Thought Patterns

The Bobblehead Goddess

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BBP01022lgI’m late publishing today and I’m not going to write on healthier meat choices as I had planned.  Yesterday was a ridiculous day for me and I’m going to share some of it with you. I hadn’t originally thought that I would since I claim that whole Positive Thinking Blog Goddess thing and it was really not a positive day; however, after talking with my aunt Judy (remember her?) I changed my mind.

As you know, I’ve been under a great deal of stress lately – personally and professionally – and I don’t seem to be able to find effective relief for either sector.  Clearly, I’ve never been a boxer; but, I feel like if I lean left to dodge a punch to the right, I run into a fist from the left. If I lean right, I hit a fist from that direction.  I don’t feel like I recover my equilibrium from the right hook before I’m hit with a left uppercut. For weeks now, I’ve been reeling. Yesterday, I caught another jab to the mid-section.

My son called to report that someone had broken into his truck. They stole his backpack containing all of his class notes and a calculator. The monetary value of what they stole was maybe ten bucks. The cost to my son was far greater in that those notes represented hours of class time and he cannot get those back. The cost to me is that now I have to pay to replace the broken window. At this point in my life and career, the cost of that repair will mean more sacrifices in some other area. It’s not something I have just sitting around.

And I’m angry about that.

I’m angry that people take things that don’t belong to them. I’m angry that someone totaled my car in my own driveway in March and left. I’m angry that people don’t take responsibility for themselves and for their actions. I’m angry that those of us who strive every day to be good people and to leave situations better than we found them get nailed. I’m angry that I now have to figure out how to fix the damage some %$#(*&^ caused.

I’m angry and I’m tired.

When I spoke with Judy about this yesterday, she said that she enjoys reading the blog because she feels like it’s our morning cup of tea together. She also said that she enjoys it because of its authenticity. (Well, to a degree. In person, I often have a potty mouth. Out of respect for you, I clean it up here.)  She enjoys it because it reminds her that she’s not alone in her victories and celebrations, and it reminds her that she’s not alone in her struggles, her frustrations or her defeats. Your comments remind me of the same things.

So, today, as I struggle to deal with this most recently landed punch, I share that struggle with you. I am trying to remain positive even while I’m angry that, once again, the best thing I can say about the situation is that, “It’s not as bad as it might have been.”

Food

The Impossible Once Ways Diet – Plants

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Well, maybe it’s not impossible…if you homestead…..using heirloom seeds…..no chemical fertilizers….no chemical insecticides.  Or live near anyone else who does.

VictoryGardenWhat I’m talking about is eating like the ancestors – if your great-grandmother didn’t need it, neither should you. The sad reality is that, if we shop in a grocery store, we will have a very hard time eating like our great-grandmothers – even if we buy all of the ingredients that sound the same as what she used to use. Why? There are lots of reasons and Monsanto isn’t behind all of them.

Let’s start with the actual soil. Industrial farming uses chemical fertilizers and insecticides that just weren’t around 100 years ago. Even so, soil on those farms is less nutrient rich than soil on organic farms. That results in vegetables that are also less nutrient rich. The plant cannot give to us what it can’t get from the soil.

Next, there’s the water. I’ve flushed unused meds down the toilet and thought nothing of it. You probably have, too. Millions of us have. What we actually did was to put those chemicals out into the ground water*. Neither Sewage treatment nor boiling will remove them.  Millions of pills down the commode result in pharmaceuticals in the tap and bottled water we use to drink, cook, brush our teeth, make ice cubes and water our crops with. While the amounts are small, the chemicals are still there and the cummulative effects are really unknown.

Then there are those monstrous GMOs. Genetically Modified Organisms are not the result of traditional cross-breeding. This ain’t Gregor Mendel, y’all and we’re a lot closer to the Island of Dr. Moreau than we are to an Austrian monastery. GMOs are plants whose genes have been engineered to include DNA from bacteria and viruses.  GMOs have been linked to disease and the alarming increase in the incidents of food allergies** to the extent that European consumers refused to buy the products once labeling was required. No demand forced food companies stopped selling them. In the US, no such labeling is required. We don’t even know we’re eating the Franken-est of Franken Foods.

