Monday, September 13, 2010
The reason for the song is because I was recently in a car accident.
Oh, don't worry, It was nothing, a minor fender bender. Extraordinarily, I've now been rear-ended, I kid you not, ten times. In three different states. Heh, I must have a sign in the back of my car or something.
And, my ticker is all messed up. I *SO* did not lose seven pounds this week. The numbers are all over the place because the scale needs to be replaced. It's been faithful to me (despite my kicking it on more than one occasion) for over 2 1/2 years, so it's about to go to that great measurement paradise in the sky. The new scale will arrive in a few days, and I strongly suspect that my numbers are a good 20 pounds heavier than the ticker says -- this is because of how slow I've been running 5Ks and how my measurements are looking and my clothes are fitting.
My work life is semi-messed up in that I am beginning to really need more structure. Working for a startup is all well and good, and I enjoy the freedom but, at the same time, I also would love to get some plans nailed down, If you don't count this work, then I am rapidly approaching a year since I worked at the publishing company. This is a long time. I don't love long-term unemployment and, sad to say, I have already experienced it twice in my life. This is, essentially, time #3. With a startup, there is always the promise that somehow, someday, it will be funded and wonderful and off we'll go and our lives will change and all.
But ... that doesn't always happen and, in a continuingly poor economy, the likelihood is not as good. If nothing else, I need a day job, I am still waiting to hear about the most recent interviews so I am not totally out of the running but it is just so much more limbo and lemme tell ya, I really and truly despise limbo.
So. My car is disordered. My weight is disordered. My job is disordered. We are going on vacation in a few days and, while I love that idea, I know that the eating is going to be disordered. And that won't happen until we've gone through the Mass Innovation company appearance this Wednesday, which I am excited about, and want to go well, but I am tired of the ramp-up and kinda just want it done already.
Life is disordered.
But then again, it has always been so.
Have you ever had a perfect week, where everything went wonderfully? The dog didn't knock your sandwich off the table? The kids did their homework on time? Your spouse came home early, with flowers or a nutritious dinner so you wouldn't have to cook? Your boss gave you a raise (or, hell, while we're at it, a promotion)? Your car ran like a top? Your lawn was gorgeous? Your in-laws gave you the perfect gift? Your parents had a beautiful sharing day with you as you all gloried about the past? The world was living in peace and harmony? The lottery numbers came up for you? Yadda yadda yadda?
So, what do we do, when the dishes overflow the sink, the cat misses her box, the kids don't pick up their clothes despite you telling them for the umpteenth time, the news is depressing, the weather stinks, your favorites sports team loses, the toilet backs up and someone mentions termites and they're talking about your house?
Eating caused none of those things and it does no good for getting rid of them anyway. It doesn't prevent the wreckage and it doesn't clean it up. It hides it. It pushes the cracked bumper, the brown lawn, the child with the F on her report card and the yelling boss into the background, but only temporarily. And when they return, those things are worse. They're dirtier, louder, smellier, more insistent.
Denial is oh, so easy. So many of us have lived in that mansion for so long. But it's not a mansion. It's a car wreck. It's broken glass and shattered plastic and dented metal. Sitting there and eating is not going to get you out. You need to unlock the door and lift the handle.
Get out of denial. Stop pacifying your problems with food. You are far, far stronger than you think. Go out and meet your problems head on. And I bet you'll find that, much of the time, they're not as big as you though they were.
Sunday, September 05, 2010
This video log is the sequel to "Now playing in right field": www.sparkpeople.com/mypage_public_jo
Yeah, so I've slipped up. But you know what? I'm fixing it, and that's all that matters. Go Red Sox!
Thursday, September 02, 2010
This is the third birthday I have spent here on Spark. So here are three songs that have something to do with three -- trios, three in the name of the group, etc. Enjoy.
Yeah, I know the third one is really weird. But have you ever tried to grab a song from the Internet about the number three that wasn't by Britney Spears?
Anyway, I'm turning 48 today. 48 is the new 33 1/3 or so.
I'm still sick, so I don't feel as kick-bun awesome as I'd like. And, with Hurricane Earl arriving, er, tomorrow, we are going to just order in enough food to go for a couple of days. Probably Vietnamese, with some seriously hot soup, as Mr. J has the cold as well. But we are going to a Red Sox game in a few days so the real celebration will be in a few days.
But, hey, it's my birthday today! So it's time for a somewhat more low-key party than usual, but a party just the same.
Party on, Spark dudes and dudettes.
Monday, August 30, 2010
Now, don't worry, lil Sparkies. No one's been abusing me.
I just find the title lyric amusing. The video, in case you can't get to it, is Alice Cooper's "No More Mr. Nice Guy". And that's what I want to talk about -- not about being down another few pounds or whatever.
Let's talk about being nice. Or, rather, TOO nice.
You know what it's like. You meet someone who agrees with everything you say. EVERYTHING. You get tired of it, it's too much bland affability. And so, if you're anything like me, you pick at that, to see if you can create some disagreement. Black is white you say. Of course, says the other person.
But -- what happens when that all-too agreeable person ISN'T someone else? What if it's you, or if it's been you?
You're up for anything. You "go along to get along". You take whatever's put on your plate and don't complain, even if it's not what you wanted. Your friend says, not today, no walking for me today, and you allow that to color your behavior as well, so you stay at home. There's only one healthy snack left, but you let someone else have it.
