Getting back to business....

I arrived home last night around 8:30 pm, and was back in my gym this morning by 8:00 am. It was time to get back to business. I somehow managed to maintain a limited routine while I was away, but I knew I needed to hit the gym as soon as possible, and start the business of getting back to life as usual. The only difference in today's routine and previous routines would be that I had my daughter home to join me as my work-out partner.

The good thing about working out with my daughter is she keeps me smiling throughout the routine. The bad news about working out with my daughter is she is twenty something years younger than me, so her stamina, pace and abilities are at a different level. None the less, she is another skinny girl trying to get healthier, so despite the difference in our ages and abilities, we are still a good match for each other.

We hit the elliptical machines first. I had not been on one for over two weeks, and thought it would be a good way to push myself. Little did I realize it would feel like I was starting all over again. After a short five minutes on my machine I was struggling. I was kicking myself, because I had just told Chelsey we needed to stay on for thirty minutes, and I couldn't imagine how I was possibly going to make it for the full time. I don't know if it was the stress of the past few weeks or simply the fact that I had curtailed my work-outs, but I had definitely lost my stamina. I glanced over at my daughter. She was moving at a pretty swift pace and barely seemed to be breaking a sweat. My instinct was to push myself faster, but instead I started repeating over and over to myself, "Slow and steady wins the race, Slow and steady wins the race.." If I was going to make it to thirty minutes, which seemed to seriously be in doubt, I had to pace myself.

Finally somewhere between the 20 and 24 minute mark, I realized I had stopped struggling and was feeling good. I wasn't focusing on how much longer I had to keep working. I wasn't watching my speed. I wasn't comparing my score board to my daughter's. My endorphins had kicked in. I was going to make my thirty minutes and I was moving faster than a turtle's pace. I smiled happily to myself, and then caught sight of my heart rate flashing at me from the statistic screen. The number 199 was blinking at me. I thought to myself, that can't possibly be right, but somewhere in the back of my mind, I thought to myself, "What if it is?". I looked over at my speed. I was moving along at a 4.2 pace. The prudent part of me decided I had better slow things down again. The machine was probably just wrong, but no need to find out the hard way if it wasn't. So I slowed my pace and my heart rate, but continued to the end of the thirty minutes.

Chelsey hopped off a few minutes after I did, and we headed to the weight section. I had struggled with the elliptical, but I felt right at home with the weights. I even found myself in the instructor role, as Chelsey had never worked out with free weights before. I walked Chelsey through each of the exercises, and pondered to myself how in a few short months, I had reached a point where I felt confident enough in my abilities that I could pass along the benefit of my experience to someone else for a change. Getting back to business, while a little bumpy at first, had proven to be just what I needed to start my weekend. I left the gym a little sore, a little worn out, but feeling happy and satisfied.

"Strolling" with my Nephew...

Today turned out to be rather long. It was divided between work, doctor's appointments, packing up my daughter's dorm room and helping my Mom move out of her office. The packing/moving probably more than qualified as a stand-in for my daily work-out, but I still felt the calling to go for a brisk walk after dinner. I was tired, but knew that a walk would be just what I needed to insure a good night's sleep. Just as I was heading up to throw on my work-out clothes, however, my mother expressed concern that I would be walking by myself after dark.

I wasn't particularly concerned about the idea, but when my noble 6 foot nephew ever so kindly offered to join me, I took him up on his offer.  I didn't really believe I needed the protection, but since I rarely get the chance to spend quality time alone with him, this seemed the perfect opportunity and it would allay any fears my Mother had. I told Brandon to be ready in ten, and I quickly ran upstairs, threw on my work-out clothes and headed down to meet him. 

When I reached the bottom of the stairs, Brandon was waiting for me still in his jeans and flip flops. I pondered his choice of clothing for a moment or two, but ultimately decided he was nineteen years old and capable of making his own choices in work-out clothing. It was a beautiful evening, still a bit warm, but a slight breeze in the air. I set out down the now familiar path, and thanked Brandon for joining me. I knew he was supposed to be meeting friends, and my walk was delaying his departure. Since I knew he had places to go, I told him we would just go for a short three mile walk instead of the four mile route I had been favoring of late. If he was surprised by my comments he hid it well, and we set off down the path at a brisk pace.

We chatted along the way about a multitude of things, and at some point he acknowledged that he had probably chosen the wrong outfit for our excursion. I laughed a little, and pointed out that I knew he probably didn't realize when he offered to join me that I walked that far or at that pace. I was pretty sure he probably assumed we'd just be going for a stroll. 

