of an enabler she has been for all this self-deprecation. Her response to his threat was, "Well, when I was younger, I had REAL reasons to be depressed." Oh please. Way to be the center of the universe. She moved to Tennessee to be with an ex-boyfriend that, after four years of living together in Cleveland, broke up with. Well, what, four or five years after she bought a house in Tennessee to be near him, the relationship is all but over, and the only reason she won't kick him out is because she doesn't want to be alone. I'm sure that makes for a wonderful family dynamic. Actually, I know it does. I could feel the tension when we visited for Thanksgiving; I can only imagine what it's escalated to. The entire family has a tendency toward the melancholy -- I can't tell you the number of times I've told my husband that I wish he would at least ACT a little excited about whatever. My MIL is the same way. She really only cares if it's about her, and if she were ever excited, you'd never know by the tone of her voice.
Hubby told me a while ago that what helped him was seeing me buckle down and do my homework. The goody-two-shoes student just went, "Nope, I have to do my homework," so the slacker student went, "Well, I guess I should do mine, too." A little bit of setting an example, and a little bit of smacking around.
The law of inertia goes something like, "An object at rest will stay at rest, and an object in motion will stay in motion, unless acted on by an outside force." My husband is often an object at rest, and it takes a lot of outside force to get him to move. But he does get there. I think his younger brother is the same way, but without a strong outside force to help him move. And I think he feels powerless, because he also doesn't know how to provide himself with the outside force to move. It's a rough situation. I feel bad for him. But really, end one's life? That's just selfish, IMHO.
Monday, March 08, 2010
I can't believe I forgot to mention how awesome weight-training is. It always makes me feel soooooooooo good and makes me proud of what my body can do. Sometimes I see a girl on the elliptical and I think, "Wow, she's really skinny," in a good way, and then I see myself in the mirror, thin but with more muscle tone, and I'm picking up weights that are between the 20-30 lb. range, not the little 10 lb. weights, and I'm like, "Nope, that's way sexier." Then, even if the scale isn't the perfect number, I still feel good because the legs squatted that weight or the back did those pullups with almost no assistance or the biceps just curled that weight. I literally feel powerful. And whether or not I'm the hottest girl in the gym, I definitely feel like it when I'm done. That is priceless.
Monday, March 08, 2010
I couldn't resist borrowing PrimalShepherd's description for one of, you know, those days. For me, that was yesterday. At this point, I figure that yesterday being the only real F-off day in the last two weeks is a real achievement.
Saturday didn't feel much like a Saturday to me because hubby spent the entire day scoreboarding high school girls softball games. I appreciate the extra money (when we finally get it), but wow, amazing how a Saturday without your mate on the couch doesn't feel like Saturday! So we decided to go out to this restaurant a bit down the street from us, a Mexican place that hubby won a free dinner at in a random drawing. I ate a moderate amount of chips and salsa, had a big salad with fajita chicken, avocado, cheese, and veggies and went extremely moderate on the dressing (veggies taste perfectly delicious raw and undressed, in my opinion, although I didn't think that before going primal), and finished it off with splitting a fried ice cream with hubby. I mean, why not? The flan would have been marginally better for me, but the fried ice cream was what I wanted. End of story. Came home and had two light beers and called it a night. All-in-all, the damage wasn't bad at all.
Yesterday started off well enough, with a good breakfast of eggs and a sausage. I was in a "dessert-y" mood, so I had a bowl of berries and coconut cream and then indulged in two Girl Scout cookies. I played some video games, then practiced clarinet a bit. Then I went and played some more games, but I felt the munchies coming on. So I ate a Larabar. Then I ate some trail mix. Then I ate way more dried fruit than should be humanly possible. Oh, then it went downhill. A pint of ice cream, half a sleeve of saltines, and two beers later, my tummy was finally waving the white flag. And, well, with all that dried fruit, you can imagine how happy my intestines were later that evening.
And yes, I dutifully tracked all of it.
But all-in-all, the damage wasn't severe at all. Actually, funny how I predicted, but as soon as I bumped up the calories significantly -- two days of 1700 calories -- the weight sure did come right off, so I am still two or three pounds down from my last official weigh-in. It could have been four, but I'm not worried.