Oh, you are the martyr. And you suffer. Oh, how you suffer! But you are secretly hoping that someone will notice your suffering and -- well, what exactly? Reward you with the Medal of Honor and the love of your fellow countrymen? Alleviate it by somehow magically figuring out that something is wrong (even though you never told them there was any problem)? Make the impossible come true, and immediately pop the weight off you because, well, not so much that you worked to get it off, but because you SUFFERED?
I see it every day here. People (and, let's face it, these are mostly women), who reveal that their husbands don't want them losing their curves and losing too much weight. And these are not 110-pound proto-anorexics but rather women who weigh a good 410 pounds. Or their kids bring in candy. Or their mothers-in-law are constantly serving cakes at family occasions.
Well, I am not advocating being rude. Please don't misunderstand me. Rather, I am saying, break out of the passive-aggressive rut. Don't do it to yourself, and don't let others pull it on you. Your husband says he's afraid you'll lose your curves? Just tell him they'll be better sculpted, not gone. It takes a really serious dip in body fat percentage for a woman's curves to truly go away. Your kids are bringing in candy? Tell them it goes in their room and nowhere else. Or, better yet, tell them it's not allowed in the house AT ALL. Your mother-in-law insists on plying you with cake? Tell her that the meal she just served you was so delicious and wonderful that you couldn't possibly eat another bite. That cake looks wonderful but, sorry, no room.
What I am saying is: PUT YOUR FOOT DOWN.
Your health is IMPORTANT.
So quit letting things happen to you.
Quit letting people dictate your life to you.
Quit opening your mouth and accepting whatever they toss your way.
SparkPeople talks about asserting your Food Rights. And that is what this is all about. And you don't just have Food Rights in restaurants (e. g. to be able to ask for dressing on the side without being made out so as to be a pariah) but in the home as well.
You are a person, an autonomous adult.
YOU DO NOT HAVE TO JUST TAKE IT
Get what you need -- without hurting other people, of course -- but make sure that you are taking care of your own health because, at the end of the day, and at the end of your life, you are the one who has to live in your body, not them.
No more Ms. Nice Gal.
Monday, August 23, 2010
Even if you don't like this group, I urge you to watch the video. With the sound off, if you prefer. Check out the details.
Huh? you say.
Well, it's because this is a cover. The song was written, and originally recorded by, Michael Jackson. Alien Ant Farm (the group in the clip) are about as far from MJ as you can get, but they are clearly huge fans. Everything from the chimp to the Elizabeth Taylor tattoo to the surgical mask, it's all about MJ. I love it when something as detailed and as loving as that pops up thoroughly unexpectedly.
But that's not what this post is about.
Rather, this one is about last weekend's 5K.
And, it's about 5Ks in general.
This was the 10th time I'd run a 5K. The time was not spectacular -- it was fifth-worst, almost the same as I was in July and September of last year. Clearly, I have been slacking off.
But -- I shaved 4 minutes off my time from July of this year. And, being fifth-worst is right in the middle for me. 42 - 43 minutes and change is pretty standard -- it takes some effort for me to hit 40 minutes and below (I've only finished at below the 40-minute mark one time so far). And -- just as importantly -- I enjoyed myself.
Oh and I beat thirteen other people: www.coolrunning.com/results/10/ma/Au
That in itself is a rarity. Now, most of those people were walking, but still! I am often last, or second to last, and this was not a very big field. I had every belief that I would be dead last.
But I wasn't, and I wasn't even the last one in the field of eight us women in our -- ahem -- forties.
But enough of yay me. How about some yay YOU?
Are you afraid to run? Are you concerned that you'll be slow, you'll be tired, you'll just look bad? Everyone will pass you, and will think, there goes that fat girl (or guy). No hope for 'em. Might as well give up and go eat Twinkies. What the heck are they thinking?? Kidding themselves, so sad to be so delusional.
That is just NOT what happens.
Now, I cannot vouch for what is in anybody's head, of course. But I can tell you that, unless you're racing against a bunch of eleven-year-olds, no one is going to say anything like that. No one will shunt you to the side and think you're hopeless. No one will laugh.
Instead, here's what happened to me. I ran at the end. Not a jog, but a flat out run. I try very hard to do that at the end of 5Ks, because it makes me feel better, not because I'm going to break any sort of a record or anything. It's the last 20 - 30 seconds or so, and I can see the finish line, so I run.
And, because I am often last, most of the people who are in the race are there. They are drinking their water or Gatorade, or enjoying a banana or some pretzels or whatever the Race Director has provided for the cost of the entry fee.
And -- get this -- they clap.
They freakin' cheer.
Now, I realize that, when I come in, it's time to award the medals or gift certificates or whatever, but they don't seem to be just mindlessly cheering (Hey, we get to leave soon!). No -- they call out encouragement: Go! Go! Go! and Strong Finish! and You Can Do It!
And I tell you, if I could switch places with them, and be there when they came in, I, too, would put down my water for a second and do the same.
This last time, because some people came in after me, I got the chance to do just that. And it feels awesome. Cheering works, and it's wonderful, whether you are doing it or hearing it. It totally rocks.
And, while I beat some people this time around, I may very well be dead last again at my next one (September 6th). If I am, so what? All that means is that I made everyone else a winner. And it means that everyone -- even Olympians -- not in the race came in behind me. So I have plenty to cheer about even if I am a good twenty minutes after the previous person.
YOU can feel this way, too.
YOU can do it.
Go! Go! Go! Strong Finish! You Can Do It!
You really can. Get out there and set aside your excuses and do it. It really is an incredible blast.
Go get 'em, Tiger.
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