Oh what a mother will do to hang out with her grown children!

My oldest has been going to a workout center named Orange Theory.  Sounds strange, I know.  The name comes from the idea that we need to be in a “zone” of 80% of our heart-rate in order to get the maximum benefit from our workout.

While visiting last month, my oldest convinced my youngest to go workout with her and sort of guilted me into going, too.  I told her  I was afraid that everyone there was going to be young with perfect bodies.

“Oh, no,” she said.  “there are older people and”–then she hesitates–“those that are not in perfect condition.”    That was a good save!

My daughter needs to get her contacts changed–there were no old people there.  Oops, maybe I saw a 40 year old.  Again, not old.

Yes, you guessed it, I think there was one person there who could maybe have lost 15 pounds.  No where near my numbers!

I was fitted for a heart monitor–that should have been my first signal that this was going to be more than I bargained for.  Oh, they give you a free first lesson to entice you into coming.  That is not an enticement.  Give me a piece of chocolate cake if you want to entice me .

Once inside, you can either start on the treadmill or the floor lifting weights.  I started on the treadmill.

All I can say is that Thank Goodness the trainers and staff are really sweet and supportive while they are giving orders like a drill sergeant to increase the pace or increase the incline.

I was red.   My face was red, my neck was red and the screen displaying my colors was RED.  I skipped orange and went straight to RED.

I had to keep up.  There is something in my genetic makeup that if someone tells me to go faster, I go faster.  If they tell me to go higher, I go higher.

Dumb!

Tired!

No, EXHAUSTED!!!

Noooooo, I was  NOT done.  I still had to lift weights and contort my body to make it stronger for another half an hour.

“I’m so proud of you,” both my daughters cheered.

I got news for you.  Moms want their kids to be proud of them, too.

“We have to sign up for this,” my younger daughter said.

I had no problem having her sign up.  More power to her.

“But, mom, you have to sign up with me to encourage me to go.”

I can encourage her from the kitchen table.

Nope, no such luck, I had to GO and encourage her.  We signed up for 8 sessions a month and got the heart monitor–otherwise you can’t see yourself go orange, or in my case,  red.

I have survived three classes.

My muscles are sore.

My knees ache.

And, I am so tired all day long after the session.

But, I feel better.  I feel tighter.  I feel stronger.

So I keep on going to the classes.

Oh, and I was right.  There are only young, thin, people there and me, the old, not thin one.

Today my youngest said that next month she wants to sign up for three sessions a week.

My daughters say they want me to do this for my health.

MY THEORY?

My theory is that my daughters are looking for an early inheritance!

I am not handy.

But Number One believes he can fix anything.

I can read directions.

However,  Number One doesn’t think it is necessary.

So, with these great skills and talents, we decided to don our construction helmets and belts and build a building.

Ok, I will admit that the word building may give a false impression, but we did put together a micro-house, or in layman’s terms, a shed.

Surprisingly, you need strong muscles to put together a micro-house.    You also need the ability to see things from different angles and slants and you need to swivel, contort and twist yourself and the pieces to see how they fit. This is similar to putting together a giant puzzle. Did I mention puzzles are not my thing?

Oh, and one more thing, you need the ability to bounce when you fall.

After snapping these three together Number One thought we were almost done.

The location of a mini-house needs to be on flat, solid ground.  Therefore, the narrow space between the property line and the house was the logical place for it.    The key word is narrow.

To put the sides up, you need to jam them down so they will click into place.  So, while Number One is inside, I am climbing the wall–really climbing a wall– to get a better angle.

I remember the good old days when I could put my foot on a 3 foot wall and just jump up on it.

These are not the good old days.  I got my foot on the wall, but my body  didn’t nimbly jump up.  Number One tried to hold my arm to help, but somehow my arm flexed and flopped at a grotesque  angle.  I want to say that he caught me in his loving arms and saved me.  I only bounced once before he caught me.

Captain Step-stool to the rescue!  (All rescuers need a name.)

Once on top of the wall, I had to battle the Cyprus tree.