Finally, there are growth and production methods.  Veggies are picked before they’re ripe so that they can be shipped, decreasing their nutrient content. Grains like modern wheat are highly processed to increase their shelf life. The most nutrient rich parts of the wheat are processed out, including the bran and the oils, which will go rancid, causing spoilage.  Whiter flour is better for the producer, but worse for the consumer.

We can buy organic, which has only a small risk of some contamination just from wind and water movement. Crops are rotated and the soil fertilized using natural methods. Heirloom seeds are used for plants that are allowed to ripen in the soil. It’s a great option…..if you can afford it.

Even when we think we’re eating healthfully, we may not be. Sadly, the FDA, the organization we trust to make sure our food is nutritious and safe, fails us on a monumental scale. As in everything involving politics, there are lobbyist and multi-national companies paying for air time (and even board spaces in the past) with the administration. It’s all about making a buck. To protect our foods, we have to educate ourselves, buy organic, grow our own or at least make the best choices we can within our budgets.

I vote we bring back the Victory Gardens!

 

And this is just the plant side of things! We haven’t even talked about the animal side with growth hormones, antibiotics and the rest of man’s meddling. We’ll do that tomorrow!

 

 

*http://www.webmd.com/a-to-z-guides/features/drugs-in-our-drinking-water

**http://www.huffingtonpost.com/edison-de-mello-md-phd/gmos_b_3854198.html

Food

Fair Fare

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Me with precious friends Ramona, Tammy and Cindy.

Sunday, it was my great pleasure to go to the Webb School Arts & Crafts Festival in Bell Buckle, TN.  If you’re ever in the area when it (or the RC Cola and Moon Pie Festival) is going on, I strongly suggest that you put it in your schedule.  The festival takes over the entire town and is just a hoot and a half!  I went with some sweet friends and I’m just gonna have to talk about the food.

Ice cream stands dotted the festival but it was far to cold for them to be doing much business.  The same cannot be said for the funnel cakes, the cheese steak sandwiches, the polish sausage with peppers and onions, barbeque, ruffle fries, chicken on a stick (with sides of potatoes and corn – I’ll get to those later), roasted corn, turkey legs, peanuts (boiled, roasted or cinnamon coated) and all manner of fried pickles, cookies, snack cakes and candy bars.  Remember when funnel cakes were the biggest splurge on the menu?! Not anymore! You can have deep fried oreos, twinkies, snickers and peanut butter cups.  My stomach hurt just looking at it.

At the chicken on a stick stand, I watched the guy put A POUND of butter in the potatoes.  A pound. I have no clue what was in the corn.  While I like the taste of it, I hardly ever eat corn anymore -unless it’s in cornbread, I am Southern, after all. (Note: of course kettle corn is exempt from any corn rules. To review, it is a gift from the gods, not a lowly grain.) When my sister lived in Germany, the Germans used to comment about Americans eating livestock food. That’s about all they use corn for – for pigs and cows.  And, really, that’s about all it’s good for.  We humans get nearly no nutritional value out of it.

We enjoyed our brunch of pulled pork sans bun (saving those calories for kettle corn, don’t you know), which was a pretty good option.  We skipped the sides and I went light on the sauce – the barbeque sauce, that is, not Sauce-sauce.  It was Sunday morning, for goodness sake. (Although, wait, we did buy some tequila jelly and moonshine pickles. Maybe there was a little Sauce-sauce.) Nutritionally sound choices were few and far between.

However…

That’s not the point, is it? The point is that we were celebrating Fall – my very favorite season. A treat from time to time is allowed – particularly when you’re walking six hours looking at arts, crafts and what-in-the-worlds. As in everything, balance is the key. I did not dive into those fried dill pickle spears like I wanted to not because of calories, but because: 1. I didn’t have a beer, and 2. deep fried foods now give me a stomach ache.  The memory of enjoying them will just have to serve.  On occasions like this, it’s essential to remember to live a little.  Allow yourself to enjoy life.  Breathe deeply of the crisp air and enjoy some pumpkin bread.  When going to a fair, save a few calories and let yourself enjoy the fair fare. After all, it’s the kettle corn mother ship!