As we walked along, I thought to myself that I had come along way from a woman who sauntered from place to place to one who had surprised her nineteen year old nephew by the pace she kept. And while the thought pleased me, it was ultimately the conversation and camaraderie we shared on that walk, however, that made my day. Taking time for myself was rewarding, taking time with my nephew was priceless. 

Walking and Catriking....

This past week has been pretty hectic, but despite the events surrounding my trip to Florida, I am still managing to enjoy a little "Fun in the Sun". This is the longest I have been home in several years, and as I have been walking the trails behind my Mom's house, soaking up the sun and cruising through old neighborhoods, I have started remembering the things I truly love about Florida living. Last night I even found myself pondering the idea of moving home again someday.

My friends Heidi and Mark had invited Chelsey and I down for dinner and catriking. The evening started with a short skooter ride to nearby area lined with restaurants and shops. We probably chose one of the unheathier haunts, but the lure of the outside tables and smell of the food beckoned us, so we landed at Graffiti Junction, a chic hamburger bar. You could order just about any combination of specialty burger that you desired, and I chose a blue cheese and mushroom stuffed burger topped with Avocado. In a bid to tell myself I was choosing healthier, I opted for zucchini fries instead of regular fries and gave myself a mental pat on the back, since Heidi had told me they made the second best fries in Orlando. The dinner was everything that it was forecasted to be, and I left with an overly full stomach.  Little did I know the best part of the evening was still ahead of us, and would prove to be the work-out I had not yet had that day.

When we got back to Heidi and Mark's home, they invited us to tour their neighborhood on Catrikes. For those of you unfamiliar with Catrike's, they are actually recumbent tricycles. Mark is a partner in Big Cat HPV with the original designer of the Catrikes, so he easily pulled out four vehicles out of his storage area to accommodate all of us, one Catbike, a two-wheeled recumbent bicycle and three Catrikes. I have never before ridden on one of these vehicles and was slightly intimidated at first. I imagined that the klutz in me would flip it , or somehow manage to run it into something or I would somehow damage this wonderful trike that Mark was being so kind to allow me to use. So I awkwardly climbed on board, listened to Mark's instructions and then set out to follow him on his two wheeler.

Mark

It only took about four feet for me to realize that riding a Catrike was far easier and much more comfortable than a traditional bike. My concern quickly turned to pleasure as I felt the wind in my face as we began winding through the neighborhood. Mark took us through parks, and circular drives. taught us how to make figure eights and take tight corners, and led us on an evening's adventure that provided an amazing work-out without feeling like you were working out. In a week full of ups and downs, it proved to be the highlight and for thirty minutes or more I felt only peace, happiness and joy. I was sold, and knew that somewhere in my future held a Catrike purchase. Thanks Mark for your friendship, and introducing me to your world. For any of you interested in finding out about Catrike's, I've added their link to my favorites section.

I'll just keep walking....

Wednesday morning I received one of those phone calls that set your world spinning. I was on a plane and on my way to Florida within three hours, and spent the next twenty four hours on high alert. Finally at the end of a very long day on Thursday, I sensed that order was being restored, and I could stop, take a breath and relax. So after one of my all time favorite dinners, hamburgers on the grill and sweet potato fries, I felt my body calling out for a little physical exertion. I needed to burn off some dinner, and some stress. I invited my Mom and my daughter to join me, and we set out for an evening walk.

My mother is fortunate to be surrounded by an array of walking trails that weave in and around her neighborhood through thickets of moss covered trees and palmetto plants. It is the perfect place to simply walk or run your troubles away, and that evening I enjoyed walking and chatting sandwiched between my loved ones. I felt some of the stress of the day ease away, and I knew that this would not be the last walk I would take. I had found a healthy escape and I planned to take advantage of it.

So Friday afternoon while my Mom worked and my daughter napped, I decided I would treat myself to another brisk walk around the paths. For some reason I had a scene from Forrest Gump on my mind. "That day, for no particular reason, I decided to go for a little run. So I ran to the end of the road, and when I got there, I thought maybe I'd run to the end of town. And when I got there, I thought maybe I'd just run across Greenbow County. Now I figured since I'd run this far, maybe I'd just run across the great state of Alabama.... I figured since I'd gone this far I might as well just turn back and keep right on going." 