It won.

The tree and I did a dance of King of the Hill. Cypress trees have lots of arms and they push in all directions. I grabbed for the branches, then I  lunged for the sides of the shed, but the only thing I made contact with was the sidewalk below.

The next hurdle was the vaulted roof.  Even the instructions, which, of course, I read, said you need a second person to  push or pull down on the roof so it could be attached to the walls.

There was room in some places for me to hang onto the edge of the roof–can you picture me dangling from a roof?

Other places were so squished that I had to climb up that damnable wall, fight King Cypress,  and bear down with all my might.  That fall was a little more controlled.  When you fall so many times, eventually you learn to fall without too much pain.  How do I explain to my chiropractor that my back is contorted because of King Cypress?

We finished our project in one day and under budget.

Why under budget you ask, because my pay was lunch at El Pollo Loco!

Yippee!
I will never do that again!

Now that I am Darth Virginia,–if you don’t get it–look at the previous post, my world is not outer space but under space.

I could never look under the water in a pool because I was afraid of drowning–you know water up the nose, in the mouth and in the ears, and there was no way I was getting my face wet.

So with this very special piece of equipment, I can see what others have seen all their lives.

Do you know your hands create small bubbles when you swim free-style?

When you swim in the morning, the reflection of the sun on the bottom of the pool reminds me of the static machines that allow you to see the arcing electricity.

But in the pool the arcing is magnified and multiplied  a hundred times over.

The lights shimmer, sparkle and undulate with the choppy  waves under the agitated water.

You almost feel as if you are in an underwater disco.

But in the afternoon, it is a totally different scene.Continue reading→

If I can only wait 10 more minutes before I eat, then I will have less day and more food.

Only a dieter can understand that statement.

When your food is rationed–yes rationed, you don’t want to be hungry at the end of the day.

If you finish your food at 6 p.m., what do you do for the rest of the day? We could go to bed, but then the next day you will wake up even earlier and finish your food by 2 p.m.

How do you solve this issue? My great plan was to wait as long as possible before I eat my food.  However, today and unfortunately, more days than I want to admit, those extra minutes often makes things worse.

Today, because I had to take a fasting blood test, I ate my breakfast about 10:30.  I didn’t rush in and nuke my breakfast the minute I got home. I was a little leisurely about preparing my food.

BIG MISTAKE.

The food is in the microwave.  Microwave is next to the pantry–I thought it was free of my trigger foods.

NOPE.

Hidden far back in the nether regions of my pantry I suddenly spiedContinue reading→

Usually, I crave chocolate. But on Jenny, I get my chocolate fix daily, so that is not a problem.

BUT….

Stress = Sugar Cravings

Feeling Overwhelmed = Sugar Cravings

Yes, Saturday and Sunday I was both very stressed and was extremely overwhelmed.

My simple controlled chocolate fix was not working for me.

I craved cookies–no not chocolate chip cookies, but Almond Windmilll Cookies.

What the heck was wrong with me.  I never crave that.  Ok, it was available.  I bought them for my husband who had just had surgery.  These are his favorites and I was trying to spoil him.

ONE POTATO, TWO

2 cookies.  2 more cookies.  I had to have more.  I wasn’t satisfied and I wasn’t full.  3 more cookies, 2 more cookies.  I think that was all, but I could have had even more because I was focusing on feeding an insatiable hunger.  A blind, undefined need,

Finally,  my husband said, “You better stop or aren’t you on your diet now?”

DON’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO

First, smoke billowed from the top of my head.  Then I thought, “Why can’t I have a few cookies?”  Then, “Why does he have to tell me what to do?”  “I can eat whatever I want.”

“No, I am still on my diet, ” I grumbled. ” I am not perfect, I ate something that was not on my diet–the world will not fall apart,” I argued a little too loudly.Continue reading→

Jenny Craig–if you follow it and eat every two to three hours–I have to say–prevents real hunger.  It does not stop the–I am stressed so I have to eat to make me feel better hunger, or the–I’m sitting in front of the tv and I am bored hunger.  And if we are truly honest  with ourselves, we did not get this way because we fed REAL hunger.

