All posts by dotyness

I'm a mother, a hockey fan, a photographer, a sugar and nicotine addict, a non-smoking smoker, a struggler, a connoisseur of the absurd, a reader, a traveler, a writer, a student of light and shadow, a foodie, a daughter, a sister, a friend, and a crazy cat lady. I talk to myself more than I care to admit and perhaps even more than is healthy. I'm in a time of great change and turmoil so now I'm talking to you as well as to myself.
Exercise, Food, Habits

Soprano Funeral Dirge

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angelAs I told you when I started blogging, my health was the motivation for me to change my lifestyle. I had this moment of clarity at a regular check-up when my blood pressure was high enough that I was not allowed to leave until it came down. At that moment, it really hit me that either I changed my lifestyle or I might not be around to meet my grandchildren. It crystallized for me that this was my do-over and that it might be my last one. That sounds like a little hyperbole, but it’s not as outlandish as it first appears.  I’m in my mid-40s – five years younger than the (as of yesterday) late James Gandolfini.

The actor carried a great deal of fat around his middle, the most dangerous fat distribution.    As we discussed before, abdominal fat is linked to higher rates of cardiovascular disease.  Reports are that Gandolfini died of either a heart attack or a stroke.  Now, I realize that I’m making some assumptions here when I don’t have all of the facts.  I do not have any kind of insider information.  I’m going with the cause of death reported in the media (dangerous to trust anything in the media, I know). And I’m making a connection between that and his appearance.  My conclusion is reasonable.

The man was only 51 years old. How old am I? How old are you? How long before my beloved ice cream gives me a stroke? How long before that heart-attack-in-a-sack goes off in your chest?  Will we survive the wake up call or will it serve to wake someone else?

Why risk it? We have to make the changes we need to make today.  Eat more vegetables. Eat less refined sugar. Eat less flour. Eat cleaner, more natural foods. Increase your activity.  Walk more. Sit less.  Move.

I never had HBO and never watched The Sopranos; but, I’d seen Gandolfini in other projects.  I appreciated his talent and am saddened that he’s dead.  The real weight on my mind right now, though, is the wife he leaves behind and his children – a teen-aged son and an infant daughter who will never know her father.  It is for them that my heart breaks.

Exercise, Habits

Push ‘Em Back, Push ‘Em Back, Swayback!

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swayback-postureBabies are adorable walking around in their little diapers, rear ends poking way out.  Fast forward 20 years and the rear end poking way out like that isn’t so cute anymore.  It’s also not comfortable or healthy, either. I’ve held myself that way for years.

Swayback. Lordosis. Got a big, ole butt.  Whatever you call it, it’s poor posture and it’s bad for your skeleton and for your look!

If my rear end was stuck out, my abdomen was, too (as a counter-weight).  The result was that my already large belly appeared even larger.  My hips and butt also appeared larger, but the connection wasn’t so obvious to me.  Try this: stand up and give yourself a sway back.  Poke your butt out one direction and your abdomen the other.  Feel what happens with your hips?  They roll out.

The ball and socket of the hip joint are not designed to fit snuggly when your back is swayed like that; so, the ball rolls out of the joint a little bit, widening the hips and rear.

Now, tuck your pelvis.  Try to push your rear end through to the front.  Feel what happens, then?  Your hip sockets fit together.

Look five pounds thinner instantly!

If you do those little demonstrations in front a mirror, you can actually watch as your hips flare.  Tuck your pelvis and you can see how much thinner they look.

I’ve been walking and standing sway backed for so long, my hips were seriously out of line.  It has taken conscious effort to tuck my pelvis when standing, walking, running, and even sitting.  When I’m standing where no one will see me and think I’ve dropped off the deep end, I do a very simple exercise tucking my pelvis and tightening all of the muscles, pretending they area belt pulling my hip joints back together.  Particularly right at first, I could almost feel the joints pop back into place.  I don’t feel as much movement now; but, I still do the exercises to keep the muscles strong and as a reminder, as much as anything else.

Strengthening my core muscles helps with this a great deal, as well.  Rather than tucking my pelvis by pushing it forward, those strong abs help pull it forward and hold everything in place.

Since I’ve concentrated on getting rid of this swayed back, my lower back rarely hurts anymore.  By moving the weight bearing back onto my hips and legs where it was always supposed to be, I’ve reduced the strain on the lower back muscles and bones that were functioning as they were never intended.  In addition, my hips feel better.  Again, they are functioning as they are designed to – amazing how that works!

We are all told to hold our shoulders back, stand erect.  No slumping. It is just as important to remind ourselves and our children to keep our pelvises in line.

