I watched today as two lovely young people pledged their love to one another amidst the laughter and tears that accompanied the hopeful sentiments. It wasn't a large wedding nor was it at all formal. It was warm and inviting and very much filled with the kind of emotion that every person wishes for on his or her wedding day...
In September of 1997 I was teaching seventh grade Language Arts at a wonderful middle school. Earlier, in May, I had become a mother with my first child Jake, and so, it was with mixed feelings that I started back to teaching that Fall and, with Jake in the very capable and loving hands of my mother. At the very least, I didn't worry that he wouldn't be taken good care of; the thought never crossed my mind. However, going back, not being able to stay at home with him was, beyond difficult. Every day seemed harder than the one before it because he changed so much that first year as do all babies. The growth in the first year seems tenfold to that of the rest of their lives. So, I thought about Jake and what it would mean to be without him every day for many hours, not including the papers I had to grade and the lessons that needed to be planned. But, as do many unexpected things, gifts if you will, I was to learn an important lesson that year...
Joshua Vaccaro was very quiet that first part of the school year, almost as if he had a secret that he desperately wanted to share and didn't want to share, simultaneously. It is interesting to have a quiet student because until you get to know them, you don't quite understand what creates that silence in them. Is it fear or pain? Is it shyness or timidity? Is it just the awkward stage of adolescence that compounds the shyness? That first day, it was hard to tell. Only the course of the year would tell me what I needed to know about Josh...
Michelle looked so very happy today as she came down the aisle with her parents: beautiful, serene, smiling. She didn't look nervous at all and if she was, she didn't show it. Her dress, her hair, her bridesmaids, the colors; all of it just played into the rightness of the ceremony that was to follow. And Josh, a tinge of nervousness, maybe at being watched, but his eyes and his face lit up as he saw Michelle coming toward him. Lovely...
Having moved to California not soon before school had begun, Josh had much acclimating to do. Tempestuous does not begin to do justice to the middle school years, but added into moving across the country, it does not take a genius to begin to understand some of his silence. But there was something in him that came out very clearly; he was very smart and creative and just, special. As he began to turn in his work, particularly his writing, it was clear that Josh was talented and articulate and trying very hard to figure out his new life.
Jake began to crawl and babble and he took his first steps at my parents' house. He was growing and changing so quickly that it was difficult for me to pay attention sometimes in class. I found my mind wandering and there were days at lunch when I'd feel so sad and lonely and I just, missed him. I was moodier than usual that year as I'm sure the students noticed. I could turn on a dime, going from humor to anger without even realizing that I was doing it. I found myself more in a daze some days, just wishing for the last bell to ring so that I could go home...
The minister read two letters today; one written to Josh by Michelle and one by Michelle to Josh. They were filled with humor and anecdotes and they must mirror the daily life of the couple as they both smiled and chuckled along with the stories that they each had to tell. When Michel, Josh's stepmother got up to read a poem, there was such a level of comfort and joy in the words that she read and in the faces of their family members as she read them. Clearly, the Vaccaros have become a family who cherishes one another and there is no shortage of humor or optimism anywhere within that unit...
As the months of the school year went on, in a very maternal kind of way, I drew closer to Josh. It wasn't until years later that I realized what I was doing, what was happening. I needed to guide him and he needed me to guide him and what began as two people who were in circumstances that made them feel a bit more isolated and needing, turned into a friendship that brought me to the church today to watch him marry Michelle. I looked forward to seeing Josh during the days that year and it helped me to watch him grow and change and build his self confidence; it helped me in a way that filled in the gap that existed from not being with Jake. I met Josh's father on back to school night and I remember liking him immediately and once he'd shared some of their background, it became clear that Pete was not only invested in Josh's success as a student but that he was willing to do whatever he could to help his son be well and happy. And that feeling pervades today; it showed in the camaraderie of the entire family; in the joy that was demonstrated by the joining of two very wonderful and cherished people.
Josh looked so grown up today, so confident and proud, so happy. I like to think that I helped him to get through that seventh grade year, but I probably did little more than create a space in which he felt comfortable and maybe that was enough. But what I've never said or, maybe what I never told him, was that he helped me survive that year; his sweetness and his intelligence helped to lessen my own fears about being away from my son. I was able to have something to look forward to in seeing him every day and in this way, he was invaluable to my peace of mind.
I don't know Michelle really at all, but I have had the opportunity to hear Josh talk about her, to share some of their adventures, to understand how much she means to him and all of that came together today. I couldn't attend the reception, but I was so thankful that I got the chance to be at the ceremony. I am thankful that I was standing at the front of that classroom fourteen years ago when that shy, uncertain young man walked into my life. His perseverance in every aspect of his life is admirable but his optimism and wit and maybe, his stellar soccer skills are what define Josh but,even more than that, they are what will make him a wonderful husband for Michelle.
I forget sometimes how powerful it is to "be in the right place at the right time" and how that sentiment can apply to even the smallest of moments or the narrowest of paths.
Josh and Michelle, I hope that you have a lifetime of wonderful years together, filled with so many moments of joy and laughter that you cannot keep count and, more than anything, I hope that your marriage is exactly what you want it to be. Thank you for including me and for counting me as a part of your lives together. All of my love to you both... Congratulations!
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Why do you run?
It's an interesting question really and some of the possible answers were posted on huge signs that were scattered along the marathon course in Orange County this past weekend. Some of them were posted, but so many were not. And, although I have written about running before, thinking about some of the responses made me feel a need to write down some of the thoughts that I had as we took on another race, another challenge, another day of punishment as it were...
Never having been a runner, I don't really understand the nature of the beast. I mean, I was a soccer player and a softball player and I was on the drill team in high school. The extent of my running was done during soccer season when the coach ran us so hard and so long that several girls vomited during numerous practices, but that is certainly not the kind of running I'm talking about here. This kind of running, distance running is unlike anything that my body and my mind have ever experienced and the root of what makes me keep coming back for more is the very same thing that keeps me wanting to make positive changes in the world; an incessant need to be and to do better.
I suppose that one might argue that the type of running that I do isn't really a "sport" per se. I mean, I am not competing to win or to "place" and it isn't my objective to time qualify for one of the more prestigious races. So, I thought about it, my friends and I have discussed it and after many runs, several races and some time to consider what this all means, I've arrived at a fairly reasonable conclusion, at least for me. The sport comes from the self-competition. I am not running against or for anyone other than myself and the goals that I've set on that particular day. There is no award, no congratulatory party or scene where I burst across the finish line tape and the photographers go wild. None of that and that's the way I like it. I am a competitive person and I do like to "win," but my goal as an athlete, growing up and especially now, is to give it all I have, to the best of MY ability and frankly, that should be enough. And with running, I'm finding that not only is it enough, it has surpassed any expectations that I have ever had of myself, both physically and mentally...