However, the other day I got busy doing things and it was closer to four or five hours since breakfast and I really was hungry.  I knew it was real hunger because I was looking at the veggies in the refrigerator–not the sweets in the cupboard.

It was real hunger because I pulled out the jicama (pronounced hick-a-ma).  It had to be peeled and cut.  Yes, I took the time to do it–perhaps it was a five minute job.  Once I cut half of it I had to eat some.

Pixabay Photo

Oh my. YUM!  Yes it tasted so good. It does not have a strong flavor, but it is a refreshing flavor. It has the texture of an apple and the density of an apple so you don’t have to eat much to feel satisfied.

Sorry–if you have stress hunger it will probably have the same effect as carrots and celery, but it is much more filling than celery.  Now I make sure I put it in my salads to help me feel full the healhy way.

Oops, I feel stress hunger coming on.  Can  I tie myself to the chair?  I can’t tie my hands because then I couldn’t type.  Take deep breaths.  See, I am writing about food so my brain is telling me–food yeah–food makes you feel better–much less stressed.   Those two minutes of sweet  bliss is like heroin to us.   The only problem is that high lasts three minutes tops and then guilt kicks in and we  feel stressed again because now we hate ourselves for not staying on track–so the brain tells us to eat and ………..

Quick, take a drink of seltzer water–ahh fizz.  Ok, I am fine now.  That was a close call.

INSTANT GRATIFICATION

I can wait for a lot things.  I don’t need to buy a piece of clothing  the minute that I like it.  I can wait until I have the funds or until I lose weight. I don’t need to see a movie the day it comes out because people say it is a great movie.  I can wait to see it on Pay Per View.

But when it comes to weight loss, I want INSTANT GRATIFICATION!

Yes, in that area I am like the new generation–I WANT IT NOW!!!!!!

I see my goal–which is a huge number by the way–and it just seems impossible.  Also depressing, is that I never buy new clothes because I don’t lose the weight.

The experts tell me to find other ways to show I have succeeded other than weight loss on the scale.

They tell me to notice  how my  clothes feel on me.  They should feel looser, they say.   No, doesn’t work for me, they still feel tight.  I think I was being delusional for a long time  in thinking that my weight wasn’t  that bad.   I will have to lose a lot more for me to notice it in my clothes and besides, I have been wearing these clothes for 15 years, and  because I have lost and gained and lost and gained about a thousand times they are stretched to my size.

I have put a lot of thought in this.  I want to see and feel real progress.

They told me I lost 4 pounds, but I don’t see it, I don’t feel it.

So, I decided I would put one pound stones in a bag for each pound lost.  I have to get a huge number of stones and I really don’t want to take my food scale to the beach to weigh a thousand stones to find 50–lets start there–that weigh exactly one pound.

There has to be an easier way.  So, I head to the pantry, where I always head when I have a dilemma.  But this time I wasn’t searching for snacks.  I was searching for something that weighs exactly one pound.   I thought a can of soup would work–nope–1.02 pounds.  Bummer.  How about some black beans–nope–again 1.02 lb.  Green beans also disappointed me with a 1.01 lb weight.

You know, when you get really desperate for something,  you start pushing food around, hoping there will be a treasure somewhere behind the healthy food.

Yes, I found it!    It was exactly 1.0 POUND!

Exactly 1.0 pound!!

Ok, I found a pound can, but what am I going to do with a million cans of hummus?

Then it hit me.  I will see and feel how much I lost and then when I have reached my goal, I will donate these to a food bank or charity.  I will feel physically, mentally and emotionally good about myself.

Talk to you later, because now I am off to buy lots and lots of alwadi hummus.

Is there a protocol for this?

I’ve been retired for 18 months. That’s long enough to have two babies, but it is long enough to wait before I pack up my business suits?
Is there a magic formula the states when we can pack up our career life? No, I am not regretting my retirement. I am writing this blog from Munich, Germany and this is the second country I visited since the year began, and it is only January 16. So no–you can work–and I can travel.