Thought Patterns

Knowing the Need

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We spend a lot of time learning to identify things and to teach our young to identify them. It’s important to be able to discern friend from foe, and danger from safety, right? We learn to identify things that are obviously different – chalk from cheese, fish from fowl, and Mississippi State fan from Ole Miss fan. (We’re the ones with the cowbells.  They’re the ones with no mascot.  Or, put another way, we’re the ones with the cowbells. They’re the ones that just beat LSU.)

Here are a few teasers: can you tell a dolphin from a porpoise? How about an ape from a monkey? A sea lion from a seal? Or, here’s a big one, a want from a need?

That’s the kicker.  Knowing what we need.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAWithout going too far into detail (on account of you really don’t need all that nonsense) I’ll tell you that at this particular juncture in my life, I’m having to relearn this skill.  My pets need food. I WANT for them to have Iam’s.  My cats need litter. I need for them to have Dr. Elsey’s litter (otherwise, the smell.  Oh, god! The smell.) I need a car. I WANT my Subaru. I need food. I WANT seafood and sirloin prepared by someone else. When my Sweet recently did a scarper, I WANTED an explanation. I didn’t get one and I’m still alive; so, I don’t guess I needed that. I WANTED his company; but, as it turns out, I just NEEDED my friends.

Eating healthfully, exercising, sleeping enough, hydrating, spending time with positive people – these are things that I need and that you need. The rest of what we do are more wants that needs.  I want to go to the movies. I want to go to the library. I want to go back to Venice.  Right now, I need to focus on building my business. I need to stay in touch with good people. I need to take care of my body.  My daily productive time is limited; so, it’s essential that I be able to discern my needs from my wants.

I had thought that life would be easier when I got to this age.  Of course, I also thought that I would have had a normal life with at least one marriage, PTO meetings, soccer games, job security, etc. I somehow missed the boat on a lot of those things and I don’t know if these current challenges are a result of that or if they would have come my way anyway. I do know that the challenges have a wide exit path leading to self-pity, anger and depression. That path is easy to find. They have a much narrower exit path leading to success.  That path is hard to find.

Simple or difficult, I have to continue to search for that path.  I need it.

Thought Patterns

The Danger of the Self Lie

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Yesterday, in a business discussion, the subject of self-delusion (and our reluctance to confront it) was raised.  I believe that it’s one thing to knowingly lie to other people – something that is bad enough.  But, it’s a whole other issue when we lie to ourselves. When we start to believe our own press, we’re in big trouble.

liesAnd we all do it, don’t we?

I smoked off and on (mostly on) for the better part of 20 years – sometimes up to two packs a day. “I won’t get emphysema, lung cancer, throat cancer, tongue cancer, etc. That happens to other people.” It happened to my grandfather, two of my uncles and one of my aunts.  Those “other people” sure were close to me!  Still, I kept my butt in the air and my head in the sand.

I’ve been overweight or obese for most of my life. “I won’t have diabetes, arthritis, high blood pressure, stroke, heart attack, etc.  That happens to other people.” Again, it happened to my grandmother, at least one of my aunts, and an uncle.  Wow.  What a coincidence that those “other people” were so close to me again!

The point is that we don’t want to face our failures or our ignorance.  We might not know how to plan our meals effectively for either nutrition or a budget. We might not know how to invest our money or save for our futures. We might not know how to exercise to receive the most benefit and minimize our risk of injury. We might not know how to best buy a car, buy a house, or effectively insure those belongings or ourselves.  There are lots of things that we don’t know, that we may suspect we are doing ineffectively or outright incorrectly, but we convince ourselves that it’s okay. That as long as we don’t look at the failure, it’s not there. As a result, we don’t seek professional council that could save us.

We tell everyone we’re okay and doing fine when we suspect or when we know that we’re not.  Finally, we believe the lie and all hope of correction is lost.

