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 Take that, Monday! Well, it’s Monday and we are 9 days into the year. I danced for 8 days straight. A little sad to admit that I skipped it yesterday and slipped up on my commitment to #12in12. Unfortunately, it was one of those things that just happened. I had planned to use the Wii to do Just Dance or Zumba in the afternoon and every time I thought about it, someone else was using the Wii. I figured I’d have a chance to get on later that evening. And then I got busy, making dinner and taking my kids to their Sunday school classes. By the time I got home, around 8 pm, I was beat. And I knew I was getting up early so I could be at the gym at 4:45 this morning. So, I skipped it.
And you know what? I really missed it! I’m digging Zumba & it’s always fun to have a dance off with my adorable 9 year old daughter, Audra, on one of the Just Dance titles we have. Saturday, I used the new platform for the Wii balance board I got for Christmas & did 30 minutes of Wii step, so I danced in the kitchen while I was making dinner. We really need to upgrade the flooring in the room where we keep the Wii & I wasn’t sure my calves could take any more pounding that day.
Dancing every day has been a blast. But I’m still keeping up on my regular exercise commitments. Today I did my usual upper body strength training regimen & then 45 minutes on the elliptical. I’ve got all my required work done for the day and will work later on other projects. But for now, I’m headed to the Wii to do some dancing. Anyone care to join me?
So, I’ve been on a bit of a blogcation lately. And, who knows, I might not keep blogging regularly. It is something I enjoy, but don’t always have time for on a consistent basis. (Perhaps you’ve noticed?) But, I wanted to let you know about something fun I’m doing this year. I’m not really a resolutions type. Mostly because they tend to be the same every year & that just makes me question my, well, resolve. But my pal Jacqueline, whom you all probably know as Fitarella, had a brilliant suggestion & I really took it to heart. Her idea is #12in12 and you can read more about it on her blog. Basically, you pick 12 things you want to accomplish and commit to each one for a month. At the end of the month, you decide whether or not you want to continue, as well as moving on to something else.
I thought, Wow, now that’s my kind of approach. I can make a resolution, or whatever you want to call it, and still have a safety net in case I feel the need to bail because I overestimated my interest or time, or if something’s just not working for me. I can do that. So, guess what I’m doing for January? Well, if you read the title of this blog post, you probably already guessed. Yep, dancing. Every day. For 31 days.
As a former aerobics instructor, I REALLY miss getting up and moving to music. But there are no classes in my area. And, to be honest, I’m not sure how comfortable I’d feel taking a class now. Let me explain … this may take a little while, but I promise you I’ll come back to this whole #12in12 thing.
When I was teaching aerobics, I was in the best shape of my life. Of course, I was 18-19 years old and an athlete who rarely ate red meat, didn’t sit all day for work, and hadn’t discovered the convenience of the drive-through window yet. My idea of indulging was using the really big bowl for my salad. When my friends said they were going to McDonald’s, my standard answer was, “How can you eat that shit?” If I tagged along, I got a drink and maybe a small order of fries, but that was it. I did my homework on the floor so I could stretch, just as I’d done in track, gymnastics, and ballet.
Another thing about that time in my life: I was raised in a household that encouraged tolerance and acceptance. I was also raised in a household where everyone was overweight except me. And as such, I sought out those people who belonged to my gym who seemed uncomfortable. Everyone has a different story & is at a different stage on their journey. They made the commitment to come to the gym today and take my classes. Respect that. Maybe they were overweight. Obese. Morbidly obese. Maybe they were just uncoordinated or socially awkward. There was something that made them think they didn’t belong there.
But I knew better. In fact, it was always my belief that they needed to be there more than anyone else. So I reached out and encouraged those people–women and men–to join my low-impact aerobics and water fitness classes. I trolled the weight room, located above the dance studio, for potential customers. Anyone can do it, I’d say. Just take one class, you’ll see. I use great music. New wave, Motown, classic rock. It’s a blast. Really, I promise that you can do it. Heck, when I torqued my ACL, I even taught my classes from a chair for 2 weeks until I could get back on my feet. When I say anyone can do it, I’m not kidding.