See, this last half marathon, this past Sunday was the first long run that I've done since January and I was worried that my body wasn't really prepared for it. Some people said, "Oh hell, it's only 13 miles, you've run marathons for crying out loud" but there is no semblance of truth in a statement like that because sometimes it is just as hard to run 13 as it is to run 26, sometimes harder because in the end, it is 99% mental exertion and 1% physical. If, at any point, you tell yourself that you are not going to finish, then you're not going to. Simple. But if you tell yourself that you are going to, well, look at your odds then. Unfortunately sometimes your body just cannot will itself out of an injury or an illness and often, it is impossible to finish, even if you have the willpower of a piranha in a sea of synchronized swimmers... sometimes it is just too much to do. The amazing thing and one of the reasons why I've come to love and to need these challenges, these races, is the human capacity to try again that brings us all back out there. Everyone has a story to tell and some of them would break your heart; some of them though, will change your life forever...
At the beach the other day, I was not paying attention and the four year old whipped off his swim trunks and was sprinting down the sand, a good 15 yards ahead of me before I took off after him. While people pointed and laughed, as did Ty and as did I, I watched his legs and his body fleeing my grasp and as his giggling filled the air between us, I was caught up in the freedom of running after him and for just a second, I didn't really want to catch him, I just wanted to keep running. Maybe it is that reckless abandon that drives me to find the zone when I am out there on a course like this past Sunday, listening to music, watching the world fly by, relishing in the strokes of my feet and the vibrations in my legs and body as I propel myself just a little bit closer to that finish line. Maybe it's a desire to test my mind and to squelch those negative thoughts as they happen; to really challenge myself in the moments of doubt and pain and exhaustion. Or really, maybe it's a need to feel a part of some bigger community of people out there, working toward a common finish, but coming from entirely different places. I found myself, at mile 12 during this last race, almost in tears, but this time, it was because I realized how lucky I was to be able to be out on a course, in sunny California with my friends, on a gorgeous Sunday morning, running... it doesn't get much better than that; at least that is how it felt the other day.
So, why do I run? I get that question a lot and my only answer is, the only truth that I've come to know during these past 3 years of runs is not exciting nor is it a revelation, but, it is my truth... I run because I can, because it is a part of who I am, right down to the very core of what drives me. And I will keep running until my body or my heart or my brain tell me to stop and then... well, let's face it, then I'll do something else. But for now, it's all about "One More Mile..." and that is more than enough.
Never having been a runner, I don't really understand the nature of the beast. I mean, I was a soccer player and a softball player and I was on the drill team in high school. The extent of my running was done during soccer season when the coach ran us so hard and so long that several girls vomited during numerous practices, but that is certainly not the kind of running I'm talking about here. This kind of running, distance running is unlike anything that my body and my mind have ever experienced and the root of what makes me keep coming back for more is the very same thing that keeps me wanting to make positive changes in the world; an incessant need to be and to do better.
I suppose that one might argue that the type of running that I do isn't really a "sport" per se. I mean, I am not competing to win or to "place" and it isn't my objective to time qualify for one of the more prestigious races. So, I thought about it, my friends and I have discussed it and after many runs, several races and some time to consider what this all means, I've arrived at a fairly reasonable conclusion, at least for me. The sport comes from the self-competition. I am not running against or for anyone other than myself and the goals that I've set on that particular day. There is no award, no congratulatory party or scene where I burst across the finish line tape and the photographers go wild. None of that and that's the way I like it. I am a competitive person and I do like to "win," but my goal as an athlete, growing up and especially now, is to give it all I have, to the best of MY ability and frankly, that should be enough. And with running, I'm finding that not only is it enough, it has surpassed any expectations that I have ever had of myself, both physically and mentally...
See, this last half marathon, this past Sunday was the first long run that I've done since January and I was worried that my body wasn't really prepared for it. Some people said, "Oh hell, it's only 13 miles, you've run marathons for crying out loud" but there is no semblance of truth in a statement like that because sometimes it is just as hard to run 13 as it is to run 26, sometimes harder because in the end, it is 99% mental exertion and 1% physical. If, at any point, you tell yourself that you are not going to finish, then you're not going to. Simple. But if you tell yourself that you are going to, well, look at your odds then. Unfortunately sometimes your body just cannot will itself out of an injury or an illness and often, it is impossible to finish, even if you have the willpower of a piranha in a sea of synchronized swimmers... sometimes it is just too much to do. The amazing thing and one of the reasons why I've come to love and to need these challenges, these races, is the human capacity to try again that brings us all back out there. Everyone has a story to tell and some of them would break your heart; some of them though, will change your life forever...
At the beach the other day, I was not paying attention and the four year old whipped off his swim trunks and was sprinting down the sand, a good 15 yards ahead of me before I took off after him. While people pointed and laughed, as did Ty and as did I, I watched his legs and his body fleeing my grasp and as his giggling filled the air between us, I was caught up in the freedom of running after him and for just a second, I didn't really want to catch him, I just wanted to keep running. Maybe it is that reckless abandon that drives me to find the zone when I am out there on a course like this past Sunday, listening to music, watching the world fly by, relishing in the strokes of my feet and the vibrations in my legs and body as I propel myself just a little bit closer to that finish line. Maybe it's a desire to test my mind and to squelch those negative thoughts as they happen; to really challenge myself in the moments of doubt and pain and exhaustion. Or really, maybe it's a need to feel a part of some bigger community of people out there, working toward a common finish, but coming from entirely different places. I found myself, at mile 12 during this last race, almost in tears, but this time, it was because I realized how lucky I was to be able to be out on a course, in sunny California with my friends, on a gorgeous Sunday morning, running... it doesn't get much better than that; at least that is how it felt the other day.
So, why do I run? I get that question a lot and my only answer is, the only truth that I've come to know during these past 3 years of runs is not exciting nor is it a revelation, but, it is my truth... I run because I can, because it is a part of who I am, right down to the very core of what drives me. And I will keep running until my body or my heart or my brain tell me to stop and then... well, let's face it, then I'll do something else. But for now, it's all about "One More Mile..." and that is more than enough.
Friday, April 29, 2011
Something about Nothing...
I have not been writing, obviously or, at the very least, I have not been blogging... I have been entertaining the idea of writing a book, but when I sit down to write something, most often it turns out to be nonsensical crap that I can't even read or, my ADD kicks in and I lose interest as quickly as I sat down. And, let's face it, it is so much easier to hit Delete than it is to sit in front of the screen for hours, wishing that the "right" words would come and inevitably, knowing that they won't...
Despite that fact and, just out of sheer coincidence, the 11 year old used the word despite in a sentence the other day and he used it correctly. He's a bright kid so it didn't surprise me, but it was quite a breath of fresh air to hear a child use that kind of vocabulary in the regular description of his every day life. His mother must be an English teacher, ANYWAY so, today I had my teeth cleaned, I went to the doctor AND I went to the aforementioned kid's school to watch him run in a circle, otherwise known as the Jog-A-Thon or, more privately known in my head as "Let's pimp our kids out for money and then make them run in circles so the people writing the checks will feel like they got something out of it." No, really, the kids love the Jog-A-Thon and it is an important fundraiser and all that and, honestly, it has been fun to watch and especially this year, because for Nick's class, all of those kids that I've seen since Kindergarten are now moving on to the dreaded middle school years and it is nice to be able to see them as they enter their "adolescent" phase of life. I thought middle school was, well, frankly, a pit, half filled with shit and half filled with flowers, depended on the day and which jeans I was wearing, but, I digress...