 

Exercise, Food

Gassing Up

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When I was the interim manager of a travel agency in Starkville, MS, a coworker joked about going over to Columbus to this Mexican restaurant to “gas up.”  The food was really good, but his assessment was right on the money; so, out of respect for each other, we scheduled those trips on Fridays.

My three kickboxing classes have reminded me about gassing up correctly.  For Saturday morning’s class, I remembered to get up in time to prepare the only breakfast that gives me enough energy to make it through that workout – a bowl of old fashioned or steel cut oatmeal with chia seeds, milled flax seeds, cinnamon and a mashed banana.  I’ve tried cold cereal.  Nope. Eggs, bacon and toast. Nope. Pancakes. Nope.  For me, this is the only breakfast that fuels me properly.  It’s my best way to gas up.  I have to eat it at least 60 minutes before class, but no more than 90.  Fewer than 60 may have me nauseated, but more than 90 and I run out of gas before the third mitt drill.  For my son, it’s different.  He needs to eat two hours prior and he needs a meal heavier in protein.

Speaking of protein, I have been hit this week with some pretty strong cravings…..for chicken and eggs. I know, right?  We’ve talked about cravings before and I truly do believe that they are often direct communication from our bodies addressing a specific deficiency.  When I think of food cravings, sugary foods usually come to mind.  My body is usually feeling tired and is demanding something for quick, ready energy; so, it creates visions of chocolate donuts dancing in my head.  Right now, my body doesn’t need the extra energy – it needs those amino acid chains. Right now, my body is telling me that it needs protein.

Working and building muscles – with push-ups, ab sprawls, squats, etc – actually damages them with tiny tears.  Protein repairs that damage, making the muscles stronger than before.    After hours of aerobic and isometric exercises, my aren’t ultimately feeling tired – they’re feeling damaged; so, my body is giving me A Chorus Line with barnyard fowl. (Take a moment and envision Bob Fosse choreographing for chickens. That’s priceless.)

Chicken Barn Dance by Matthew Finger
Chicken Barn Dance by Matthew Finger

Preparing for exercise, exercise itself and feeding your body afterwards are all crucial and, I believe, all very individual.  Walking is less effective for me than for many I know.  Lifting weights is good for everyone – but different weights and in different manners.  My body craves meat. You may be fine as a vegan. It’s all about YOU – your body, your metabolism, your heredity, your lifestyle.  Because it’s so personal, I think it’s important to educate yourself and to consult a professional.

In my profession, I hear it regularly: people have read this book, watched that show or listened to something else.  More than many, I can appreciate the value of self-education; however, I still go see my doctor for annual check-ups, you know what I mean? So, as you change your fuel and activity, talk with a doctor, a nutritionist, or a personal trainer.  When you see your doctor, your healthier stats are reported to your insurance carrier (which can have great effects on your rates, depending on what coverage you have.)  As for nutritionists and personal trainers,  health and fitness are ALL they do.  They’ve read more than you and I have time to.  They are educated on the subject – sometimes for years – and they know their professions.

You can make significant headway on your own, sure; however, this is what these people do. They are too valuable a resource to waste.

Exercise

Higher Degrees

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I’m REALLY late visiting with you today and lemme tell you why …. I’m tired.

Baron Fork

As threatened, I went kickboxing Saturday morning, in spite of the fact that my calves felt tight enough to pop.  After class, they felt better, but my upper body was beginning to tighten up.  Over the course of the rest of the weekend, I mowed my yard using a push-mover, shampooed carpets and spent a day kayaking/floating down the Collins River.  By Sunday, my upper body was in some serious fatigue and discomfort.  The thing is: I am SO EXCITED ABOUT IT!

Every muscle twinge tells me that I broke that tissue down a little during working out.  Lean protein consumption helps my body rebuild that tissue, making it stronger, leaner and more efficient.  I can already tell a difference in how some of my clothes fit which is incredibly thrilling.

The soreness reminds me:

  1. to do only those things that really matter,
  2. that I am alive, and
  3. that I am getting stronger.

Class is at 8 tonight.  I still will not be able to do many push-ups or ab sprawls; but, I can guarantee you that I will be able to do more of them tonight than I could on Saturday.  Progress, baby!

Exercise

It’s a Question of Degrees

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ow, Ow, oW, OW! OWW!!!

I am actually as sore as I had predicted. Muscles I had forgotten about are SCREAMING at me today. My calves are so tight that I question every step. “Okay, so I have to use the restroom; but, do I have to use it badly enough?”