Well, not lost, exactly.  We might have some kind of Road to Damascus moment. We might have friends stage an intervention. We might have a professional take us by the lapels and get our attention.

As you know, for me, it was my visit to my doctor on July 24, 2011. That nurse practitioner metaphorically took me by the lapels and said that if I didn’t stop living the lie that my extra weight wasn’t hurting me, it was going to kill me.  I’m fortunate. I didn’t have to have a heart attack, a stroke or a diabetes diagnosis to wake up.

I’m not going to lie to either one of us and say that there aren’t places in my life where I still need to wake up and smell the coffee.  But, I can tell you that my obesity is no longer one of them and I couldn’t be more pleased.  Imperfect creature that I am (stop snickering, sister of mine), my work on eradicating self-deception will never end.

And I trust that’s not a lie I tell myself.

Thought Patterns

Mirror, Mirror, On the Wall….

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….who’s the blindest one of all?

One day, I had lunch with my friend Nan.  In discussing a business venture, she used a word that struck fear directly into my heart.  She said that I would need to write down my (gulp) dreams.

mirror wall 072Now, friends, I’ll tell you, more than once over the years I’ve metaphorically had my teeth kicked in – sometimes through no fault of my own, sometimes completely through fault of my own.  During those times, I lost dreams.  I lost them to the extent that I just stopped dreaming.  I was too afraid to lose any more.

So, when Nan said the D word, I actually excused myself from the table for a moment.  While I was washing my hands and composing myself, I looked at my reflection.  I looked at my NON-OBESE reflection.  Wait a minute. I’m not obese anymore. For years, that was less a dream than a fantasy. Yet.  There I am. Right in the looking glass.  A reality.

Today, while I am still struggling to believe that my professional dreams will come true, I start a new road that is going to be even harder than the very difficult one I was already on. I’m having to swallow my pride to do what I have to do and, y’all, that’s hard for me.  I’m not overly proud about most things; but, those things I am proud of are very difficult for me to let go of. For at least the next three months, I’m going to have to let go of them.

To be honest, I’m angry, frustrated, disappointed and humiliated by this. However, if my dream has any hope of ever being reality, I must suck it up and get through these coming months. My dream is worth it.

So, what about you? What dream do you relegate to the corner of your mind because you’re afraid to admit to it and have it fail? C’mon. I’m pretty sure you’ve got one. How long has it been there? Take a good hard look at it. Do you really want it? Really? If you don’t and it’s more of a habit than an actual dream, let it go. While you’ll cringe at first, eventually, your spirit will feel lighter and you’ll wonder why you didn’t do it before.

If you really want it, it’s going to cost you.  You may have to eat a little crow, sacrifice a little or a lot more, and work your butt off to give it a fighting chance. So, get to it already! If you succeed, then, there you go. And, if you fail, at least you know and your thoughts and desires are based in reality.

In either case – whether you release or follow the dream, whether you succeed or fail – you win.

Now. Today. I am putting my money where my mouth is and, frankly, I feel nauseated. But, it’s time for me to want it enough to pay for it. It’s time to succeed or fail. It’s time to win.

Accountability, Exercise, Food

IDonWanna

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sulking boyYou know those days when you’re just itching to get to the gym and get in a great workout? (Pretend. Work with me, here.) Well, last night wasn’t one of them.  So, I bought a two liter of Vernor’s Ginger Ale, a pint of Phish Food, a bag of kettle corn and I settled onto the couch to watch my very own Timothy Olyphant film festival.

Okay, no, I didn’t.

I went to the gym anyway and did my full workout. I didn’t want to; but, I put on my big girl panties and got it done. Why? Because I’ve made a commitment to myself and I’m not going to cheat with Phish Food and Timothy Olyphant. (Okay, maybe him, but not the ice cream.) I’m working too hard at removing these last pounds to derail myself with a sugar coma of Biblical proportions, which would be the result of that menu, I can assure you.