So, it was a busy day today, but busy in a way that makes me feel like I'm forcing the busyness. It's not the kind of productive busy that I used to experience when I worked full time. Instead, it's more of a run around like a chicken with my head cut off kind of busy; no direction, no aim, no real purpose and bumping into all kinds of things that shouldn't be in my way in the first place. (Sigh) This rant is clearly going nowhere but it is serving its psychological purpose for me so I suppose in a small way, that it is purposeFUL. Maybe this entry in blogworld will triumphantly announce my ability to write something that doesn't resemble a really bad romance novel. Those books still sell like "hotcakes" to use an outdated expression. Formulaic beyond belief, but easy to read and hey, isn't everyone looking for someone to "slowly peel off the silken shoulders of her tulle encrusted gown." Whatever, Vonnegut it ain't but it also serves its purpose...
Tomorrow is the Festival of Books that the LA times hosts every year and although I have gone in the past, I cannot go this year. I am hoping that some of my students will go and that several thousand others because it is a wonderful and necessary opportunity to revisit the antiquated notion of reading. I say that only because of the depressing notion that not only are less people reading for pleasure these days, but they aren't even reading books anymore; they are reading off of their computers and their phones. A student told me that he'd downloaded a book onto his phone. Sounds very convenient I realize, but how small is that print? And what happens when you want to quickly flip back to the page or two before the one that you are currently on so that you can grab some detail that you may have overlooked. And I don't want to hear how you can scroll down or up or some bullshit like that. I will probably get a Kindle and I will probably love the convenience of it, but I want to hold the book and smell it and feel its weight, its story in my hands. I don't want to scroll down. I want to make notes in the margins and fold the page over to hold my place; I want to use goofy bookmarks when I remember and I want to touch the lines of print as my eyes move across them. I want to reread passages over and over without ever leaving that page and there is still a huge part of me that cannot accept that the replicants that masquerade as books on that Kindle or on the Nook are truly, by definition, books. It's like the Stepford wives of the world of literature. Hell, I don't want my books served perfectly with no mistakes and cheaper just because they appear on a screen. No, I want imperfections and flaws; I feel cheated if I read a book and I don't find grammatical errors. I want to stop and flip to the back cover and stare at the photo of the author and I want to the read the critic's comments right in the middle of the best part of the story. I want to have the option is my point. I want to maintain the option. And I hope to God that option is never taken away. It was hard enough to let go of letter writing, now I have to contemplate the possibility that there many no longer be print newspapers or, one day, books on paper any longer? I'm not sure if I can be a part of that world. Maybe it's time to start hoarding because this whole scenario is looking very Orwellian to me at the moment or very Farenheit 451. Oh, and Ray Bradbury has usually been at the Festival of Books every year, his health permitting. He is so fantastic. I gush, but he is one of the greatest American writers of all time and if I had the tip of a fingernail of his talent, I would want all of my work PRINTED on paper and, if need be, after, on a Kindle...
There is much more to say, but I am sleepy and it is going to be a full weekend. The crazy ass redhead is taking us on our first of three jaunts back into the running world... and as I attempt to remount that horse, let me just say, the idea of a world without books is just as horrifying to me as a world filled with illiterates, either by choice or by circumstance. Reading is freedom... Use it with care and use it wisely. I will attempt to either be more provocative or more pensive the next time around. Until then... do something productive will you? And no, playing Angry Birds does not count as productive... Night.
Despite that fact and, just out of sheer coincidence, the 11 year old used the word despite in a sentence the other day and he used it correctly. He's a bright kid so it didn't surprise me, but it was quite a breath of fresh air to hear a child use that kind of vocabulary in the regular description of his every day life. His mother must be an English teacher, ANYWAY so, today I had my teeth cleaned, I went to the doctor AND I went to the aforementioned kid's school to watch him run in a circle, otherwise known as the Jog-A-Thon or, more privately known in my head as "Let's pimp our kids out for money and then make them run in circles so the people writing the checks will feel like they got something out of it." No, really, the kids love the Jog-A-Thon and it is an important fundraiser and all that and, honestly, it has been fun to watch and especially this year, because for Nick's class, all of those kids that I've seen since Kindergarten are now moving on to the dreaded middle school years and it is nice to be able to see them as they enter their "adolescent" phase of life. I thought middle school was, well, frankly, a pit, half filled with shit and half filled with flowers, depended on the day and which jeans I was wearing, but, I digress...
So, it was a busy day today, but busy in a way that makes me feel like I'm forcing the busyness. It's not the kind of productive busy that I used to experience when I worked full time. Instead, it's more of a run around like a chicken with my head cut off kind of busy; no direction, no aim, no real purpose and bumping into all kinds of things that shouldn't be in my way in the first place. (Sigh) This rant is clearly going nowhere but it is serving its psychological purpose for me so I suppose in a small way, that it is purposeFUL. Maybe this entry in blogworld will triumphantly announce my ability to write something that doesn't resemble a really bad romance novel. Those books still sell like "hotcakes" to use an outdated expression. Formulaic beyond belief, but easy to read and hey, isn't everyone looking for someone to "slowly peel off the silken shoulders of her tulle encrusted gown." Whatever, Vonnegut it ain't but it also serves its purpose...
Tomorrow is the Festival of Books that the LA times hosts every year and although I have gone in the past, I cannot go this year. I am hoping that some of my students will go and that several thousand others because it is a wonderful and necessary opportunity to revisit the antiquated notion of reading. I say that only because of the depressing notion that not only are less people reading for pleasure these days, but they aren't even reading books anymore; they are reading off of their computers and their phones. A student told me that he'd downloaded a book onto his phone. Sounds very convenient I realize, but how small is that print? And what happens when you want to quickly flip back to the page or two before the one that you are currently on so that you can grab some detail that you may have overlooked. And I don't want to hear how you can scroll down or up or some bullshit like that. I will probably get a Kindle and I will probably love the convenience of it, but I want to hold the book and smell it and feel its weight, its story in my hands. I don't want to scroll down. I want to make notes in the margins and fold the page over to hold my place; I want to use goofy bookmarks when I remember and I want to touch the lines of print as my eyes move across them. I want to reread passages over and over without ever leaving that page and there is still a huge part of me that cannot accept that the replicants that masquerade as books on that Kindle or on the Nook are truly, by definition, books. It's like the Stepford wives of the world of literature. Hell, I don't want my books served perfectly with no mistakes and cheaper just because they appear on a screen. No, I want imperfections and flaws; I feel cheated if I read a book and I don't find grammatical errors. I want to stop and flip to the back cover and stare at the photo of the author and I want to the read the critic's comments right in the middle of the best part of the story. I want to have the option is my point. I want to maintain the option. And I hope to God that option is never taken away. It was hard enough to let go of letter writing, now I have to contemplate the possibility that there many no longer be print newspapers or, one day, books on paper any longer? I'm not sure if I can be a part of that world. Maybe it's time to start hoarding because this whole scenario is looking very Orwellian to me at the moment or very Farenheit 451. Oh, and Ray Bradbury has usually been at the Festival of Books every year, his health permitting. He is so fantastic. I gush, but he is one of the greatest American writers of all time and if I had the tip of a fingernail of his talent, I would want all of my work PRINTED on paper and, if need be, after, on a Kindle...