The only one who can tell you, "You can't" is you...and you don't have to listen.Instead of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs, today we have Her Dotyness’s hierarchy of whines. It’s all about degrees of need or desire for me today.  Am I hungry enough to brave the walk to the kitchen? Just how badly do I want that next cup of coffee? While my internal conversation is pretty comical today, I think that the question of degrees applies more frequently than just when my calves are sore.  I say I want something, but how badly do I really want it?

I’ve been lamenting my poor choices and execution.  If say I want to lose these pounds, then I have to prove it.  I have to want it badly enough to make better choices and to keep my exercise appointments.  If I don’t do those things, then I must not want that weight loss badly enough.

This week, my choices have been better – I had the fruit cup instead of the muffin, the grande latte instead of the venti.  I started kickboxing again. My head trash level is lower. I feel like my clothes fit a little better.  Maybe they do, maybe I just think they do.  If perception is reality in terms of customer service, then I say it should be reality in terms of self conversation, as well. Whatever the case, it’s a positive week loaded with positive energy and progress.

So, even now, as I categorize the threat level of my bladder alarm, I know that come tomorrow morning, calves screaming or not, I will be in class, sweating, talking myself through just one more push up. Because, in terms of degrees, I want it badly enough.

Exercise

Kicking My Fanny Into Gear…Literally

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I’m actually typing this blog with my nose. It is the only part of my body I can control to any degree right now. It is Wednesday night and I am writing my Thursday blog now because I’m fairly certain I won’t be able to do it tomorrow.

For the first time in about 10.5 months, I attended a kickboxing class tonight.  Before my knee surgery, I attended class with Karin’s Kicking Fitness three times a week.  I. LOVED. IT.  The class is hard, hard work if you really get into it.  You can take it easy on yourself if you like and hardly break a sweat, but I don’t.  I work hard and smell like a goat when I leave.  Here’s the thing: if I’m going to take it easy on myself, I’m going to be on the couch and some beer drinking and hockey watching are going to be involved. If I’m going to pay to attend an exercise class, then, by golly, I’m exercising.

left hand and heavy bagMy first class was on Valentine’s Day 2012.  I attended three times a week until late July when I hurt my knee (not in class, by the way).  During those six months, I missed no more than three classes and became a beast!  I was in the best shape of my life, hands down. My core was strong.  I could do push ups on my toes and first two knuckles. Squats, lunges, planks, mountain climbers, boot strappers, burpies – bring ’em on!  While the classes got easier, they were never easy.  Again, I. LOVED. IT.  And I have missed it terribly.

Fast forward now through those lazy 10.5 months of The Great Regain and we get to tonight. I was so excited to be able to go to class.  I had my knee in a brace and, because Karin is a physical therapist assistant who had worked with me during recovery, I was confident that she would watch me to make certain that I didn’t do anything to hurt myself. My confidence was well placed.  She watched me and suggested some adjustments that would give me a good workout, but that would protect that knee.  The workout was hard – harder than I remember.  There were a couple of times when I was afraid I might have to excuse myself to go “call some dinosaurs.”  I managed to hang on, though, and made it through with my dignity mostly intact.

As you decide to exercise, my advice is:

  1. talk to your doctor to make sure your body can handle it – seriously, a heart attack on the treadmill is just a buzzkill for everybody,
  2. consult a professional (a certified personal trainer, if possible) and ask for their help in developing a program that works for you,
  3. DO SOMETHING YOU ENJOY! If you hate it or just tolerate it, you’ll never stick with it.

Tonight, I drove home with my knees, can’t lift my arms and had to pretty much fall out of the car when I arrived at the house.  The four-inch step to the stoop required a Herculean effort.  Thursday, I may have to pay someone to apply my make-up, brush my teeth and do my hair.  Friday, I’ll likely start crying the moment I wake.  Saturday, class is at 8 AM and I’ll be there because, yep, I. LOVE. IT.

Accountability, Thought Patterns

Fencing Fear

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foil fencing-001A recent networking function went like they do: socializing, personal introductions, elevator speeches, target referrals, speaker. Jim, the speaker, had some really interesting points to make about fear which got me thinking further.  (By now you know that I’m prone to that kind of thing – taking an idea and running afield with it.)

In the same industry, Jim and I deal with subjects that are less than warm and fuzzy – a lot less.  We talk with people about loss – loss of life, income, and health – the stuff nobody wants to talk about.  Stuff we are afraid to talk about. Afraid to jinx ourselves by even mentioning misfortune lest we summon up that Boogeyman by uttering his name. Afraid to admit that we don’t understand. Afraid that we are not doing it right. Afraid that someone will tell us to change something. Afraid to find out that we are wrong. And, sometimes, afraid to find out that we are right.