I felt a little like Forrest Gump, as I walked along the paths, soaking in the sun and my surroundings; I just wanted to keep walking. I knew that life would call me back, but for a short time I could simply lose myself in the beauty of the day, the whisper of the trees, and the physicality of my actions. As I rounded the last last curve of the trail leading back to my Mom's house, I glanced down to see a chalk drawing. My mother had seen the drawing the day before, but somehow I had missed it. "Everything is good now" it said. And I thought to myself, it was, at that moment, at the end of my walk.

Mind, Body and Soul....

Park Lake Presbyterian,  My first Church home

My husband and I met while I was in high school and he was in college. He was one of the chaperones for a Church Youth Group trip that I went on to the Bahamas. Church and youth group were an important part of my life in high school. After I was married and began moving around with the military, we made it a point to try and find a church home in the various duty stations that we were assigned to. Some places we were successful, and other places, not as successful. When we moved to Washington DC, we were not so successful. I was very ill, so we didn't begin a quest to find a church until sometime after moving here, and once we set out on the task, we didn't seem to find that special connection that kept us going with any regularity.

Truth be told, I have never believed that the only way to God was through Church. Don't get me wrong, I have a strong faith. There is not a decision I make that I don't seek guidance through prayer, there is not a blessing I receive that I don't thank the lord, and there is not a problem I encounter, that I don't ultimately put in God's hands. I just simply believe that my relationship with God is not about the number of times I attend church, but about the relationship I build with him through prayer, introspection and the Bible. If I am honest with myself though, I haven't been tending that relationship as well as I can lately, and one thing a church can do, if it is the right one, is enhance the relationship you have with God, help you with your introspection and clarify the murky areas. I've been missing that piece in my life lately.

Writing in my blog has certainly made me much more introspective and I believe my quest calls me to focus on mind, body and soul.  So this past Sunday my husband and I set out on our search again for our church home. It will be a quest within a quest, but to live fit, I think I need to be healthier in all parts of my life.

Revisiting the desk....

I was reading my Yahoo daily news on-line today, as I do nearly everyday when I stumbled across an article that spoke to me. http://health.yahoo.net/experts/menshealth/most-dangerous-thing-youll-do-all-day Apparently when I wrote my piece "Riding the Desk", I was on to something. The statistics in this commentary are pretty scary, but if you are a slave to a desk, as I tend to be, you can recognize the truth in everything the author is saying.



Harley Days

Prior to taking on the job I have been doing for the last seven years, I worked as a Manager at the local Harley Davidson store. I was on my feet all day, and am sure if I had worn a pedometer, I would have clocked multiple miles a day simply from crossing back and forth across the store. When I moved to my new position, I initially worked from home, so while I was definitely sitting more than in my previous position, I was still up and down as I multi-tasked throughout the day.. Even so I probably gained about five pounds just from reducing my activity levels, and started having problems with my lower back as well.Three years ago, I moved from my home into an office just down the street. That is when I truly began to "ride the desk". I probably gained another five pounds and took on a more curvy silhouette, and while I was still not heavy, I had a trouble area, my belly, which to me seemed to protrude more that I was comfortable with. More noticably; however, I started having more and more problems with my back.

Curvier

So as I read through the attached article, I could see myself in the descriptions, and it concerned me. If what the author says is true, exercise alone isn't enough to combat the problems that occur the more and more we sit. My husband is living proof of that. He has always been a fitness nut, regularly maintaining a PT schedule even after he retired from the military to a consulting position. However, now that he is forced to remain sedentary for much of the day, he is finding it more of a challenge to maintain his weight.

Today

What does this mean to me? While I think I've been on the right track with my three daily fitness breaks, according to this article, I still need to be doing more, and that is why I am writing a second posting on the subject.I am going to try to start putting some of these ideas into practice, and simply insure I am standing a little more throughout the day. While I know the author was not speaking about me specifically, he was certainly speaking to me when he said, "Stop trying to be fit, and start trying to live fit." I started this journey to "live fit", and part of that journey is going to be learning exactly what that means through reading articles like this one. Today I confirmed I am on the right track, but I can still do better.







A different Kind of Work-out...