There is much more to say, but I am sleepy and it is going to be a full weekend. The crazy ass redhead is taking us on our first of three jaunts back into the running world... and as I attempt to remount that horse, let me just say, the idea of a world without books is just as horrifying to me as a world filled with illiterates, either by choice or by circumstance. Reading is freedom... Use it with care and use it wisely. I will attempt to either be more provocative or more pensive the next time around. Until then... do something productive will you? And no, playing Angry Birds does not count as productive... Night.
Thursday, April 14, 2011
A Question...
Can men and women really be friends? Maybe there's more to that question than just that, I mean, I guess what I'm really asking, is can you be friends with a member of the opposite sex or, really, the same sex (it is 2011 and the definition of sexuality is blurring or at least so I'm told) without wanting to (old school), take it to the next level? Obviously, this is not my question; it's an age old question, but it's one worth pondering, at least on this side of the pond. See, I have many "guy" friends, always did and I mainly attribute that to the fact that I grew up with 2 brothers and not just any 2 brothers, but with MY brothers. There were always guys around and because I played sports, there were always guys around and because I worked in restaurants, there were always guys around. It's only natural to want to develop "relationships" with the people in your daily life, regardless of your gender or theirs. But, one wonders, when you become "friends" does that mean that everything else is off the table? Or, are you off the table because you are just friends? Then again, everyone swears that in order to have a lasting relationship, like a marriage, you have to be "friends" with the other person at some point. The heat will wear off, the sex will lessen and the quality might not be there, the bills will pile up, yada, yada, yada and, again so I'm told, the only way to move past that is to have a solid base like the one at Mammoth mountain before they start making the snow... there has to be a foundation before anything else can develop...
Read any women's magazine and you quickly learn that men are attracted to you instantly or they aren't. They want to fuck you or they don't, BUT, there is that indescribable quality or qualities that lead many men to want to date you: sense of humor, incredibly smart, savvy, rich, poised, beautiful in a "unique" way, different... men like different apparently in a friendship but maybe not in the bedroom (not sure I believe that, but there are different definitions of what constitutes different). And really though, I'm not just talking about sex here because you can't stay in bed 24/7 and I KNOW because... I have friends who've tried. Gotcha, you thought I was going to say I've tried, but my modesty forbids me from imparting too many details here. So, friendship between people who might otherwise be, um, how shall we say... horizontal? Or vertical if there's a counter or the aforementioned table. Whatever... I thought there might be a point in there somewhere.
I guess maybe the question really isn't a question as much as it is an observation. I enjoy the company of my male friends because they offer a much more varied perspective on things than my female friends; their point of view is so often in direct opposition to mine that it helps me to understand the other side. And, sometimes you just need someone to laugh at you or to tell you to shut the fuck up. Well, maybe not in exactly those terms, but in terms that involve little to no drama or hurt feelings or times of the month. I mean guys will just tell you, You're being a bitch right now, back off or Yeah, that sounds good and what they really mean is, you're being a bitch or that sounds good. There are no secret encoded messages in the dialogue there. Now I'm generalizing, as always and for those of you who throw up your hands and say, she's only talking about her friends and her life, well, didn't I warn you, in day one, blog one? I don't care what you think and if you don't care what I think then stop reading...
To partially answer my own question, I have male friends who I have never considered "in that way." Oh who am I kidding, who I have no interest in sleeping with, and there are reasons why I haven't considered them and surprisingly, very few have to do with the notion that we are just "friends." I mean, attractive men are attractive men, but, much like the first time you see someone and you feel your palms sweat, you don't necessarily want to develop a "relationship" with that person, at least not until you get to know them. And, romance movies aside, people fall in love or want to be with someone who they love deeply, who they respect and who meets more of their criteria than "buns of steel." I actually heard a guy say that once, enough said...
Men are fantastic and the quality ones just get better with age which is wholly unfair, but true. I remember as an 18 year (yes I can remember back that far smartasses) wanting to go out with guys who were 25, 28, 30, not other 18 year olds. I just wanted to be friends with those guys. But they got their turn; now those 18 year olds are in their prime and I'm, um, well, bullshit, I'm in my prime too, but, alas, married...
So, friendships between men and women, possible? Definitely. Worthwhile? Definitely. Leading to something else? Well...maybe. I crack myself up sometimes.
Read any women's magazine and you quickly learn that men are attracted to you instantly or they aren't. They want to fuck you or they don't, BUT, there is that indescribable quality or qualities that lead many men to want to date you: sense of humor, incredibly smart, savvy, rich, poised, beautiful in a "unique" way, different... men like different apparently in a friendship but maybe not in the bedroom (not sure I believe that, but there are different definitions of what constitutes different). And really though, I'm not just talking about sex here because you can't stay in bed 24/7 and I KNOW because... I have friends who've tried. Gotcha, you thought I was going to say I've tried, but my modesty forbids me from imparting too many details here. So, friendship between people who might otherwise be, um, how shall we say... horizontal? Or vertical if there's a counter or the aforementioned table. Whatever... I thought there might be a point in there somewhere.
I guess maybe the question really isn't a question as much as it is an observation. I enjoy the company of my male friends because they offer a much more varied perspective on things than my female friends; their point of view is so often in direct opposition to mine that it helps me to understand the other side. And, sometimes you just need someone to laugh at you or to tell you to shut the fuck up. Well, maybe not in exactly those terms, but in terms that involve little to no drama or hurt feelings or times of the month. I mean guys will just tell you, You're being a bitch right now, back off or Yeah, that sounds good and what they really mean is, you're being a bitch or that sounds good. There are no secret encoded messages in the dialogue there. Now I'm generalizing, as always and for those of you who throw up your hands and say, she's only talking about her friends and her life, well, didn't I warn you, in day one, blog one? I don't care what you think and if you don't care what I think then stop reading...
To partially answer my own question, I have male friends who I have never considered "in that way." Oh who am I kidding, who I have no interest in sleeping with, and there are reasons why I haven't considered them and surprisingly, very few have to do with the notion that we are just "friends." I mean, attractive men are attractive men, but, much like the first time you see someone and you feel your palms sweat, you don't necessarily want to develop a "relationship" with that person, at least not until you get to know them. And, romance movies aside, people fall in love or want to be with someone who they love deeply, who they respect and who meets more of their criteria than "buns of steel." I actually heard a guy say that once, enough said...
