Mindless Eating - at a Whole New Level

We've talked about mindless eating and how we should be careful not to do it.  This morning I blogged about resolving to make good choices, and so I have.  All day.  However, I did mindlessly eat once.  Keep reading.

I was at work, finishing up the latest schedule for liturgical ministers.  It was my first time using this particular software and it's not very user-friendly.  I had to really concentrate.  It was lunchtime and I got two peeled, hard-boiled eggs out of my lunch bag.  I ate one while I worked.

Then a church member came in and started talking to me.  I conversed with him while continuing to work.

After he left, I reached for the second egg.  It was gone!  What?

Talk about mindless eating... I have absolutely NO recollection of picking up that egg and eating it.  It's like I was in the Twilight zone.

At least it was planned and nutritious, but it's a reminder of just how easy it is to put food in one's mouth without thinking about it.  Whatever is our plan for the day, it's probably a good idea to portion it out so we don't accidentally wind up eating more.  I wonder what else I might have consumed had it been sitting in front of me during my conversation.  I'm glad it was just a single egg!

The Power of One Decision

Yesterday I was looking through the SparkPeople Community Feed and there was a post from a 20-something woman who has lost 201 pounds in 15 months.  I looked at her SparkPage where she suggests checking out her YouTube channel which details her weight loss journey.

I watched her one-year video entry, made in early January.  A few comments jumped out at me.

"Wishing it isn't going to make it happen."

"Be the change that you want."

She asks if we believe that one year can make a difference.  How about one month?  How about one decision?

Right before I watched that video, I had made a poor decision, diet-wise.  I was at home, studying for a test, and I suddenly craved sugar.  Lunch was only 45 minutes away, at best.  Instead of simply waiting for lunch and eating something healthy, I ate a toaster pastry (an organic one, but still - 200 calories of something my body didn't really need.)

I realize that when you're 357 or 558 pounds, you probably don't want to hear a 122-pound woman lament her bad choices.  However, remember, it's all relative.  I don't fit in my pants.  Either I have to buy new pants and forget about wearing that blue dress I bought for my upcoming performance, or I have GOT to carefully consider every decision I make.  Every decision adds up to have either a positive or negative effect on my body.  If I don't change my ways, I'll eventually be buying bigger and bigger clothes until I've got a lot more to lose.

I need to control myself now so I don't get to a point where I have to make even more and more good decisions to reach my goal.  I wrote about this very thing a couple of weeks ago in "The Long Haul."  Right now, I have a short haul.  A mini haul, really.  Even a 5-pound loss would probably do it.

Whether you're in it for a mini, short, or long haul, let's all remember the power of each decision, and make sure the good ones outweigh the bad ones.

Here's the video that inspired me.  Her Spark handle is XOAmandaDawn.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jtYJMP2ItS0

Never Give Up! A Race Report.

I've been a runner for 15 years, but in recent years I've run less and less.  Even though in my head I know I'll always enjoy running just for the sake of running, it's become easier and easier to make excuses and not get out there.  I realized I needed some kind of a goal to give myself new motivation.  So I challenged myself to enter the local Roadrunners' Race Series.  There are 7 races over the next 4 and a half months, ranging in distance from 5K to a half marathon.  Runners accumulate points based on the quality of their performance and awards are given out at the end.  I haven't raced much at all in the last few years, so this was a big commitment for me.

Yesterday (Saturday) was a 4-miler, the second race in the series.  I had a bit of a rough week and was feeling a bit "blah" about the race.  It was a gray, rainy day, and it was tempting to stay home.  But in the end, I went.  About 12 minutes before the start of the race, my cell phone rang and it was my mother informing me that my grandmother died that morning.  For a few minutes I felt very sad.  It made me wonder what I was doing there, standing around in the rain, waiting to bust my butt and run hard at my age.

However, I suddenly resolved that I was going to TURN THIS DAY AROUND.  I was not going to give up.  I was going to run hard like I planned and see what I could do, and whatever that turned out to be would be fine.

When I run, I tend to measure my perceived rate of exertion by my breathing, which I coordinate with my footsteps.  If I breathe in 4 steps, and out 4 steps, that's a comfortable pace.  If I breathe 3-3, that's a little harder, but still somewhat comfortable.  If I breathe in 3 and out 2, that's what I'd call "comfortably hard."  Breathing 2-2, I'm working pretty hard but I can usually hold that level of exertion for up to 10 kilometers.