Yesterday, we moved our oldest daughter into her first apartment, and truly joined the ranks of empty nesters. The funny thing is that I have considered myself an empty nester for some time. Charlie's schedule has been so full that she has been around very little, mostly for sleeping. So while I knew this day was coming, I was unprepared for the emotions that came with it. I imagined I already knew what it felt like, and then I woke up yesterday morning and was struck with an overwhelming conflict of emotions...incredible happiness for my daughter who has overcome so many odds to reach a point where she was ready to move out on her own, and overwhelming sadness at the realization that she would no longer be only two floors away at some point during the day.

One of several walls I painted

So as I struggled throughout the morning to keep my tears at bay, I knew I was not in the frame of mind to make it to the gym, and decided the only way to combat the turmoil was to dive right in and help. Charlie had the unlucky or lucky happenstance to end up having to work on moving day, so Rob, her boyfriend, Chuck and myself took on the tasks of moving her out of our house, moving her into their new apartment and as an added task, painting her living area and bedroom. We started our day around 830 in the morning and ended the day at 845 in the evening. We had all of the furniture and boxes moved into the apartment by about 430, but the white walls were calling for some color, and as experienced movers, we knew it was easier to paint while everything was still in boxes and safely out of the way.

Charlie helping after work

It is a testament to my efforts these past months, that I was able to take an active role in both the move and the painting. In the past, I have usually been banned from lifting things for fear of throwing out my back and while we have painted many of the rooms in our home, it has almost primarily been Chuck who did the painting. My part in the process was to pick the colors and point out any areas that needed attention. But this time, I helped tote boxes and lightweight furniture, and when it came time to paint, Rob and I took on rolling the walls while Chuck took care of the edges.

Charlie and Rob

By the time we finished the last wall, I had no qualms that I had not made it to the gym that day. I knew that I had gotten the best work-out I had had all week. I had lifted, pulled, dragged, walked and painted. Every muscle was feeling it, but I was also feeling pleasantly relaxed again. I could see the joy on my daughter's face as she surveyed her new home. She was in love with a wonderful young man, they were beginning their life together, and I was well enough to help them get started. It had turned out to be a great day after all.

Glazed Donuts...

Heidi

Yesterday morning I received a call from one of my oldest friends. We met each other in middle school and have remained friends ever since. The beauty of our friendship is we place no demands on each other. We'll talk every day for several weeks and then not again for several months, but we both know that no matter how long a span of time passes between conversations or visits, we are only a text away.

 We've been talking pretty regularly these past few weeks. I've been been doing most of the talking and she most of the listening, but this morning was a little different. After I updated her on what was going on with me, she shared some of the difficulties she has been dealing with this past week. It felt good to be on the listening side this time. As the conversation wound down, she told me she had one more thing to share. The real reason she had picked up the phone and called me was that she had been driving back to her house after a frustrating morning when she saw the Krispy Kreme store looming in the foreground with warm glazed donuts beckoning her. So instead of giving up to the urge to pull over, she decided to call me instead. Heidi has been one of my regular village supporters, and this time she was turning to me to return the favor. I laughed, as I recounted my unsuccessful adventures with food this week. I told her I had not been nearly as strong as she, so I was doubly impressed with her creative strategy.

As I hung up the phone with a smile still on my face, I thought to myself how a simple conversation with a friend can calm both the mind and the body  and was a far better prescription than glazed donuts or peanut butter eggs. So as a thank you to my dear friend, and hopefully to help in a small way, I wanted to share her link to her fundraising sight for Libby's Legacy and their Hooter's for Skooter's Ride on April 16 in Orlando Florida. I have written about Libby's Legacy and all they are doing to help fight Breast Cancer in my previous posting entitled "Remembering a Friend". Please help Heidi reach her goal and support a worthy cause in the process.  http://www.scooters4hooters.com/fundraising.php?id=134

I'm Still Here....

I just returned from a business trip to NJ, and I've been carrying around some blog guilt. The good news is I've been keeping up with my fitness routine; the bad news is between the personal and professional things going on in my life right now, I just haven't been able to make a daily posting.

One of the things I've determined this past week, is that while I have never thought of myself as a stress eater, and in fact, tended to lose my appetite when I was under a cloud, my habits seemed to have changed. The past several days, I haven't managed to walk by a dessert, and my road trip choices have been beyond questionable.

So on the four hour ride home, I had time to ponder my steps backward in the eating department, and I came to the realization that in times of stress, I crave those same comfort foods that I have spent most of my life indulging in...french fries, chocolates, cokes and burgers. And while my mantra has been moderation, I am far from moderate when it comes to my eating habits if I am the least bit stressed.