So today, I did my normal hard workout, but for the rest of the day I'm fasting. It is now about quarter after 3 and so far, so good. Dinner tonight will be chili with spaghetti squash leftovers. Hubby made some for his dinner last night, and I'll admit, just smelling it made me completely regret my binge. That homemade chili smelled 5000000000000000000000000 times better than anything I ate that day. No joke. But oh well. Two stpes forward and apparently one back this weekend.
This week I turn 27. I can't decide if I feel old or not. I think I feel restless and a bit nest-y. I do NOT want children right now, but I'd at least like to be on the path to starting a career, getting a home, building a veggie garden, that kind of stuff. I want to paint walls, replace nasty appliances with good ones, and get my dad to come help rip up carpet and put down nice fake wood floors. I dream in HGTV. I know it's never as pretty as they show, but until I experience that for myself, in my mind it only takes 30 minutes of elbow grease to turn a nasty kitchen into something fabulous. Oh well.
Thursday is the "big day" for me, and hubby has something special planned. I don't know what, but it involves a lot of food from foodnetwork.com and he's really pleased that most of it is paleo or primal. He only says "most" because he doesn't know enough about the inner workings of the diet to say "all," like where does cocoa powder fall? I figure I don't care, it's my birthday, I will indulge in whatever he treats me to. Paleo just makes it special because it shows that he cares.
Next week is spring break. Where did my semester go? Right now I feel a little like a hamster on a wheel. I've been working on my recital music for a while now and it's really come a long enough way that I'm not entirely inspired to practice it anymore and there are no auditions coming up. So here I am, sitting and waiting. Sometimes it feels like I do a lot of that. Like I'm waiting to start living. I guess, how do I start living now? In my current situation? And yes, thoughts and suggestions are appreciated.
Friday, March 05, 2010
After what seemed like forever, 35 degrees and raining has finally turned into 60 degrees and sunny. Woo-hoo!
I was hoping to ride my bike with the hubby this weekend, but instead he is going to be gone all tonight and all day tomorrow scoreboarding for the high school softball team. Hey, it'll pay good money. And then we won't have to pay off that new TV anymore!
So why does Paleo/Primal rock? Because it's delicious! Hubby and I saw a recipe on Giada at Home that he thought sounded tasty. It was basically sauteed eggplant, pesto, and pasta. Well, I don't do pasta, so here's what I did instead. Sauteed eggplant and pesto as a side dish to oregano baked chicken. Wow, it was fabulous! Yeah, it was primal instead of Paleo (because of the cheese and probably also because of the olive oil) but it was so delicious my mouth was doing somersaults.
And on Wednesday, I found lamb chops on managers special, so I made some homemade mint pesto (mint and almonds instead of basil and pine nuts, and coconut milk instead of cheese) and some grilled lamb (on a grilling pan since we still don't have a grill, stupid thieves), and that was super delicious. And tonight, I'm going to have some leftover curry. Oh yeah, super delicious.
I decided why wait when it came to bumping up my calories. Of course, I almost rejoiced this morning when the scale said I suddenly lost 2-3 lbs., but then I got to the gym and found out I'd only really lost about half a pound. Still, that's another half a pound. And I'm feeling really good about myself. The sunshine does help, though.
I can't remember if I mentioned that I had another lesson with my DSO teacher on Wednesday. It went very well, especially given my lack of preparation -- my tone was generally pretty good, although it still needs work, and my rhythm in the fast movement of Shosty 9 was good, although it was still way too slow. Slow enough that he gave me a lot of brownie points for making it in one breath at my tempo. But at least I could make it and it was rhythmically accurate. So now I have to work on style, because it's not the notes that are the problem. Yay! That's called progress!
Tonight: teaching a lesson, then coming home and enjoying some beef curry and blueberries and coconut milk. I have some Girl Scout cookies sitting in the freezer, and so far this week I've only had two servings. If I feel the need for a serving tonight, I'm allowed, but the beef curry is pretty carb-y with the rutabagas, so I'm going to see if I can wait until tomorrow to have another serving. I'm just proud that I'm FINALLY exhibiting some moderation. Woo-hoo!
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