It was so gratifying to see these people come to my classes and move. And smile. For some of them, I knew it was something they hadn’t done in years. We worked and we sweated and we rocked out and we goofed up and we laughed about it and we had a great time. And we burned some calories and felt good about ourselves. I loved walking through class and standing next to that really large woman who was having a hard time keeping up and showing her a simple modification that helped her make it to the next exercise. I’d say, “Wow, look at you,” or “You’re doing great,” and smile. I wouldn’t give up until I got her to clap along and smile back. That brought me so much joy. I wanted them all to know that I wasn’t giving up on them, so they shouldn’t give up on themselves. And I’m proud to say, I never lost a customer. Not one of them ever walked out, even though I knew a lot of them wanted to at some point.
And then … life happened. I went off to college and had to give up my job that paid me to work out every day and let me use the gym for free any time I wanted. When people talk about their biggest regrets in life, that’s one of my biggest. If I could go back to that 19 year old girl & talk some sense into her, I’d do it in a heartbeat. But at any rate, I kept eating like I had the metabolism of an athlete, even though I wasn’t one anymore. And that was just the start of a long list of bad habits and regrettable decisions. I didn’t dance, or do any kind of exercise, anymore. And my health suffered immeasurably.
So, let’s fast forward past all of those unwise choices and just skip to the present day, shall we? I am now 44 years old. I have 2 children and work at home. I work out four to five days a week but can’t seem to find the discipline to get myself back to the kind of shape that would make me feel proud of my body. Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m actually pretty healthy if you look at my blood pressure, heart rate, cholesterol, etc. I’m proud of that. But I don’t like my size right now. It makes it difficult to keep up with my kids and do all the things I want to do. And just a few years ago, I lost a lot of weight and felt so much better than I do now. I’ve put some of it back on and although I’m not nearly where I was at my heaviest, I’m not where I want to be. So I’m trying to change that.
 Well, it hit me one day that one of the best things I could do is dance.
Why not?
It’s a great way to burn calories and use muscles I don’t normally use. But there’s a much bigger benefit for me: It’s good for my soul.
It makes me feel alive. It boosts my energy like nothing else. (Uhhh, outside of grown-folks activities, that is.) And it just makes me feel like a rock star.
So I’m dancing for 31 days. I just bought Zumba for the Wii & have done that a few times. We also have a couple Just Dance titles. And when all else fails, I can always bust a move in the kitchen while I’m preparing dinner. I tune my TV to the SonicTap channels — Flashback/New Wave on 839 is my usual stop — and just boogie away.
And now, all that’s left to do is ask … Would you care to dance?
What are your resolutions/goals for 2012?
In mid-October, I celebrated my 44th birthday. I knew I wasn’t going to get many presents, and that’s not really a big deal for me anymore, but I did want to do a few things to mark the occasion. I have a lot of blessings. I wanted to help a good cause and do something good for my health, so I took part in the High Speed Pursuit at the Prison. And I wanted to do something for myself. One problem I have, though, is that I tend to jump into things without thinking them through. And although sometimes that turns out OK, there have been plenty of times where that has burned me irreparably. So, after 44 years, I decided it was time to get my first tattoo.
Not wanting to rush into it, I put a lot of thought into the design. I didn’t know if I’d ever get another one, so I wanted to include as many “special” elements as possible.
I tried to play it cool. This is me before I left.
 Trying to look cool before I left to get my tattoo The tattoo is on my back, just below my right shoulder. I took a “before” pic to show what it looked like, un-inked.
 Last shot of my skin pre-ink At one point, I did get a little nervous.
 I've had 2 children, one without any drugs, 4 broken bones & numerous sports injuries. How bad can it hurt? I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I have a pretty high pain tolerance. I figured it couldn’t hurt too much, or people wouldn’t keep getting them, right?
So, I headed to Boise in an X-back tank top, during the first snow of the season. As usual, I have the most incredible timing. The guy who did my tattoo is named Rocky. He had been recommended by a friend. When I’d made the appointment, I showed him what I had in mind and he seemed to be in tune with my ideas.
Although it was a very long & tedious, and somewhat painful, process, I’m very happy with the results. The worst part by far was the area near my shoulder blade. Not a lot of meat there. I’m really, really good at taking my pain & mentally putting it somewhere else while I go to my happy place. And Rocky did a good job putting his weight on me in order to displace the pain, much as you do by pulling skin taut when you’re waxing your brows. But that part right at the shoulder blade hurt like hell.