Men are fantastic and the quality ones just get better with age which is wholly unfair, but true. I remember as an 18 year (yes I can remember back that far smartasses) wanting to go out with guys who were 25, 28, 30, not other 18 year olds. I just wanted to be friends with those guys. But they got their turn; now those 18 year olds are in their prime and I'm, um, well, bullshit, I'm in my prime too, but, alas, married...
So, friendships between men and women, possible? Definitely. Worthwhile? Definitely. Leading to something else? Well...maybe. I crack myself up sometimes.
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Human Nature, otherwise known as "The Mall..."
So Ty and I are walking by Mrs. Fields cookies today in the mall and, since I have given up ice cream for Lent (grrr, two more weeks to go), I asked him, "Want a cookie?" This is typical mom behavior because it justifies my purchase of one regardless of what he says, even if he says nothing, which, in this case, he does. So I peruse the glass case, reading the signs with the various types of cookies... and Bingo! I see silver dollar size White Chocolate Macadamia Nut Cookies and since I now have some semblance of willpower (it has taken years), I ask the girl behind the counter "May I please have two of the White Chocolate Macadamia Nut?" and she looks me at quickly and points to the sign above the case which indicates the prices and which I had overlooked in my sugar avarice and lust... "Well, this is the price for half a dozen or a dozen; if you don't buy 6, then they are going to cost you 60 cents apiece."
Now, for argument's sake and for the mere notion that I didn't have anything against this girl, Mrs. Fields or her cookies, I understand why she told me this; that by purchasing 6 cookies, I was actually SAVING money per cookie. Yes, let this sink in for a minute before you come to the instantaneous conclusion that I did; to save more, you must first spend more, whether you want the product or not. In order to lower the individual price per cookie, I had to buy in COSTCO quantity. Well, maybe not THAT much, but, put simply, if I wanted 6 fucking cookies, I would have asked for them... but I digress a tiny bit and add that she was pleasant enough so I am sure that my tone of voice took over and persuaded her to do what she did without me ever having to say it out loud...
After she told me about my potential cookie savings, I extended two one dollar bills and said forthrightly and maybe with just a tad of irritation, "I don't want to eat 6cookies, I just want two." She instantly retreated saying, "Oh, that's okay, just a dollar then" and I smiled to soften my harshness and said, "No, no, I don't mind paying for them, I just don't want 6 of them." She smiled back, maybe a bit more genuinely and insisted on giving me the 10 cent per cookie discount. I thanked her, took my silver dollars and off we went. I had nothing against that girl or the policy or the business empire known as Mrs. Fields, but as we walked and I thought about it, I realized, this is a HUGE problem and it is making us even bigger, literally...
Now that I think about it, everywhere that I've been where food is involved has this kind of "bulk" mentality; we'll stuff you full if you just pay a tiny bit more, thus saving yourself money but not really considering what it's doing to your health or your well being?!? If that girl had given me the 6 cookies for free I would have eaten them and I know that. That's why I didn't get them. When I order coffee or a sandwich or two eggs at a restaurant, it's because THAT'S WHAT I WANT!!!! I don't want the extra large for five cents more or a double cheeseburger because it's on the dollar menu and no, I most certainly do not want to add another ball of cholesterol on my plate for a mere 35 cents thank you very much. Anything that has the word, Large or Extra Large or Super Size on it is a NO in my vocabulary. Continuing on with this particular... whatever the hell this is, I took Ty to the movies to see Born to Be Wild which was fantastic; only an hour, it is a documentary about two extraordinary women in Kenya and Borneo, respectively and their breakthrough work with elephant and orangutan infants, respectively... we loved it. I had failed to bring water and Ty wanted lemonade so I stood in line and watched as buckets masquerading as cups were filled with soda. I thought about all of the livers that were going to be hurting to process the sugar and calories an hour from then and I thought about how many people were going to come back for their "free refill" because the 120 ounces of coke wasn't enough to satisfy their thirst. That was enough to sicken me. So I get up there and I order a small lemonade and a 4 dollar water and since Ty is screaming for popcorn, I order a small bag of that too. Now the popcorn is normal sized, that I get, but when the kid put down the "small" cup of lemonade, I was like, hey wait, that can't be a small; it was about 32 ounces and he said, "That's small." So I asked for the kid's cup and he told me that you could only get the kid's cup with the kid's pack and I took a deep breath so that I wouldn't leap across the counter and strangle the messenger, I simply said, fine, I'll pay for the small, but only fill it halfway. The kid looked at me like I was out of my mind. But hey, if it's there, Ty will try to drink it; lemonade is liquid sugar water so, I took my half filled cup and my kid and we went off...
This is not going to turn into a diatribe about obesity in this country or excessive behavior by any means, I just found it rather disturbing that meals and snacks and food items, most of which are now listed with calorie content, just continue to grow and expand which, in all honesty is just a mere reflection of our waistlines. And I say this because weight and health and everything associated with it is something that my entire family struggles with and it is hard enough without all of the extra enticements thrown around. I'm thinking that to stay thin and healthy in this country, you really have to be one of two things: very rich so that you can afford the best food, trainers, gyms, masseurs and whatever else you need or very poor so that you can only afford the necessities thereby not allowing you to overeat, ever. The middle class is just like that spare tire that most of us carry around our waist; in excess and unnecessary eating, gaining and overdoing it. It saddened me and made me think about the general state of well being of most people in this country and around the world.
In addition to those thoughts, came some serious mall watching as Ty and I walked through and stopped to shop here and there. I like people in general and because I am a people person, I say hello and smile at people as they walk by, but in the mall, all I can say is, WOW. There were some studies for PhD candidates in Psych today... kids beating each other down while the mother WATCHED, to the point where one kid was hysterical and rolling around on the floor, holding his gut. There was the couple who were fighting mid aisle, screaming obscenities at each other as parents covered their children's ears and tried to keep from laughing at some of the ridiculous things that they were saying. There was the Disney store... do I even need to explain this? And, there was the shoe store, where Ty graciously allowed me to try on a pair of 85 dollar shoes that I loved, but which I could not afford to which the salesgirl questioned, "Aren't you going to buy those?" I smiled and thanked her and declined to which she abruptly turned and went back to soliciting more customers, more paying customers...
We ended our jaunt by waving to the Easter Bunny and then by heading to Barnes and Noble where we passed by the Dr. Seuss table and Ty, who is in the throes of a major Dr. Seuss crush, almost passed out from the mountain of books there. He grabbed about 7 and we proceeded to the nearest corner and began to read. We hadn't been to the bookstore as much lately due to the fact that the books are so expensive. The library has been a much more effective place to indulge our reading habits, but I forgot how appealing the kid's section is and how much I missed just sitting there amidst all of the new books while Ty sat on my lap, sucking on his fingers, listening and laughing along with the words...