Normally, I start out any race at 3-3 because it takes me some time to warm up and feel good.  Today I jumped right to 2-2.  A half mile in, I was running at an 8:16/mile pace.  Slowly, I passed other women ahead of me.  About a mile in, the route turned to a long uphill.  I shortened my stride but kept the turnover rate and breathing the same.  (Hint:  that's the way to climb hills.  Shorten your stride.  It helps a lot!)  At the 2 mile mark, we turned around.  Yay!  Downhill for all of mile 3!  Downhills are my strength, as my quadriceps are freakishly strong compared to the rest of my leg muscles.  Usually I can pull away from people on long downhills.

So imagine my surprise when at mile 3, I was passed by a woman I hadn't seen before.  Where did she come from?  As she went by, I could tell she was younger than I am, and my first instinct was, "Let her go.  Give it up.  You can't possibly keep up with her."

But then I thought, "Why should I give up?  What if I *can* keep up with her?  I may feel tired but I don't feel bad.  I'm going to see how long I can hang with her."

I stayed about 10 feet behind her and then to my surprise, slowly started getting closer.  With about a half mile to go, I passed her.  She said something positive to me like, "You're doing great" to which I responded something like, "Thanks, I don't know if I can keep it up."  She encouraged me again.

I could hear her on my heels that last half mile and with maybe less than a tenth of a mile to go, she kicked it into high gear and flew by me, crossing the finish line ahead of me.  That was fine with me - I had nothing left in the tank to give and she was a great competitor.  I thanked her afterward for inspiring me to try harder at the end when I was thinking of giving up.  It turned out she's 22 years old - just a year older than my son.  It felt pretty good to know I can still keep up with the young ones.

When they gave out awards, I got a huge surprise.
First place Masters Female (that means over the age of 40)

I was the 5th woman overall and 1st out of 43 women over the age of 40.  I ran a 32:18, for a 8:05/mile pace.  The next woman over 40 was merely 45 seconds behind me.  I suppose if she had passed me, in the grand scheme of things, it would not have been a big deal.  I would have been happy for her.  However, I am so thankful that 22-year-old passed me and kept me focused on my goal and working to the best of my ability.  Today the best of my ability was enough to win.  Maybe another day it won't be, but it is always satisfying to know I gave it my all.

It's very easy to set goals from the comfort of the living room.  When I decided to enter the race series, I didn't fully appreciate just how hard it was going to be.  Life does all it can to get in the way, doesn't it?  A busy schedule, an injury, an illness... any unforeseen circumstance can wreak havoc on our plan.  And even when you're in the middle of it - like I was in the 4-miler - it's easy to just say, "Eh, what does it really matter?  I can just coast along and it's fine."

I think I am going to keep this trophy where I will see it every day to remind me that no matter what I'm doing at the time, to try my best and give it my all.  

Explore Your Limits

On Easter afternoon, I offered to take my daughter hiking to a popular spot just off the Blue Ridge Parkway called The Devil's Marbleyard.

It's a little over a mile hike up to the Marbleyard.  If you're in reasonably good shape, the hike is not bad at all.  Once you get to the Marbleyard, however, it's no longer a hike.  It's a "scramble" up the boulders.  However, "scramble" is a relative term.  For someone like me, who doesn't like climbing or unsure footing, this was a real test of my limits.

My daughter has always been a climber and just bloop, bloop, bloop, scampered up the rocks.  She had to keep waiting for me.  I probably looked like a strange creature as I slowly, methodically crawled/hauled myself up, using my arms and legs and sometimes even my rear end.  Once I caught up to my daughter, off she'd go again, often on just two legs.

After a good 30-45 minutes (I'm guessing) of climbing, I realized my arms were starting to ache a bit.  Since I have a concert in a month and I've just recovered from a stress fracture and tendinitis, I knew I had reached my limit.  However, my daughter was doing great and I knew she wanted to get to the top for the breathtaking view.

It was hard to let my 15-year-old daughter continue to climb on her own, but I did.  She was out of my sight for quite a while, but she texted me from time to time to let me know she was fine.  There were a few other climbers there, so it was good to know she wasn't alone up there.  Plus, I figured at her age, she is probably just as capable as I am - or even more so - of taking care of herself.  She knew to choose her route carefully and to keep an eye out for snakes.

Everyone's got their limits.

My grandmother would never have even taken my mother to the Marbleyard.  In my mind, I could hear her saying to me, "Have you got brains????"

My mother would have hiked to the Marbleyard with me, but I doubt would have ever scrambled up the boulders.  And I *really* doubt she would have let me go on alone, especially in the pre-digital age.

I continued to push our family's limits by taking my daughter there and going as far as I could.  I recognized my own limit but allowed my daughter to find hers.  I am really proud that she made it to the top.  That girl's got real potential to do anything she wants, and I can't wait to see where life takes her.

May we all continue to explore our limits and reach our full potential!