My appointment was at 1. After he made several revisions on the design until it met my satisfaction, he didn’t get started until 2. He did the line work & then took a break. Then he did all the black shading. There was a lot of that. Then we took another break. And then finally he did the color, which I must say is really beautiful. By the time we were done, it was 6:30. But at least it had finally stopped snowing.
Here is the end result:
 The finished tattoo I’m a very traditional girl, but I like to put my own, modern & unique spin on things.
The basis of the design is the claddagh, the Irish symbol for love (heart), loyalty (crown) and friendship (hands). Rocky convinced me to use ‘real’ hands, with fingernails, instead of the traditional hands in gloves that you see in most claddagh designs.
I love baseball, so instead of a red heart, he made it look like a baseball. The stitches were very painstaking and labor-intensive, but he did a great job.
For the crown, he added emeralds, to represent my Irish heritage and the Emerald Isle, and turquoise, which represents my Cherokee heritage.
Rocky also used orange and green, the colors of the Irish flag, for the banners, and he added the flames to give it more dimension. He knew that I hate yellow, so he used a minimal amount on the tips of the flames. It’s just enough to make it look how it’s supposed to look, but when I see it, I don’t think, “Ick, yellow!”
There are two eagle feathers, in shades of turquoise and purple, to represent my two greatest accomplishments: my son Jack and my daughter, Audra. As long as I live, no matter what I do, I will never be able to achieve anything greater than them.
And that number in the middle? It’s my lucky number. Both my children were born on that day. I made a point of putting that number right in the middle of the heart, so that those I love the most will always know where I keep them & what they mean to me. We chose to make the numbers black and orange because I’m a lifelong San Francisco Giants fan.
With every element, I tried to make sure it had a very specific and personal meaning. For example, the first piece of jewelry I ever bought for myself, with my own money, was a turquoise ring, which I still wear & treasure to this day. Because of that, to me, turquoise is a symbol of independence, so I was thrilled when I saw that Rocky had wrapped it around the heart when he did the accent colors. Rocky used a diamond element in the middle of the numbers. Diamonds represent everlasting love, but they correspond to baseball, too.
I have had several compliments on the color. In fact, one of the guys who works out at my gym commented on the color & asked where I had it done. When I told him, he said, “Was it a guy named Rocky? It looks like his work.” He told me that Rocky had done a small piece for him, all black, but after seeing my tattoo, he would go back for something more colorful.
As I mentioned above, I have a lot of blessings. I feel fortunate to have such a unique representation of everything I hold dear permanently inked onto my back. It will be a part of me forever and proudly state who I am, what I believe, and what and whom I hold dear. Rocky did an amazing job tying it all together and although it took a lot longer than I was hoping, I’m really grateful that he took his time and got it right.
After 44 years, I think I just might learn to do that some day.
In August, I agreed to take part in Josie’s Finish What You Started challenge. I know it doesn’t officially end until tomorrow, but I’m going to show you my results today. I have been way too busy to blog lately and you may have thought that I fell off the wagon, but I assure you that is not the case.
I am very proud to say that I am at my lowest weight in a year. And, only a half pound heavier than my lowest weight all of last year. I bounce up and down on the scale, and it can be extremely frustrating, but I know that my “base” weight today is significantly lower than it was a few weeks ago. And, as luck would have it, I’m right in the middle of that “womanly” time of the month as I weigh in today, so who knows … maybe I’ll be even lower in a couple days?
Here’s a shot my daughter took of me this morning:
 Back in my skinny jeans! I didn’t meet all of my goals for the challenge, but I came close.
I’m down 6 pounds.
I lost 3″ off my waist – my goal was 2″. I lost 1/2″ off my thighs – my goal was 1″. I lost 1 1/2″ off my hips. I hadn’t set a goal there, but I’m happy to see the progress.
I’ve made it through 6 rounds of interval training at a “regular” speed. Not just slo-mo’ing it to get through. This is still a struggle, but I can see how far I’ve come.