We all fear things: failure, success, spiders, change, vulnerability, loss, ridicule, orange food. Okay, that last one may just be Billy Bob Thornton, but the rest of our fears are fairly universal.  We can’t let them dictate our lives; but, that’s a struggle.

I started this blog to talk about losing weight acquired during The Great Regain.  As it happened, I started a new job at the same time and, frankly, the weight loss is not going so great.  I’m terrified that I’m going to gain it all back and fail publicly.  I’m terrified that I’m going to gain it all back and disappoint myself and my son. I’m terrified that I’m going to gain it all back and fail all of you who have been so complimentary and supportive.  I’m terrified that I’m going to gain it all back.  Period.

It seems that every day I start with new resolve and, every day, I let myself get sidetracked by something – muffins at a coffee appointment, M&Ms for lunch, no energy for the gym.  I know what the answers are here.  I’ve done it.  Schedule time for exercise and stick with it. Make your meals beforehand. Fill three-quarters of the plate with vegetables. Plan. Plan. Plan.

Exercise plan. Meal plan. Game plan. Battle plan.  I have to develop and adhere to all four to combat and defeat my fear of losing more ground. I have to go on the offensive to regain the ground I’ve lost. I’ve got to remember that I’m the only one who can do it and that I cannot let up until I’ve reached my goal.

En guarde, y’all!

Thought Patterns

Blow Pop or Blowhard?

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goblinI really love Dean Koontz novels.  In 1985’s Twilight Eyes, main character Slim MacKenzie uses psychic powers to hunt monsters that mimic humans.  The monsters (goblins) feed on human suffering.  When Slim sees them gathering in large numbers, he knows that they have engineered something tragic to happen – like a ferris wheel failing, killing or injuring all aboard and around it.   Okay, so maybe the book isn’t realistic; but, when I read it, I thought how appropriate that concept of goblins masquerading as humans was.  They may look like a duck, walk and quack like a duck, but, honey, they ain’t no duck!

Now, think about that for a minute.  I’ve talked about emotional vampires before – those people who just suck the very will to live out of your bones.   These are not “glass half-empty” people: they are “someone stole half my water” people.  They never have anything positive to say and mock anyone who tries to improve themselves.  You know who they are.  You are thinking of them right now.  Now, think about those people you know who are slyly negative.  They spread rumors, create friction and start conflict just to watch others deal with the uproar. They appear to be supportive, but point out every pit-fall, every time, just so you can be “realistic.” Uh-huh.  Him.  Her. Yep, they’re goblins.

They destroy, not build.  We have to guard against their destructiveness, against their efforts to turn our spirits into shadows.  More than that, we have to guard against their efforts to turn us into them. It is so easy to respond to their venom with venom of our own – and from time to time may be necessary – but, when we allow it to become a habit, we begin to lose our reflections in the mirror.

As an agent for American Eagle, I took all kinds of abuse.  I had things thrown at me, was belittled and literally called everything but a child of God.  One nasty passenger could just ruin my attitude – and for the whole day, if I let them.  One night, a stranger reminded me that for every horrible, blowhard passenger, there were hundreds of great ones.

Way back when Moses was in short pants, American Eagle pilots overnighting in Columbus, MS, stayed in a hotel that had a charity box selling Blow-Pops at the front desk. I regularly asked the guys to bring me one, but those cheapskates busy pilots never did. One evening, I was working my normal closing shift when the phone rang. The caller wanted to know if the flight from Nashville was on time. As it happened, the captain, whom I was dating, had just called in-range to say that they would be on the ground in 15 to 20 minutes. I had previously given him a hard time about sweetly requested that he bring me Charms Blow-Pops; so, when he called in, I asked if he had candy for me. “Nope,” said he. “Then you’d better be here in 15,” said I. Now, for whatever reason (youth, vanity, stupidity, whatever) I related the gist of this conversation to this unknown caller, hung up the phone and promptly forgot the whole thing. The flight arrived; passengers deplaned; bags unloaded; aircraft cleaned and put to bed. Just before walking out the door, I stopped by the ticket counter to make certain that I had secured everything. Lying on top of one of the printers, was a Charms Blow-Pop. The only person who would have left that there was the caller whose name I didn’t know and whom, to my knowledge, I never met. That stranger made my evening and gave me a lesson far more valuable than the 25 cent lollipop.

