Monday, June 24, 2013
I live so much of my life online that it's odd for things to be confined too much to the offline world. I am not the kind of person who tweets about every mouthful, every workout, every visit, every heartache, every triumph, ever breaking of wind. But I do find comfort in others online, and intelligence and simpatico that I often do not find locally.
And then when that avenue is shut off, or turns vague, it's difficult. But what can ya do?
So - imagine - a life without Spark - where your struggles are quiet or are closeted. And you wonder if anyone thinks or feels the way you do, and whether anyone understands.
Imagine and then remember that it is here. Things are far better than they were even ten years ago. You don't have to go running off to scheduled Weight Watcher's meetings - unless you want to. You don't need to loudly declare your dieting in order to get someone to take back your toast at the diner and bring it back dry this time because that's how you ordered it. You don't need to be the fat girl at the gym if you don't want to, and can work out at home, or slap on ear buds and go out walking with a thousand other people and nobody bats an eye.
Things are good now, they're better, and I bet they'll only become better as we go.
Can't wait for what the future holds.
Monday, June 17, 2013
It is another massive allergy day, and it might end up being a big-time allergy week.
But I will go out anyway, and walk, and clear my head.
There will be pollen.
Lots and lots of pollen.
I think cardio should count more if you're sneezing. Who's with me?
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
For all of us who have done this, seemingly, forever, I got news for you.
You have to continue. There is no end point, no stopping point. There is no part where you say, "Okay, I'm done! I can go back to lazy days and lazy eating. I can head on over to the Cheesecake Factory every other day and I can stop working out and drinking the water and everything's gonna be GREAT!"
It. Does. Not. Work. Like. That.
Every day, you wake up, you have a chance. And every day, you can decide.
Salad or cake?
Water or soda?
Walk or drive?
Weight training or watch TV?
Herbs or salt?
Homemade or processed?
Measured or estimated?
Home-cooked or dining out?
And we don't always pick the former, and that's actually okay. That's life and it happens and you're allowed to zig instead of zag at times. After all, a fully rigid life is frustrating and boring, and it can smell an awful lot like deprivation. And the more deprived you feel, the more you'll be willing to cheat and then, well, then that's where the real trouble starts.
But those zigs shouldn't overwhelm and overtake and bypss the zags. They should not turn into your life, with the healthy happenings becoming rare.
It needs to be the other way around, where the healthy happenings are the norm, and the mess-ups and the doings of something naughty are rare.
Wouldn't it be interesting, if we turned it all on its head?
What would happen if we couldn't wait to stop doing those naughty things?
Sheesh, another dinner out? I can't wait to get back to my home cooking!
More salt? I can't wait to get back to cilantro!
Soda again? Cripes, I can't wait to get back to drinking water!
TV? Yawn. I really want to get back to weight training!
We talk about making good choices and creating good habits. Let's not sabotage that with thoughts that there is an end point, and a finish line, other than the absolute end of our days.
This is for good.
This is for life.
This is for a good life.
Tuesday, June 04, 2013
Oops, I'm a day late with the blog. Ah, well. In repentance, I offer you Natalie Merchant, and a song that isn't played enough.
So - what's new in the world o' jes? Little versus last week. Life was very weather-driven, as it suddenly got hot and so outdoor activities were curtailed and modified. And I was reminded, once again, of how things have changed. It used to be that a couple of 90 degree days would wipe me out so thoroughly that all I could do was nap. I would move from kitchen to bathroom to bedroom (and the only one of those three rooms with air conditioning was the bedroom), like a zombie. Even with air conditioning in the computer room, I would inevitably find myself heavy-lidded and zonked out by 2.
And as for any sort of exercise, well, I wasn't doing that anyway. The heat was simply yet another excuse.
Things are different now.
I have regained about 80 pounds, no lie. Maintenance is incredibly, unbelievably hard. And lest you think I am near what I was when I started, the truth is, I am not - am still 100 pounds off that. Yeah, I was that huge.
But even with a wicked regain, my life is still transformed. Even hot weather doesn't completely stop everything, and grind life to a completely screeching halt. Even that is not enough to stop me.
Do I want to be lighter again? I would like for things to be easier - I won't deny that. But I am happy to be active, and to be doing more than I had been.
Don't let anyone tell you that maintenance is a picnic. It is anything but that.
I want to face it, and its challenges, clear-eyed and without fear, and to continue to do so. No matter where it takes me. Speak to me, and tell me of your tales of it, too, and we will face it clear-eyed.
Monday, May 27, 2013
I have run a bunch of 5K races, but this one was for just one mile.
And it was more important than all of them, combined, for it was the final mile of the Boston Marathon.
My husband and I walked and jogged and did not go too fast as his back was bothering him.
But that's okay. This was not for speed. It was not for PRs. It was not for personal glory.
We participated for those who no longer have legs, and for those whose futures are gone. We did this for the scared, to show that we aren't. We did it for our city, and for our country, and for anyone who's tired of the violence and hate in the world.
I have already told the sponsors that I hope they will do this again, for it was an amazing experience. There is a turn, just before Boylston Street, near the Hynes Convention Center. You have just gone up a small hill. And you turn. And you see them. And you hear them.
They line the blocks, and they are LOUD. And they are watching, and they are cheering. There were signs. There were high fives from strangers. And the press was there, for people who had been hurt 40 days before, or who had been running and wanted to finally finish. We are not marathoners. We were not that part of the news story.
We were there to be a part of it. And it was one day when this 50 year old who will never run a marathon (trust me, I am FAR too slow) could feel like a rock star.
That day will live on. It was our 21st wedding anniversary, by the way. And that is how we spent it.
And that day will live on.
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