I got back to counting my steps for a while until my pedometer crapped out. Again. I would really like to find one that is accurate & doesn’t accidentally reset itself because I leaned against the counter or whatever. I went for a 2 mile walk & it told me I’d gone 400 steps. BUT, since I had been wearing it for a while before it crapped out, I’ve been more conscious of my movement each day, and that was the real goal anyway.
And hey, look at this, I’m back in the gym 5 days a week most weeks, instead of 4. That wasn’t part of the original plan, but it’s a nice side effect. I’m pushing myself harder than ever and am confident I have the tools to succeed.
Maybe the best measure of progress is that picture over there – I’m back to wearing the once-dreaded skinny jeans with no sucking in or squeezing. I even put them on out of the dryer & they zipped right up. (OK, I may or may not have done a few knee bends and wiggling to get them comfy straight out of the dryer, but after a few minutes, they felt fine.) It’s been about 2 years since I felt comfortable wearing these & now they’re my “go to” piece when I’m getting dressed. I think clothes are a much better measure than the scale any day, don’t you?
So, there you have it. I’m not exactly where I’d hoped to be, but I feel like I’m on my way. I’ve got better habits & more motivation. Every step along the way is just part of the journey. Losing weight is so much harder now than it was a few years ago, but it’s still do-able. I just have to work harder and be smarter about my choices. My main obstacle remains the fact that I am sedentary for most of the day, due to my job. I can’t type standing up! But I’m much more conscious of my activity level & plan frequent breaks so I can take a few stair laps or do a little yoga. Anything to get moving. It can be easy to get wrapped up in my writing & never move, but that’s what’s killing me, so I’m changing it.
One of my favorite albums to listen to when I’m feeling stressed and frustrated is Theory of a Dead Man’s Scars & Souvenirs. (Yes, I seem to have a thing for angry, horny music, don’t I?) One of the songs, Heaven (Little by Little), has some very meaningful lyrics, and I thought I’d share them with you since they seem to sum things up for me right now:
There’s a little piece of heaven
Right here where you are
The fact that you keep trying
Is what sets you apart.
Help me find the reason
And I’ll help you find the way
To get rid of all your pain
Little by little, day by day
I’m getting there … little by little, day by day. And whatever comes my way, I will continue to do so. I know what I can achieve. And I know it’s going to be challenging. But I will succeed. Little by little. Day by day.
I’ve been pretty slack with the blog lately. I’ve been busy & I get so much spam and so few real comments that it can be hard to stay motivated to keep blogging. But I wanted to tell you about something I did last Saturday, the High Speed Pursuit at the Prison.
I was looking for a way to celebrate my 44th birthday & wanted to do something fun & physical. (Get your mind out of the gutter.) I saw a race that I thought would be perfect. It’s actually a half marathon, but you can also choose 10K, or 5K distances. And it’s held at the state prison. I figured that sounded interesting, and it was being held the Saturday after my birthday. But what really sold me was that the proceeds from the race go toward educational scholarships for survivors of Idaho’s fallen peace officers.
Well, give me a good cause any day & I’m willing to help, especially if it involves kids. But I have a real soft spot for cops. Look at what these guys, and gals, do. They work long hours, protect our neighborhoods, put themselves in dangerous situations, deal with the scum of the earth and comfort the humblest of victims. They see things no one should have to see. They do things no one should have to do. All for our safety. And then we get pissed when one pulls us over to tell us our license plates have expired? How about saying THANK YOU for all they do, risking their lives day in and day out & showing some love?
 All smiles pre-race So I thought this would be a great opportunity to give a little something back. I asked my gym partner, Barb, if she wanted to do it and she said yes. We planned to do the 10K. I knew I’d have to walk it, but I was excited by the challenge. Then, she found out that she wouldn’t be able to participate due to a scheduling conflict. I had asked other friends, and none of them could go. So, I headed out to the prison by myself. Knowing that I’d be out there solo, and given the location, I chose to do the 5K. I was a little disappointed, but I’m glad I chose that. And here’s why:
What I didn’t know was that the terrain was either paved road or rutty country roads, which can be difficult on my ankle. And that the last 40% of the course was uphill. And that by the time the race came around, I’d be battling a sore throat for two days. So all in all, it was a good thing I signed up for the 5K.