When it was time to go, he didn't fuss, he just grabbed his bag, which held his new Buzz Lightyear ray gun, yes, the dreaded Disney store and yes, I'm a pushover and we went outside to wait for Tim, who was picking us up. Ty donned his bunny ears, a present from the Easter Bunny stand and he proceeded to jump up and down, watching his shadow "Hop" in front of him as we stood there. Tim drove up a few minutes later, laughing at his youngest son, enjoying something simple and silly...
All in all, it was an interesting mall experience today and just another mirror of life outside the mall and, in all honesty, I think I rolled through every emotion today, anger being the primary one, but, let's face it, that kind of goes without saying and I ended with laughter, really, always, the best emotion. And maybe just the slightest resentment or regret for not buying those other 4 cookies because they sound REALLY good right about now... nah, I'm sticking to my guns on that one, real or the Buzz Lightyear version.
Now, for argument's sake and for the mere notion that I didn't have anything against this girl, Mrs. Fields or her cookies, I understand why she told me this; that by purchasing 6 cookies, I was actually SAVING money per cookie. Yes, let this sink in for a minute before you come to the instantaneous conclusion that I did; to save more, you must first spend more, whether you want the product or not. In order to lower the individual price per cookie, I had to buy in COSTCO quantity. Well, maybe not THAT much, but, put simply, if I wanted 6 fucking cookies, I would have asked for them... but I digress a tiny bit and add that she was pleasant enough so I am sure that my tone of voice took over and persuaded her to do what she did without me ever having to say it out loud...
After she told me about my potential cookie savings, I extended two one dollar bills and said forthrightly and maybe with just a tad of irritation, "I don't want to eat 6cookies, I just want two." She instantly retreated saying, "Oh, that's okay, just a dollar then" and I smiled to soften my harshness and said, "No, no, I don't mind paying for them, I just don't want 6 of them." She smiled back, maybe a bit more genuinely and insisted on giving me the 10 cent per cookie discount. I thanked her, took my silver dollars and off we went. I had nothing against that girl or the policy or the business empire known as Mrs. Fields, but as we walked and I thought about it, I realized, this is a HUGE problem and it is making us even bigger, literally...
Now that I think about it, everywhere that I've been where food is involved has this kind of "bulk" mentality; we'll stuff you full if you just pay a tiny bit more, thus saving yourself money but not really considering what it's doing to your health or your well being?!? If that girl had given me the 6 cookies for free I would have eaten them and I know that. That's why I didn't get them. When I order coffee or a sandwich or two eggs at a restaurant, it's because THAT'S WHAT I WANT!!!! I don't want the extra large for five cents more or a double cheeseburger because it's on the dollar menu and no, I most certainly do not want to add another ball of cholesterol on my plate for a mere 35 cents thank you very much. Anything that has the word, Large or Extra Large or Super Size on it is a NO in my vocabulary. Continuing on with this particular... whatever the hell this is, I took Ty to the movies to see Born to Be Wild which was fantastic; only an hour, it is a documentary about two extraordinary women in Kenya and Borneo, respectively and their breakthrough work with elephant and orangutan infants, respectively... we loved it. I had failed to bring water and Ty wanted lemonade so I stood in line and watched as buckets masquerading as cups were filled with soda. I thought about all of the livers that were going to be hurting to process the sugar and calories an hour from then and I thought about how many people were going to come back for their "free refill" because the 120 ounces of coke wasn't enough to satisfy their thirst. That was enough to sicken me. So I get up there and I order a small lemonade and a 4 dollar water and since Ty is screaming for popcorn, I order a small bag of that too. Now the popcorn is normal sized, that I get, but when the kid put down the "small" cup of lemonade, I was like, hey wait, that can't be a small; it was about 32 ounces and he said, "That's small." So I asked for the kid's cup and he told me that you could only get the kid's cup with the kid's pack and I took a deep breath so that I wouldn't leap across the counter and strangle the messenger, I simply said, fine, I'll pay for the small, but only fill it halfway. The kid looked at me like I was out of my mind. But hey, if it's there, Ty will try to drink it; lemonade is liquid sugar water so, I took my half filled cup and my kid and we went off...
This is not going to turn into a diatribe about obesity in this country or excessive behavior by any means, I just found it rather disturbing that meals and snacks and food items, most of which are now listed with calorie content, just continue to grow and expand which, in all honesty is just a mere reflection of our waistlines. And I say this because weight and health and everything associated with it is something that my entire family struggles with and it is hard enough without all of the extra enticements thrown around. I'm thinking that to stay thin and healthy in this country, you really have to be one of two things: very rich so that you can afford the best food, trainers, gyms, masseurs and whatever else you need or very poor so that you can only afford the necessities thereby not allowing you to overeat, ever. The middle class is just like that spare tire that most of us carry around our waist; in excess and unnecessary eating, gaining and overdoing it. It saddened me and made me think about the general state of well being of most people in this country and around the world.
In addition to those thoughts, came some serious mall watching as Ty and I walked through and stopped to shop here and there. I like people in general and because I am a people person, I say hello and smile at people as they walk by, but in the mall, all I can say is, WOW. There were some studies for PhD candidates in Psych today... kids beating each other down while the mother WATCHED, to the point where one kid was hysterical and rolling around on the floor, holding his gut. There was the couple who were fighting mid aisle, screaming obscenities at each other as parents covered their children's ears and tried to keep from laughing at some of the ridiculous things that they were saying. There was the Disney store... do I even need to explain this? And, there was the shoe store, where Ty graciously allowed me to try on a pair of 85 dollar shoes that I loved, but which I could not afford to which the salesgirl questioned, "Aren't you going to buy those?" I smiled and thanked her and declined to which she abruptly turned and went back to soliciting more customers, more paying customers...
We ended our jaunt by waving to the Easter Bunny and then by heading to Barnes and Noble where we passed by the Dr. Seuss table and Ty, who is in the throes of a major Dr. Seuss crush, almost passed out from the mountain of books there. He grabbed about 7 and we proceeded to the nearest corner and began to read. We hadn't been to the bookstore as much lately due to the fact that the books are so expensive. The library has been a much more effective place to indulge our reading habits, but I forgot how appealing the kid's section is and how much I missed just sitting there amidst all of the new books while Ty sat on my lap, sucking on his fingers, listening and laughing along with the words...
When it was time to go, he didn't fuss, he just grabbed his bag, which held his new Buzz Lightyear ray gun, yes, the dreaded Disney store and yes, I'm a pushover and we went outside to wait for Tim, who was picking us up. Ty donned his bunny ears, a present from the Easter Bunny stand and he proceeded to jump up and down, watching his shadow "Hop" in front of him as we stood there. Tim drove up a few minutes later, laughing at his youngest son, enjoying something simple and silly...