The question now becomes, "How do I find a moderate position moving ahead?", and the answer is I really don't know. I don't foresee a reduction in my current stress levels for the next few weeks, so I'm going to have to work harder to stay on top of my game. I do know that once I acknowledged my missteps to myself this afternoon, I was able to turn down the offer of one of my past favorite snacks....Tandy Cakes (a delicious concoction of peanut butter, cake and chocolate), and instead contented myself with a few peanut butter crackers. So maybe the answer is as simple as mentally shaking myself from time to time. And that of course is why I need my blog. It helps to focus and clarify my choices. It provides a gentle voice whispering in my ear when I start straying from my path. So for anyone wondering about my commitment or lack there of, I'm still here, I'm just facing a few more challenges this month. Hopefully my village will stick with me; my journey isn't close to being over.

The Hexagonal Yellow Ball....

Today God smiled on Northern Virginia. The air was warm and breezy, the sky was a beautiful blue, the trees were in blossom and Dumfries sparkled. It was the perfect spring day beckoning everyone to take a walk outside. So instead of heading to the gym after work, I headed home, put on my sneakers and stepped out of my door to try and soak up some of the glory. Perhaps if I was lucky, I would walk away some if the stresses from the day as well.

Apparently I wasn't the only person with the same idea. As I made my way through the neighborhood, there were people in their yards working, couples out with their dogs for their evening strolls, children playing in their yards while their parents sat nearby on their porches keeping watch over them. The sounds of spring were in the air, and I found myself buoyed through my walk by the activity around me. 

I passed by one yard where a group of children at play caught my attention. There were three of them playing with a large inflatable hexagonally shaped yellow ball that had a cubby inside it of it large enough for one of the children to fit inside. Two of the children were rolling the ball across the lawn while the third child inside was squealing with both delight and concern as the ball shifted haphazardly across the lawn. It occurred to me as I watched them play that their game was mimicking my day, only I was the little girl in the ball and the events of the day were the children shifting me across the uneven terrain. Some of the shifts brought squeals of delight while others wrought moments of concern, but just like the child tucked safely inside the inflatable cocoon, I was securely insulated by my faith. 

So as I continued on my walk, I felt the stresses of the past few day seep slowly away. I was surrounded by my own hexagonal bubble of friends, family and God, and I knew whatever bumps might suddenly appear, I had a buffer in place to help with the impact. 

Families are Complicated

Families are complicated. We love them, we hate them, we cling to them, we run away from them, we want to please them, we want to tell them to stuff it. If I am honest, I would have to say that my relationship with my mother has almost always been easy, but my relationship with my father typically has been more of a challenge. My Dad wasn't able to be present much when I was younger. He was an active duty military officer, so he was deployed multiple times to Vietnam and other far away locations. In my early  years he also was an alcoholic. Finally when I reached High School, my father joined AA, took his life back, and has been sober ever since. I have always been proud of him for fighting those demons and overcoming them. 

When my dad was drinking he really was not able to forge a relationship, but once he became sober, he tried his best to reach out to both me and my brother, but for a multitude of reasons, we still always struggled to find that easy place between us. In addition, my Dad has been remarried since I was a Senior in high school. Step relationships I think can prove to be even more complicated than blood relationships. We are both vying for our place in our loved one's life, and that seems to create differences simply by virtue of the relationship. To add to the dynamics, because I am by nature a pleaser, I often found myself reverting to someone not so familiar to me in an effort to try to be the person I perceived that my dad or step mom expected of me. It has taken me 46 years to realize that my perception and their actual expectations have probably always been two very different things. 

So something new happened this visit. After my initial pre-visit whirlwind, I decided to let go of the worries, and just be myself. The interesting thing is by taking that approach, I did not feel the weight anymore of those perceived expectations. Instead I was able to truly enjoy our time together. I could view our relationship from a place not defined by hurt. I could look back a little more clearly and see the points in the past where I had let the relationships down as opposed to simply those points I felt perhaps my Dad or my Step Mom had somehow disappointed me. The reality is when a relationship isn't working well it is never just one side's fault. I came to the realization that what is truly important is the relationship we can have today. Moving forward our interactions don't have to be defined by that "stuff"....past hurts, disappointments or missed expectations.So this week in my quest to get healthy, I think perhaps I just took a really big step.... I let go of the old baggage and instead decided to work on new beginnings. I feel excited about the possibilities, because despite the unease at times, I love my family very much and I am looking forward to more great visits ahead.