There were only a handful of us walking & I started in the back of the pack so that the runners wouldn’t mow me down. I originally wanted to break 45 minutes. I usually do a 5K in about 50 minutes when I’m walking with someone. And that means I’m talking with someone, too, which slows me down. But I enjoy the conversation. I left my timing chip in my pocket and set out on the course. Because I’d been sick, I told myself I’d be happy with 48 minutes. The terrain made it a challenging walk. My hamstrings and glutes were sore for a couple days. And I pushed myself. I finished in 47 minutes. Not the 45 I’d hoped for, but not bad considering I’d been sick for 2 days.
I got some nifty hardware, too.
 I wouldn’t say it was easy, but for a 44-year old broad with a bad ankle, out on rutty, tractor-thrashed country roads, I think I did pretty well. It was just enough challenge that I had to work for it, but not so much challenge that I felt overwhelmed. I gave myself a goal and although I didn’t quite meet it, I came pretty darn close. I think I could’ve done it in 45 minutes had I not been sick. (In fact, I felt like crap and had a fever the next day.)
I have not been keeping up with the reporting for the Finish What You Started challenge the past few weeks. I’ve been working out & eating well, but have been very busy with work & other things & not had as much time to blog. But I am happy to say I am at my lowest weight in a year. You’ll hear more about that when I do my Finish What You Started challenge wrap up in a few days. Here’s some foreshadowing – I didn’t make my goal weight, but I have made good, measurable progress everywhere else.
I plan to continue this tradition of doing a fitness event for my birthday each year. It was a good way to celebrate & I’m always looking for ways to help others. I had to laugh when the director got ready to start the race. He thanked us for making our contributions to the peace officer’s memorial fund, and then told us it’s a little odd to race around a prison, but at least we’d have a “captive” audience. We got a flyover, from a crop duster. I also loved that they didn’t use a traditional starter’s pistol. Instead they used a rifle and then let the prison alarm ring for about 2 minutes. I know my Northern California girl roots will show when I tell you that was HELLA LOUD.
 STAND UP for your FLAG!!! Oh, but I do have one complaint. Maybe I’m old fashioned & out of touch, but I don’t think so. Whenever I go to civic events like a parade or even a ball game, I get increasingly annoyed by people who do not show respect for the flag. My husband has had to pull me away from people at our town’s annual parade because I went off about how they just sat there as Old Glory was marched by. Doesn’t anyone have any respect for our country anymore?
Look at the gals in the camp chairs. You couldn’t lift yer ass up out of those chairs to salute the symbol of your country? Disgraceful. Stand up, put your hand over your heart, and be thankful for those who have sacrificed to give you the freedom to be ignorant.
And as long as I’m on my soap box … parents, please teach your children the proper etiquette. I see so many kids running around when the flag comes by or talking during the national anthem. That is very disrespectful. Our veterans and peace officers deserve better.
OK, enough of that. I’m sure you get my point.
So that’s how I celebrated my birthday this year. I can’t really say I’m looking forward to being 45 in a year’s time, but I am looking forward to another athletic challenge. And who knows–maybe I’ll break that 45 minute mark after all?
I need some help.
My daughter, Audra, is 9 years old. She’s very tall for her age (4′ 10″) & is beginning to mature. She’s very active & loves to jump rope, ride her bike & play on the Wii.
But that’s part of the problem.
Today she used the measuring tape to figure out how tall she is. Then she went into the play room to play on the Wii. Moments later, I heard her crying.
“What’s the matter,” I asked.
What she said broke my heart.
“I put in my height & it still says I’m at risk for being overweight!”
She was devastated, and so was I. Seeing the hurt in her face and those big tears was so difficult for a former athlete & fitness instructor who has struggled with her weight for 24 years.
 My beautiful girl & me I know the Wii will calculate your BMI, and for most people it can serve as a good guideline. But I really question the accuracy of that formula, especially for kids. I won’t disclose her weight, as I feel that’s not fair to her, and more importantly, it’s irrelevant. I will admit that she is not the slender girl she used to be, but I’d say she’s got a long way to go before she falls into the ‘overweight’ category. She’s got that hormonal weight thing going right now. She’s filling out on top and through her waist. Above all, she is what I’d call “normal size.”