All in all, it was an interesting mall experience today and just another mirror of life outside the mall and, in all honesty, I think I rolled through every emotion today, anger being the primary one, but, let's face it, that kind of goes without saying and I ended with laughter, really, always, the best emotion. And maybe just the slightest resentment or regret for not buying those other 4 cookies because they sound REALLY good right about now... nah, I'm sticking to my guns on that one, real or the Buzz Lightyear version.
Friday, April 8, 2011
Top Ten Greatest Inventions in my every day life...
10. Clorox disinfectant wipes... I have three boys and three toilets, enough said.
9. Individually packaged ANY type of food, preferably microwaveable...
8. IPOD Shuffle; it's small, it holds all my songs; it's awesome...
7. Antimicrobial Yoga mats: combined with number 10 - a germophobe's heaven...
6. Those little green plastic things from Starbucks that you stick in your coffee lid to keep it from spilling... GENIUS!
5. Bravo TV... I know, I know...
4. Dri-Fit underwear - if you have to ask, then you don't need to know...
3. Reusable grocery bags; the only thing is, I seem to use them for everything BUT groceries...
2. Swiffer, wet and dry...
1. Ice cube trays: used as: Popsicle and jello cube makers, playdoh sorters, change counters, jellybean containers, paint dishes, rolly-polly bug homes, mud pie block makers, individual cages for plastic zoo animals, snack dividers, sand toys, ketchup dippers, weapons, blocks, plastic soap dispensers, cymbals and my all time favorite... ice skates, well, floor skates with the help of some shoelaces. Ingenious...
9. Individually packaged ANY type of food, preferably microwaveable...
8. IPOD Shuffle; it's small, it holds all my songs; it's awesome...
7. Antimicrobial Yoga mats: combined with number 10 - a germophobe's heaven...
6. Those little green plastic things from Starbucks that you stick in your coffee lid to keep it from spilling... GENIUS!
5. Bravo TV... I know, I know...
4. Dri-Fit underwear - if you have to ask, then you don't need to know...
3. Reusable grocery bags; the only thing is, I seem to use them for everything BUT groceries...
2. Swiffer, wet and dry...
1. Ice cube trays: used as: Popsicle and jello cube makers, playdoh sorters, change counters, jellybean containers, paint dishes, rolly-polly bug homes, mud pie block makers, individual cages for plastic zoo animals, snack dividers, sand toys, ketchup dippers, weapons, blocks, plastic soap dispensers, cymbals and my all time favorite... ice skates, well, floor skates with the help of some shoelaces. Ingenious...
Thursday, April 7, 2011
What's your secret?
I've been so appreciative and grateful to the people who have taken a second to say something kind to me this past year. I hadn't realized, over the course of several years, how much I needed to get myself back. I was an athlete growing up; I was strong and healthy and for most of my life I had kept myself in shape. There was a part of me, after having Nick that just allowed myself to put those things, including my appearance and how I felt about myself physically, on the back burner. As a result of that behavior, I realize now, looking back, that is a huge part of why, in my thirties, I felt like I was becoming depressed. I started looking at other things, blaming people, situations and I eventually allowed myself to just accept that this was the way I was now and nothing was going to change that. And then, at 37, I had my third son. Tipping the scales at 218 pounds when I went to have him, I still didn't give much thought to me and my health. He was the priority, as it should have been. Again though, looking back, I now have come to understand that, although not about appearance per se, more about how I feel about myself, makes me not just a better person, friend, teacher, wife, mother, but really, a better human being.
It's been almost three years and fifty pounds which is difficult to type because in my mind, I hadn't let myself go like that. Even looking a photos, I was always someone who focused on the kind of person I was rather than what I looked like. I guess that's maybe the reason why it didn't occur to me that by allowing myself to get back to a regular routine of exercise that I was gaining back something else that I lost; my ability to challenge and push myself.
I'm not a woman who understands the meaning of the word diet. I eat pretty well and I eat things that I like, but shouldn't have, in moderation. I like to drink and I love ice cream. But on this journey, I've also been reminded of how good my body feels when I treat it well and by that I mean, by feeding it well. So even when I don't feel like eating apples or taking my vitamins or drinking my body weight in water, I do it anyway and I'm better for it. I no longer eat red meat either and I have a feeling that soon, I might even become a partial vegan. I don't know if that really exists, part time that is, but I'm leaning toward a meatless existence. And if it doesn't work out, then at least I will have tried to change the way that I see food and the way that food affects me. Other than that, dieting is never going to be the way that I manage my health or my weight. Several people have asked me what I've been doing and although I'm telling it here, now, I will sound a little like one of those exercise gurus when I simply say, you have to do what works for you. For all of my mom friends out there who want to feel a little better though, here's my plan.
I exercise every single day. I don't count minutes, I don't make plans, other than if I'm attending a class or doing something with a friend, but I work out every single day. And now, it's just as important mentally for me as physically because if I miss a day or two, I find myself dipping back into the depression pond. It's the endorphins and the challenge. I like to punish myself when I exercise, to the point where I'm straining and hurting and sweating like a madwoman. Along these lines, running and Bikram yoga are the two key activities that have taken over my life. The third, one that I have to really focus on is weight training. And for those of you who think you don't need to lift weights, lift up your arm right now and wave. If that flap of skin that used to be your tricep is flapping along with you, you need to lift weights and even if it isn't, you need to lift weights. Three times a week: Back and Biceps, Chest and Triceps and the dreaded Leg Day. Pay for a few sessions with a really good trainer (Jerry or Rachel Gamallo) and let them formulate a plan for you and then follow it! Also, if starting to run, sign yourself up for a race, a 5K, a 10K whatever, but I promise you, if you sign up, pay for it and grab a friend, you are more likely to train and then to finish it. Another good starter is to do something for charity like a mini triathlon, a bike event, a yoga retreat, a marathon... you will be reminded of how much good you can do, by just using your body.
And really, it isn't about weight loss by itself, I mean, I'm not at my goal weight and if you asked me, I don't know that I have a goal weight in mind. I mean, I just bought some new clothes and I sleep better, my skin looks better and I am literally reshaping my figure. Especially with Bikram; I feel like a stick of butter in that class and that my posture, my alignment and my skin is redefining itself. Whatever activity I do though, I like to feel completely worked at the end of it. And the amazing thing is, that now, at almost 42 (yikes), I feel as good as I did at 27, right before I got pregnant with Jake, who, incidentally, will turn 14 next month...
I guess it all comes down to having an objective, weight, shape, skin, food, whatever, but giving yourself the time and space to do it and then not kicking yourself when you don't. I was cleaning today and I was making a list of some of the little things that make me laugh and that I count as exercise too:
1. Do squats while you: brush your teeth, blowdry your hair, wash your face, stand in the shower. Yes you look weird, but your butt and your inner thighs will ROCK!
2. Sun salutations or any kind of stretches when you get out of bed in the morning will make some of those cracks and creaks a little less loud.
3. Choose 4 songs on your IPOD, any 4 that make you want to dance, play them and then dance, around the room, nonstop; that's about 12-15 minutes, depending on the length of the songs and go all out. Remember those moves that you used when you were clubbing in your twenties and your hips will remember. Your husband will too...