Going Back?

I loved my job. But I am not going back. That job needs endless energy and even though I have a lot of energy, I don’t have nearly what is needed.
But giving up a symbol of your job, that identifies you as a professional woman, is concerning.

What is my career garb now?

I have a lot of careers going on all at once, I am a writer. I can write in my jammies, or if I want, I can dress up. I am a storyteller. Do storytellers wear suits? Nope–they are much more casual. I am a grandmother four times over. To be a grandmother, you have to wear hats at tea parties, jammies at slumber parties and an apron to protect whatever you are wearing when creating beautifully decorated cupcakes. But there is no place for a business suit.

I did it!

Yes, I packed them up. Classic suits can be worn for many years, and believe me, I had mine for quite a while. I packed them up and got them as far as the garage. I was going to give myself time before I took them to Goodwill, just in case I might suddenly need one of them. But, my husband solved the dilemma. He asked if the bags were going to Goodwill? I told him yes, but I didn’t think he was taking them at that moment!!! So, my suits are gone.

Well almost.

I did save one–just in case of an emergency.

A New Beginning

I am entering a truly new chapter and I am beginning at square one. Twenty, no, make that 5 years, ago if you told me that I would be pushing against tradition, I would not have believed you. Yes, I do what I want, but I am still a traditionalist.

I joined an order that has been around since the mid 15th century. At that time “ladies” would never dream of joining this order, but now it is popular for both genders.

What am I playing?

GOLF

Watching it on TV brought tears of boredom to my eyes, so I never put it on my radar. But, to be fair, I have the same opinion of many sports. I like to play softball, but watching baseball is tortuously and agonizingly slow. It guess I am not a person who likes to sit on the sidelines. Does that sound familiar?

I am eating my words.

I am sorry I ever thought otherwise, but golf IS an exercise. It is a great core exercise, particularly when you hit five baskets of balls on the driving range. I think I might have to pick up yoga. It will help because in order to hold the club, you must push your backside out, bring your arms up with your right arm stuck to your waist, left arm straight and the bottom of the handle aimed at the ball while twisting your body and then shifting your weigh from one leg to the other–it feels like more of a yoga move or maybe better yet a contortionist created this sport.

We are taking lessons–they only way for educators to learn–with friends. After three lessons I can HIT the ball seven out of ten times. Sounds good, right? Well out of those 10 shots maybe one goes the direction that I want and half the distance I need. Well, I gotta start somewhere.

I have a new name for the sport. Gentlemen Odium Ladies’ Fairway. I looked it up, Odium means a general disgust towards someone because of their actions.

It feels good to be a member of this old order, even though the originators are turning over in their graves in horror.

Golden Glow

My eyes are closed, but I see a golden glow beyond my closed eyelids. My eyes peel open and the room seems to be gilded.

As we open the balcony door, brilliant hues sing their color like a chorus reaching a crescendo, as they paint the sky. The gold is streaked with soft rose and blues of royal, azure and turquoise. They sky is an ever changing canvas of different shades and tones of peach, tangerine, coral and a blush of pink.

We are mesmerized and awed by nature’s beauty as we are enveloped in a warm cocoon of color.

By its very nature, sunrise is fleeting, but the peace, contentment and awe endures for many a day.

Energized

Waking up to such beauty energizes you to start the day. I dressed in a hurry and scurried out the door to pick up some items at the store.

An Omen?

On my way back, not an hour had passed since the sunrise, and I thought I glimpsed a rainbow. Were my eyes playing tricks on me because there was no rain in sight and very few clouds? As I topped the hill, I realized my eyes were fine. I could see the two sides of the rainbow. One side was in the front of the house and the other was in the back of the house.

At that point I realized someone was sending us a message. There is so much beauty and goodness and we are surrounded by it every day, but maybe we are so wound up in what we need to do and what is happening in the world, that we don’t really see it.

I am going to see them as good omens for all of us.