We emphasize healthy eating in our home. We designate certain things as “sometimes foods.” She has a wicked sweet tooth & loves fried foods, but she knows that too much of that makes her very ill & she has learned, somewhat reluctantly, to self-regulate. More than once, I’ve heard her say, “I really want that (donut/corn dog/piece of cake), but I know if I eat it I will get sick, so I’m not going to have it.”
Pretty damn mature for 9, if you ask me. I wish I had her willpower some days.
I am very much aware that my struggles with my weight will affect her, just as my mother’s, and sisters’, struggles affected me. I try to emphasize that we eat healthy, but I never say that I’m on a “diet.” It’s extremely important to me that she learns that this is just our way of life, not something we do because we want to get to a smaller size. Health is first and foremost.
So when I saw her tears at being told she was “at risk” for being overweight — not actually overweight, mind you — it overwhelmed me. All of my personal shame, disappointment, loathing, fears, anxiety and frustration manifested themselves and streamed down her face.
I told her, “Audra, I don’t think that’s very accurate. You are exactly the right size for you, and I wouldn’t worry too much about what the Wii says.”
I also told her she was healthy and strong, and that she was not overweight, and that her body was beautiful.
She didn’t really buy that. And, much to my horror, I saw how this could be one little building block in her own tower of body image frustration. Like some of us submit to the daily torture of the scale (sometimes more than once), I could see how easily she could slip into feeling the need for “acceptance” from the Wii. I imagined her weighing herself on the balance board every day, desperately hoping to see the arrow land in the healthy weight category, not at risk for being overweight, or higher. We want that acceptance so badly, yet we never allow ourselves to earn it or enjoy it. I never want her to go through that agony. That daily letdown, feeling like no matter what it says, it’s never good enough. There’s always another pound to lose, another inch to shed, another size to be. We get so critical of our perceived shortcomings that we can’t see the progress we have made.
I wanted to tell her that it was a bunch of bullshit. I wanted to tell her that even though I’m still in that overweight category, I’m healthier now than I was 10 years ago, and 20 years ago. The size of my pants doesn’t even tell half my story. Not so long ago, it was 4 to 5 sizes larger. I’ve come a long way from where I was, leaving behind a diseased gall bladder, shortness of breath, heartburn and joint pain. I can walk farther and longer. I am stronger than ever. I can keep up with my children, who are nearly 31 & 35 years younger than me, respectively. I wanted to tell her that it’s not about some stupid number, but more about how you feel and how your clothes fit.
But she’s 9. She doesn’t understand any of that. All she sees is that critical comment from an electronic device and interprets it as a failure on her part.
What do I tell her?
My blogging pal JenInRealLife is having a tough time right now. She needs to have surgery on her ankle and knee, and can’t work out. And it’s killing her.
Jen’s a regular in my blogging community circle. I read her recent updates and could instantly relate. When I broke my ankle 10 years ago, and then had to wait 2 years for surgery, it was so frustrating to have the will & desire to do something good for my body but be forced to accept my limitations. In the meantime, I gained weight (OK, for about half of that time I was pregnant with Audra, but I gained a LOT more than I should have with that pregnancy). I stress ate. I got winded trying to keep up with Jack, who was 3 at the time. I had to crouch down a lot to get to his level, which was brutal on my busted up ankle. And then I would be exhausted just doing simple tasks because I was so out of shape, putting on more weight, and I felt like there was very little I could do about it.
My heart really went out to Jen yesterday, when she posted, “Someone, go run for me! Please, I’m broken!”
Girl, I’ve been there. I’ve done that. I feel your pain.
So I told her I’d do an hour on the elliptical this morning in her honor. I thought about the treadmill, but chose the elliptical for two reasons. One, my ankle could not be completely repaired after having to wait 2 years, and it still bothers me on long treadmill sessions. (Too much pounding.) I can do it, but then it hurts for 2 days. Two, I knew I’d burn more calories on the elliptical, and Thursday is my scheduled off day, so I wanted to burn as many calories as I could.
The result? See for yourself:
 Got a little sweaty today. In an hour and five minutes, I covered 4.94 miles and burned 690 calories. Be ever so glad this blog is not enhanced with smell. That was a crapload of sweat. I got on the scale before taking a shower and noticed I’d lost nearly a pound and a half since my weigh-in when I got up to go to the gym.