I like: Pink's Raise Your Glass, Bon Jovi's Living on a Prayer, Nelly's Just a Dream and Taio Cruz's Break Your Heart. Any songs will do, but these 4 just get my heart pumping.
4. Masturbate. Okay, you did read that correctly, but I have to say, whenever I'm feeling like I don't want to exercise, this activity definitely puts me in the right frame of mind and, if you're ambitious, you can get your daily dose of exercise this way OR, leading to the next one,
5. Have really good sex. Now, I have to pause here and say, is there such a thing as bad sex, I mean, there is, but, I'm feeling that if I'm having sex, it's all good so, having said that, if you want to add a little formal exercise (I'm laughing at myself right now as I type this) get on top and use your leg muscles, come on girls, you KNOW where I'm going with this... okay, that one was for fun, but hey, it's exercise too.
6. Mop the floors and clean the windows; not nearly as much fun as 4 or 5 but the house needs to get clean too.
7. Plant or weed in your garden for an hour. Don't stop, just go. Mowing the lawn counts too.
8. There are more to include, I mean, I find myself on the floor doing situps or pushups or playing with Ty, bending and twisting for all kinds of daily activities but overall my point is, you really do have to find something that you look forward to and that you love and that really, loves you back by giving you strength and flexibility and great skin and more energy and a renewed sense of yourself. Whatever that is, that's what you should be doing and if it makes you feel that good, then why wouldn't you want to do it every day?
Enlist a friend, pick a time and then, just go... Three years and I've never been the same nor will I ever look back. Now if you'll excuse me, one of the activities is calling my name... ;)
It's been almost three years and fifty pounds which is difficult to type because in my mind, I hadn't let myself go like that. Even looking a photos, I was always someone who focused on the kind of person I was rather than what I looked like. I guess that's maybe the reason why it didn't occur to me that by allowing myself to get back to a regular routine of exercise that I was gaining back something else that I lost; my ability to challenge and push myself.
I'm not a woman who understands the meaning of the word diet. I eat pretty well and I eat things that I like, but shouldn't have, in moderation. I like to drink and I love ice cream. But on this journey, I've also been reminded of how good my body feels when I treat it well and by that I mean, by feeding it well. So even when I don't feel like eating apples or taking my vitamins or drinking my body weight in water, I do it anyway and I'm better for it. I no longer eat red meat either and I have a feeling that soon, I might even become a partial vegan. I don't know if that really exists, part time that is, but I'm leaning toward a meatless existence. And if it doesn't work out, then at least I will have tried to change the way that I see food and the way that food affects me. Other than that, dieting is never going to be the way that I manage my health or my weight. Several people have asked me what I've been doing and although I'm telling it here, now, I will sound a little like one of those exercise gurus when I simply say, you have to do what works for you. For all of my mom friends out there who want to feel a little better though, here's my plan.
I exercise every single day. I don't count minutes, I don't make plans, other than if I'm attending a class or doing something with a friend, but I work out every single day. And now, it's just as important mentally for me as physically because if I miss a day or two, I find myself dipping back into the depression pond. It's the endorphins and the challenge. I like to punish myself when I exercise, to the point where I'm straining and hurting and sweating like a madwoman. Along these lines, running and Bikram yoga are the two key activities that have taken over my life. The third, one that I have to really focus on is weight training. And for those of you who think you don't need to lift weights, lift up your arm right now and wave. If that flap of skin that used to be your tricep is flapping along with you, you need to lift weights and even if it isn't, you need to lift weights. Three times a week: Back and Biceps, Chest and Triceps and the dreaded Leg Day. Pay for a few sessions with a really good trainer (Jerry or Rachel Gamallo) and let them formulate a plan for you and then follow it! Also, if starting to run, sign yourself up for a race, a 5K, a 10K whatever, but I promise you, if you sign up, pay for it and grab a friend, you are more likely to train and then to finish it. Another good starter is to do something for charity like a mini triathlon, a bike event, a yoga retreat, a marathon... you will be reminded of how much good you can do, by just using your body.
And really, it isn't about weight loss by itself, I mean, I'm not at my goal weight and if you asked me, I don't know that I have a goal weight in mind. I mean, I just bought some new clothes and I sleep better, my skin looks better and I am literally reshaping my figure. Especially with Bikram; I feel like a stick of butter in that class and that my posture, my alignment and my skin is redefining itself. Whatever activity I do though, I like to feel completely worked at the end of it. And the amazing thing is, that now, at almost 42 (yikes), I feel as good as I did at 27, right before I got pregnant with Jake, who, incidentally, will turn 14 next month...
I guess it all comes down to having an objective, weight, shape, skin, food, whatever, but giving yourself the time and space to do it and then not kicking yourself when you don't. I was cleaning today and I was making a list of some of the little things that make me laugh and that I count as exercise too:
1. Do squats while you: brush your teeth, blowdry your hair, wash your face, stand in the shower. Yes you look weird, but your butt and your inner thighs will ROCK!
2. Sun salutations or any kind of stretches when you get out of bed in the morning will make some of those cracks and creaks a little less loud.
3. Choose 4 songs on your IPOD, any 4 that make you want to dance, play them and then dance, around the room, nonstop; that's about 12-15 minutes, depending on the length of the songs and go all out. Remember those moves that you used when you were clubbing in your twenties and your hips will remember. Your husband will too...
I like: Pink's Raise Your Glass, Bon Jovi's Living on a Prayer, Nelly's Just a Dream and Taio Cruz's Break Your Heart. Any songs will do, but these 4 just get my heart pumping.
4. Masturbate. Okay, you did read that correctly, but I have to say, whenever I'm feeling like I don't want to exercise, this activity definitely puts me in the right frame of mind and, if you're ambitious, you can get your daily dose of exercise this way OR, leading to the next one,
5. Have really good sex. Now, I have to pause here and say, is there such a thing as bad sex, I mean, there is, but, I'm feeling that if I'm having sex, it's all good so, having said that, if you want to add a little formal exercise (I'm laughing at myself right now as I type this) get on top and use your leg muscles, come on girls, you KNOW where I'm going with this... okay, that one was for fun, but hey, it's exercise too.
6. Mop the floors and clean the windows; not nearly as much fun as 4 or 5 but the house needs to get clean too.
7. Plant or weed in your garden for an hour. Don't stop, just go. Mowing the lawn counts too.
8. There are more to include, I mean, I find myself on the floor doing situps or pushups or playing with Ty, bending and twisting for all kinds of daily activities but overall my point is, you really do have to find something that you look forward to and that you love and that really, loves you back by giving you strength and flexibility and great skin and more energy and a renewed sense of yourself. Whatever that is, that's what you should be doing and if it makes you feel that good, then why wouldn't you want to do it every day?
Enlist a friend, pick a time and then, just go... Three years and I've never been the same nor will I ever look back. Now if you'll excuse me, one of the activities is calling my name... ;)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)