Here's a few pictures.  The first one is where I stopped about a third of the way up.  If you look carefully, you can see my daughter a little above the center of the picture, wearing a blue shirt.

Here's the selfie she took from the top.

The Devil's Marbleyard

If you check out this link, it will take you to AllTrails.com where you will see a map and many pictures.  The pictures do not do it justice.  You cannot imagine the size of the boulders and the hillside.  If you ever visit the Natural Bridge area of Blue Ridge Mountains and you enjoy a good climb, this is definitely one of those "must-do" hikes with a big payoff at the end.  I just wouldn't recommend it during or after a rain, as the rocks can be quite slippery.  I am sure I will try it again sometime!

The Long Haul

Last night, April 12th, was a milestone day for our family.  Our second son officially became an Eagle Scout.  Here he is with my husband.

He's a senior in high school and has been in scouting since the first grade.  That's twelve years, moving through the ranks all the way from Tiger to Eagle.

I remember the day when, out of the blue, he told me he wanted to do that.  He was about 8 or 9 years old.  I'm not sure he really had any idea how much work that would be, but I did.  I saw all those "big boys" in the Boy Scout troop and I could hardly envision my little boy as a young man with all the skills that they had.  His father and I both understood what a huge accomplishment Eagle is and how it can open a lot of doors for these young men down the road.  So, we did everything we could to encourage him.

The journey wasn't always smooth.  One reason why only 4 percent of scouts ever attain Eagle rank is because in their teen years, they discover the "3 Gs."  Gas, Green, and Girls.  My son was no different.  There were times that we had to stay on him and remind him of his goal.  There were times where he didn't seem to care too much if he became an Eagle, and so it was up to us, his parents who love him, to help him see that he was already so close and he had to keep going.  We knew if he didn't finish, one day he'd be kicking himself.

I remember one time in particular - saying, "Look, we've got a few different scenarios."

1. We nag you.  You resent us now, but later on you'll thank us.
2. We do nothing.  You don't get Eagle, and for the rest of your life, you'll ask us, "I was so close!  Why didn't you push me to finish?"

I told him neither of those scenarios was too appealing to us, as we'd come out as the bad guys either way.  So I presented him with a third "winning" scenario:

You decide you want it, and you do it, and everyone is happy.

It's not only hard for children and teenagers to see the big picture and stay motivated.  It's hard for all of us.  I've stalled in my weight loss journey because I've become complacent.  I think to myself, "Oh, I look pretty good.  I'm at a perfectly healthy weight."  However, the reality is most of my pants still don't fit.  The reality is if I had been more careful about my diet the past four months, I'd be at my goal right now and wouldn't be kicking myself.

I have to practice what I preached to my son that day.  I have to decide I want it... and just do it!

My son reached the summit of what was a very long haul - 12 years of working toward a goal.  My weight loss should take me what... 2-3 months, tops?  Compared to him, that's a mini haul!  Certainly I can do it.

I will have to share this blog entry with my Eagle Scout.  He has recently gotten into weightlifting and fitness, so I am sure that he will be glad to turn the tables and help me stay on track.  What teen wouldn't enjoy the chance to (rightly) nag their mother?  However, I hope that I, like my son, can choose "Winning Scenario Number 3" and achieve my goal with happiness and pride all the way around.

An Unexpected Easter Egg Hunt!

I struggled a bit with motivation getting out to run today, but about 4 PM, I finally got in the car and drove over to the elementary school to walk and run around the track.  As I was walking my warmup, something in the grass caught my eye.  It was an Easter egg.  I picked it up.  Then I noticed another.  I picked it up, too.  Then another, and another...

Soon I had six plastic Easter eggs.  As I walked back to my car with these eggs, I noticed a small pile of open, empty Easter eggs under a bench.  I figured that since yesterday (Friday) was the last day of school before Spring Break, the elementary school must have held an Easter egg hunt and these were the ones that the kids missed.  I grabbed a grocery bag out of my trunk before heading back over to the track, in case there were any more.  I mean, hey, the sun was only going to melt the candy inside, right?  And the first time a mower hit them, what a mess of plastic pieces that would be!

Every time I circled the track, I found a few more eggs.  Most of them were at the edge of the track on the far side of the field, and a few were by the marching band's equipment trailer (again, far from the school.)  I felt just like a six-year-old.  It was so much fun wondering if I might find just one more treasure!

I can't remember when I last had that much fun walking a warmup.  The fun feeling lasted throughout my 6-mile run, as you can see.  May we always exercise with the enthusiasm and energy of a child at an Easter Egg Hunt!

Go for It!!

I did some further reflection after writing my blog post "You Were SHY?"

We often hear the phrase, "Go for it!"

My mother, who many of you know as Brooklyn_Born, has never been too shy to "go for it" - whatever it was.  I am fortunate to have grown up with her example and wisdom.