That’s all for you, Jen.
OK, well … some of it is for me.
And Josie.
And Carla.
And Sue.
And all of us real women with jobs and kids and responsibilities who get up each day & choose not to accept our limitations, but focus instead on the CAN, and not the CAN’T.
We are all sisters, and we stand in solidarity with those who can only hobble. Not every day is perfect for any of us. But on any given day, we find inspiration, or comfort, in those who are working toward the same goals. We bond. We commiserate. We share recipes, child rearing tips, my boss/mother-in-law/husband/neighbor is worse than yours horror stories. We laugh. We cry. We lift each other up. We write. And we write. And we write some more.
Isn’t that what a blogging community should be about? I got so tired of reading blogs that were exclusionary, snooty & condescending. There is a “mean girls” element out there at times, but I don’t post something to show the world how much better I am than anyone else. I post my experiences and observations because I feel the need to express that. In my blogging circle, that’s the norm. And if it happens to inspire or educate someone else, than that’s a bonus.
 Stay strong, Jen! Jen, I want to say directly to you, that you’re going to get through this bump in the road to good health. It may seem difficult to imagine right now, but you’ll be better off in the long run. If you had told me 10 years ago, when I had my leg in a cast and I was doing nothing but sitting on my couch every day, that I’d be working out five days a week, doing intervals, lifting weights and maintaining an active lifestyle, I would’ve said you were crazy. Two weeks from today, I’ll turn 44. I’ve had 2 children. I’m in better shape today than I was at 34, and at 24.
I still have a long way to go. But I didn’t make this progress by accepting my limitations and caving in to “I can’t.” I did it by saying, “Yes, I can. And I will.” And I have. It’s never easy. And as you can see by the pictures, it’s not always pretty. But it’s always worth it.
Not bad for an old broad with 2 kids & a busted up ankle, huh?
Hang in there, Jen. We’re all here for you.
Well, last week had a few diversions, some planned, some unexpected. I gave blood Monday, so I didn’t work out on Tuesday. My body just needs that extra time to recover and after a few years of trying to make it work, I’ve found that it’s just not worth the nasty headache I get the next day. My goal was to do an hour of cardio each day I went to the gym, and I did. I just didn’t plan on skipping Friday. But it happened. I woke up at 2 a.m. with an awful sinus headache, and couldn’t get back to sleep. When my alarm went off at 4 a.m., I knew I wasn’t going to the gym. I had a busy day already planned, and couldn’t fit in much of a workout, unless you count running errands. But sleep was a bigger priority.
So, my week was only 3 days of gym, not 4, nor my usual 5. Not great, but I figure I did an hour of cardio each day and worked hard. At least if you can’t go consistently, go hard, right?
I earned 22 stars for Josie’s Finish What You Started challenge. Far from my best, but I guess some weeks are bound to be like that.
One good thing, though, is that I started walking with my daughter Audra every evening. It’s cooling off here and the evenings are really lovely. We walk through our neighborhood, for about 15 minutes. Nothing too strenuous, but it’s a great way to get a little activity in and have a little one on one time with my sweet girl. We talk a lot about fitness and nutrition and how the choices we make affect us. I told her that I buy and cook the food I choose because I don’t want her to struggle like I did. It’s easier to start off with good habits than to learn to break bad ones. I know it’s a long process, but I feel like she’s beginning to understand.
I got back to weight lifting this morning and did 35 minutes on the elliptical. I have a couple errands to do around town tomorrow and will likely walk, assuming the weather cooperates. I don’t mind it being a little cooler, but I do mind walking 2 miles in the rain. So we’ll see how that works out. I’ve also been concentrating on being more active throughout the day. Just taking a few laps through the house between chores, going up and down the stairs, getting up and washing the cars on Sunday instead of taking a nap. All of that seems to be helping. I’m in “girl time” for this month, so the scale’s not really inspiring at the moment, but I was back down to my lowest in quite a while before all that started, so we’ll see how I am at the end of the week.
Umm, we like salmon in this house. A few years ago, I started adding it to our diet once a week to help bring down my husband’s cholesterol. (It worked. Try it.) I like to eat salmon in lots of different ways. One of the easiest ways to make it, and to convince the kids it’s something they’ll like, is salmon burgers. I know my kids will try just about anything in the form of a burger.