Parenting is easier on days when we’re in a good mood, our children are behaving like humans and we don’t get stuck in traffic behind either a bus or a garbage truck. Likewise, dieting is easier on days when we aren’t at the mercy of hormone cravings, when the beautiful weather inspires a long walk, and our schedules have plenty of time for a workout. The occurrences of those kinds of days are roughly equivalent and may coincide with blue moons. The real world just doesn’t operate like that most of the time.

I was tired from work, stressed over a million things, had chores at home and just didn’t feel like it. I felt like my cousin’s daughter who simply refused to get dressed for school yesterday. Had I been that toddler, I’d have stared defiantly and said, “IDonWanna.” Well, IDonWanna ain’t gonna get me back into my cute skirts, now, is it? IDonWanna isn’t going to get me to my goals or do me any favors. All it’s going to do is inspire guilt and crank up those nasty, old, unhealthy recordings again.

For me, it’s easier to fight the Inner Toddler if I have some kind of routine. I don’t make it to the gym at the same time every night, but I try to get close.  And I’m establishing the habit of going every weekday.  If I go only on alternating days, I will find reasons not to go – laundry, dishes, navel gazing. Maybe you can go on alternating days and, if that works for you, go for it!  In the oddest things, though, I prefer uniformity and one of those things is in my schedule.  I like some kind of pattern and predictability.  It allows me to get into a groove that can become a habit that I can keep.

Building those habits helps motivate me on days when the Inner Toddler is running amok. The pattern and routine help keep me on track when, like Hays, I really just donwanna.

Body Changes

It’s Sort of Like Alien Abduction

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Yesterday, I experienced another weird side-effect of weight loss that I’d forgotten about – periodic, transient numbness.

I spent a lot of the day sitting at my desk with my legs crossed.  My right knee is not a fan of being crossed over the left; so, I spent most of the day with the left over the right.  Last night, the skin on outside of my left calf was numb. This happened throughout the Great Reduction; but, I’d forgotten about it. Funny how quickly I forget some things – like this numbness, how pregnancy wrecked my hair and how much I dislike parades. (I try to like them since it just seems so anti-social not to.  Just can’t do it.) Anyway, as I’ve said over and over: I am not a doctor; so, I can’t give you the scientific reason for this. However, my guess is that while my legs were crossed, I put pressure on the nerves on the outside of the calf and around the knee.  As a result, they are now numb for awhile.

cow abductionDuring the Great Reduction, I experienced this several times in my toes, my lower legs, the middle of my back and sometimes in my fingers.  The numbness never lasted very long, was never accompanied by any tingling and never seemed to do any lasting harm.  It was just disturbing at first and weird afterwards.

As I lose these last few pounds, I expect that I’ll experience this more frequently. Insulating fat is being lost, making nerves more accessible to pressure. There is less fat between the nerves and the hard surfaces of the bones and of, well, hard surfaces. The nerves will get pinched between bones and pressure from the outside.  If it happens like before, eventually, everything will settle down, find a new place without all of the insulation and the instances of numbness decrease and finally disappear.

In the meantime, if you’re experiencing this, try not to be alarmed. I went through it, too.  And, although I’d hardly classify the experience as normal just because I’ve had it, too, at least you know that you’re not alone.  Kind of like all those people who have been abducted.

Body Changes, Exercise

Out, Damned Spot

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The past couple of weeks have found me at the gym about ten days.  My typical workout consists of 15 to 20 minutes of hard cardio, 30 minutes of weightlifting, and 15 minutes on a treadmill. I alternate what I’m working on with weights. One day it’s arms, shoulders, chest and back. The next day it’s legs, hips and core. I’m already seeing some significant results; however, I’m also seeing some other things.

Namely flying squirrel arms.

The reality of having a lot of fat for a long time is that I had all the skin required to cover it.  Now that the fat’s not there, the skin doesn’t know it’s not needed anymore and doesn’t seem to be hitting the road.  So, I’ve got extra skin – particularly on my arms, abdomen and thighs.  And, I’m not going to lie, it bothers me. It bothers me that it’s there and it bothers me that cosmetic surgery is really the only way to totally get rid of it.

pointing fingerWe see articles all the time about losing belly fat or trimming our thighs or getting a smaller posterior.  The truth is (and you already know this) without liposuction. we cannot spot reduce the fat in our bodies.  The body calls up the contents of fat cells for usage in whatever order it decides.  Right now, I’m 13 pounds away from my goal and, if I got a vote, almost all of them would come from between my rib cage and my knees. I have not been issued a voter registration card, though, so I’m fairly certain I will not get any input on this.