Every day, we encounter great people with the occasional goblin thrown in.  The temptation is there; but, ultimately, our responses are up to us.  What do we choose to be: builder or destroyer? sprite or goblin? Blow Pop or blow-hard?

Thought Patterns

Restoring My Soul

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My spirit got a little banged up over the last couple of weeks.  I was dealing with all kinds of head trash and serious cerebral poppycock.  On Thursday, I developed a plan to get back on course and I began implementing it. Friday saw me making strides in the office, then spending time with my friend Nan sharing burdens Friday night.

Sun, breeze and waterThe real restoration work began on Saturday when I got a haircut.  I didn’t make any huge style change but she cleaned up the edges and gave me some little side bangs.  Just a little change, but I felt perkier the second I walked out the door.  Then, I went kayaking with my friend Mark.  We didn’t fight any white water or brave any rapids.  We paddled upstream for awhile then paddled and floated back downstream.  We talked about the weird trivial things we both seem to know.  We enjoyed the warm sun, the gentle breeze and the general lack of mechanized noise.  No radios. No phones. No cars. Few motorized boats and few aircraft.  It was us, the sound of the water, the odd fishing jumping and the birds. It was peaceful.

Sunday was spent in the company of The Bestest Dad Ever, cousins, and friends in Memphis.  A lunch that couldn’t be beat (hum a few bars of Alice’s Restaurant here) saw the table groaning from the weight of smothered pork chops, green bean casserole, mashed potatoes, grilled chicken, baked zucchini with pecorino romano, pink beans, biscuits, layered salad, cucumber tomato salad, and (in spite of my milk issues) tres leches cake.  Tres leche cake isn’t in the eating program, you say?  Well……. Aside from the splendid food, the company was genial and enjoyable.

On the whole, the weekend was just the balm my bruised spirit needed.  And what does it boil down to?  A battle plan for fixing the things that have gone wrong and time with – you got it – my support system!

If you are tired, wounded, or bruised.  I can say to you with renewed conviction that you MUST identify your support system and use them to restore your spirit.  You can tell them that you’re leaning on them or not, it doesn’t matter.  They are your support system and time spent with people who truly love you and who truly want what is best for you is priceless. (And every great now and then, a slice of truly exceptional tres leche cake is pretty priceless, too.)

Do those things that soothe you – listen to good music, go for a hike, ride a horse, take in a movie, reread your favorite book.  If your spirit is bruised or harassed, you’ve got to take a little time to restore it.  It is your core.  If it isn’t healthy, the rest of you cannot be sustained.  Take care of the center of who you are.

Again today, I’m working on that for me.

 

Accountability, Habits, Thought Patterns

Apathy Isn’t a City in Greece

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Looking back at this week’s posts, you can see that a certain joy is lacking – or at least I can.  This week has been a tough one for me, internally.  I’ve had some things come up that have been major stressors and I would love to tell you that I arose victorious over them, celery stick in hand, running shoes on feet.  Yeah, well, except that didn’t happen.  For breakfast one morning, I had brownie batter.  That’s right, batter. I didn’t even cook it.  I was jonesing for the chocolate so bad, it’s really a wonder that I even put the water, eggs and oil in the mix.

Parthenon at Centennial ParkThe cobwebs of last week’s negativity are still clinging to me a bit and I’m behind in my work.  In this new career, if you get behind a little, you get behind a lot.  I can make it up since I believe in the value proposition of what I do; however, next week, I’m going to have to run three times as fast. I know that I have all that work to look forward to and I know that there is no one to blame but myself.  Don’t you just hate that?!  When you want to get your mad on at someone, but the only person who really deserves it is yourself?

I haven’t cared enough to fight, that’s my real crime.  We talk about it all the time – we fight cravings, we fight laziness, we fight poor decisions.  We do all of these things because we are fighting for ourselves.  I didn’t do that this week.  I let the tide of apathy wash over me carrying with it reruns of NCIS and brownie batter when I should have been fighting that tide with walks and tri-colored carrots.

No, Apathy isn’t a city in Greece and it’s not a cataclysmic force, either.  It is a slowly rising tide – the one that rises so slowly, you don’t realize you’re in over your head until you actually are.  Apathy creeps up on us.  It steals into our diets one snack at a time and into our wardrobes with larger sizes and elastic waists. Apathy is the root of more failure than any other factor and we don’t even notice it.  We have to notice it, though.  We have to remember the end goal and keep working towards it.

I failed this week in a big way; however, because I know that denial isn’t a river in Egypt (Oh, c’mon! Don’t act like you didn’t know that was coming), I have to own these failures, forgive myself for them, and move on.