 Crispy, golden salmon burgers So here’s what I used for our dinner the other night. Keep in mind I’m not big on measuring anything. Yeah, sorry. That’s just how I cook. I go by taste and sight and texture, and keep tweaking until I’m happy with it.
Salmon & brown rice burgers
3 pouches Chicken of the Sea salmon
1 1/2 – 2 C leftover brown rice
bread crumbs as needed
dried parsley
dried dill
garlic powder
salt
pepper
Mix it all together in a big bowl & form patties. I made 4 & they were very thick. I’m sure I could’ve gotten 6 or maybe even 8 out of the recipe, but I only had 4 buns.
Because these were so thick, I cooked one at a time in a little vegetable oil on the stove, at medium high heat. This is to get a nice crust on each side. When they’ve all been browned, put them in a 350 oven for a little while to help cook them through. The salmon is ready to eat from the pouch, so the cooking is not for safety. It’s just so that the burger is warm throughout and doesn’t fall apart.
I served these on ciabatta rolls, with red onion, tomato & spinach, plus this delicious herb mayonnaise.
 Ready to serve with herb mayonnaise, red onion, tomato & spinach on a ciabatta roll Herb Mayo
Smart Beat Mayonnaise
Squirt of spicy brown mustard
dried parsley
dried dill
paprika
Mix all of that up in a bowl and adjust according to your taste. I used about 3/4 C mayo for the 4 burgers. The paprika was my son Jack’s idea, and it was just what this dish needed.
The brown rice gives this an interesting texture. Do NOT add egg whites; there is plenty of liquid in the salmon & leftover rice. I originally put in a little egg white & had to keep adding bread crumbs to make it workable.
These were extremely filling. I couldn’t finish mine, and neither could my daughter. My husband left a couple bites. My 13 year old son, Boy vs. Food, happily polished off everyone’s leftovers. Good thing we don’t let anything go to waste in this house! The taste reminded me of my mom’s salmon loaf that she made when I was a kid. It was a very budget-friendly meal, using canned salmon and rice. I highly recommend using the salmon in the pouch. It’s a little more costly, but not much, and you don’t have to pick through the meat to remove bones. Well worth the expense, in my opinion.
OK, now you:
What’s your favorite way to use salmon?
Decided to change things up a little in the gym. I’m making progress, but I know my body tends to get “stuck” easily in a routine so I thought I’d try to do one hour of cardio every day I go to the gym this week. I did it last Saturday, using my new workout play list, and walked for an hour on the treadmill.
Monday, I did an hour on the elliptical. Tuesday, I took off since I donated blood on Monday afternoon. I don’t know about you, but it doesn’t seem to matter how much water I drink or how much rest I get, if I work out less than 24 hours after a blood donation, I have a rotten headache and just feel crappy all day. So a few months ago, I decided to just skip the workout the next day and since then I’ve felt a lot better.
Today, I did another hour on the elliptical. Holy hot sweaty mess, Batgirl. I was ready to quit about 10 minutes in, but I kept reminding myself that I get stronger as I go. I was going to take a picture of my shirt, but it was so gross. Completely soaked underneath my bra in the front, and all the way down my spine in the back. By 20 minutes, I was having a hard time & thought of every excuse to quit. But none of them were good enough.
So I kept at it.
I tried to pick up the pace & keep up with the music whenever possible. Never underestimate the power of a good play list, huh? It kept me going when I want to succumb to my ScrewItAll mentality. My reward was burning 615 calories.
I had to laugh at one point, though. My gym partner, Barb, wasn’t there today, so I got on the elliptical by myself. About 15 minutes into my workout, Nice Guy hops on the elliptical to my left. I was really focused on my workout, plus he had his ear buds in, so we never really acknowledged each other. I guess he did 30 minutes and then stopped. He had already done lifting and some ab work, his usual. When he got off, I looked over at him and said, “Quitter,” and then made a face like, “What? That’s all you got?” He just laughed and said, “Wow, look at you. Going hard today, huh?”
Yep. All this week. We’ll see if it makes a difference.
OK, now you:
What do you do to change up your routine?
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