So, I can’t determine where the fat comes from; however, I can make certain that I am diligent in exercising the muscles in those areas that I’d like to see decrease.  I can work to firm and condition the underlying muscles.  As those firm up, even with the extra skin, the appearance of the whole area is improved. I’m told that the extra skin will decrease over time, as well; but, that it takes several years.  Oh, well.  I was planning on living them, anyway.  Might as well see if that is true, right?

As I said, I’m 13 pounds away from my goal and I’m confident that (like last time) my bra size will reduce to Why Bother before my thighs are where I’d like for them to be. C’est la vie! I will keep working towards that goal, fitting back in my favorite skirts from last year and I won’t worry about the rest of it.

I don’t like the extra skin, but it’s not going to kill me the way the fat was.  And, I’d like to lose the rest in my hips and thighs, but if I don’t, that won’t kill me either.  What will kill me is living the way I was, eating whatever I wanted, allowing my head trash to get in the way, and never exercising. I might not be able to spot reduce fat; but, I can certainly spot reduce unhealthful habits.

To those, I can be my very own Lady McBeth and command: Out, damned spot!

Body Changes

How Did THAT Get There?!

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As I lost fat, my body topography changed. Duh, right? I mean, there were changes that I expected like my waist getting smaller, my wrists and arms getting thinner, losing some junk in my trunk. I expected all those things, but there were some changes that just never occurred to me.

One day, I looked down at my abdomen and there was a scar on my belly, just above my belly-button.  It was weird. I mean, you’d think I would remember an injury significant enough to leave a scar like that, wouldn’t you? But I was drawing a total blank!  Until, that is, I remembered having my gallbladder removed. The procedure was done laparoscopically and one of the incisions was on my abdomen.  The thing is, it was INSIDE my belly-button, not above it.  As I lost weight, my belly got flatter and the scar appeared to move, blowing my mind. But, that wasn’t the only thing that did.

My head, neck and feet shrunk, too.

I have a gigantic head.  No, seriously.  A great, big, old egg. My kangaroo felt Akubra hat is a size 60.  When I lived in Pennsylvania, it was my go-to hat for shoveling sidewalks and keeping my head warm going to work.  It took every single centimeter of the circumference to hold my noggin and hair.  It’s too big for me now.  Even with the same huge mane, the hat slips around on my head.  I was, in fact, a fat-head and, it turns out, a fat-neck.

I had a couple of necklaces that hung just to the bottom of that dip at the base of my neck (the jugular notch – for your cocktail party trivia of the day).  Now, those same necklaces hang a good inch lower than that.  Again, I never thought about my neck having a layer of fat that significant; but, clearly, it did.  Today, I can see my sternocleidomastoid muscle when I turn my head (that’s the muscle that runs from behind my ear to my clavicle.  And, yes, I had to look that up just now.)  There’s not much excess fat on my neck anymore – or on my feet.

Probably the biggest surprise was my feet. I’ve never really thought that my feet were fat – they certainly weren’t Fred Flintstone feet.  However, I lost one whole shoe size (or maybe they’ve changed how they size shoes, I’m not sure). Most of the shoes I wore before are just a little loose – like they’ve been stretched out.  My favorite white sandal wedges are a safety hazard now that my foot moves around so much in them.  Not that I was particularly graceful on them to begin with; but, now, I’m a $10,000 video waiting to happen in those things.

As we discussed last Friday when we talked about the excitement of excavating one’s own skeleton, losing weight is truly a voyage of discovery.  The body I thought I knew, I didn’t really know at all.  Things have moved, shrunk, tighten and, yes, sagged. Regardless, I’m thrilled with the introduction!

Thoughts about everything and nothing in an effort to be a better person than I was yesterday.