I thought I'd share a fun side story about that 1982 piano competition - just one example of how BB was a role model in not giving up in a difficult circumstance and instead going after what you need.

After I found out I had made the finals and was going to play with the Cincinnati Symphony the following night, my mother realized I needed a long dress.  The next morning, we left the hotel and got in the car to go shopping.  

Our 1970 Ford Falcon broke down on the freeway.  We walked to a gas station at the nearest exit.  Remember, in those days, they actually fixed cars at these places.  Mom arranged for a tow truck.  Of course, the car wouldn't be fixed for many hours.  She told the man of our predicament - I had to be at the music hall downtown to meet with the conductor, and then rehearse with the orchestra in the afternoon, and perform with the symphony that night... and I needed a dress to wear, and how on earth were we going to get all that done without a car?

A kind woman overheard her and offered to drive us everywhere.  She drove us to a local mall and we went to Sears.  Only thing was - Sears wasn't open yet.  We were pressed for time because I had to get to that meeting. 

Did Brooklyn_Born give up?  No way.  She banged on the door of Sears until security came.  She explained everything to them and the store manager.

Sears opened the store early for us.  Amazingly, they had long gowns for a tiny, 70-pound 12-year-old, and we bought one.

The woman drove us to the music hall and I met with the conductor.  I don't remember any details of the day after that, but at some point we must have gone back to our hotel because I remember BB had a duffel bag of dirty laundry with her at the concert.  You might wonder why she would take such a thing to a classical concert/competition at a fancy music hall.  It was because recording was not allowed.  The symphony wasn't going to record it and provide a copy, either for purchase or for free.  Not being content to have this milestone moment live solely in our memories, my mother sneaked a tape recorder into the hall in that bag of dirty laundry.

This morning, Brooklyn is running a 5k race about 90 minutes from her home.  My husband & I ate dinner with her, my dad, and some old family friends last night and she made sure to order pasta.  Her friend asked why that was important, and she said, "Because I'm racing tomorrow and I want to WIN!"  She knows what she wants and does whatever she can to make it happen.  So, here's hoping that 5K race goes well for her.

Do you have any plans to "go for it" today?

That Special Person

I have a confession related to my last blog ("I Chucked It.") I never did go for that extra walk. But wait - let me explain! I had a good reason.

A few days prior, I received the CD of the performance of my children's youth orchestra concert. My son is principal trumpet and my daughter is 3rd trumpet. The pieces featured the brass quite a lot - to name a few - "Apollo 13," "Finlandia," "Phantom of the Opera," and "The Empire Strikes Back." I helped out in the percussion section and got to play crash cymbals on Empire. How cool is that??

I have been listening to that CD over and over and over. In general, music brings out strong emotions in me and touches the depths of my soul. When I or someone I love is making the music, that feeling is magnified 10 times.

The CD was playing while I typed my blog 2 days ago. All the emotions suddenly reminded me of my own youth orchestra experience as a girl. I played the bass. Yep, the big, tall, stand-up double bass. I was a tiny child and it was rather comical to see. I was a decent player, and as there is always a shortage of child bassists anywhere you go, I got a lot of opportunities to play with orchestras at a younger age than I normally would have. I was exposed to a lot of incredible orchestral repertoire and my love for it has never faded. In college, I went on to play piccolo and flute with a regional symphony orchestra, and now I feel so lucky to play in the percussion section of my kids' orchestra.

All of this is because of one special person - the strings teacher who taught me to play the bass back in elementary school. He was a bass player himself. He taught us as a group - we had a few violin players and then there was me on the bass. I guess he thought I had potential because he gave me additional private lessons, free of charge, before school. He made sure my parents knew about orchestral opportunities in the community.

I am very grateful to this man. I googled his name and I found him, along with his address and phone number.

Instead of going for a walk, I pulled a blank card out of the cabinet and wrote him a note expressing my gratitude.

I'm sure my teacher didn't dedicate his life to teaching music because he expected any thanks from his students. He did it because he loved it and believed that he was making a difference in people's lives. I'm glad I sent a note to him affirming that was true.

Here's a few pictures of the concert.

The whole group:

My 2 favorite trumpet players in the whole world:

I told you I'm tiny... well, here I am playing 20-inch crash cymbals for "The Empire Strikes Back"

I'm sure everyone here can point to various people who, in a unique way, made a difference in their own life. Without my strings teacher, my orchestral experience might have been limited to being a piano soloist. There are several people - both in music and in other fields - who had a tremendous impact determining my life's direction. I have lost touch with some of them. Thanks to the Internet and Social Media, I hope I can one day reconnect and express my gratitude.