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The Only Non-School Book I’ve Read in Months.

By on September 27, 2012 in The Couch Potato, The Runner

I have a list of books that I want to read. I want to read them based on y’all, because y’all are a literary kind of people who actually read books and then remark about how awesome they are. Books like Gone Girl and In the Woods and the sequels to Graceling. (I actually read Graceling! While stuck in Austin airport.) I want to read all of these books, and actually even have most of them in my Kindle queue.

But .. time, it is a rarity.

For my birthday, Bryan and I took a roadtrip for an evening and while we were strolling in a Barnes & Noble (waiting for Cheesecake Factory to open, honestly), and I noticed a book. It would be far more notable if I hadn’t have noticed this book, as the title is clearly meant to catch attention.

(To be fair, my copy was in neon pink and neon green, so I was doubly entranced by it.)

Now, in most cases, I pick up a book like this, crack it open, and the first few paragraphs clues me in as to what the book is really about. (I really have read far too many diet books.) So I glanced at the back cover, prepared myself to write it off as an Atkins Diet knock-off, and then cracked it open.

What I opened it to was something I’d never, ever heard before. So I was intrigued. And it was my birthday and I had successfully avoided buying anything in the Lululemon store, so I thought I deserved this book. I picked it up and poured through it on the way home.

Now. This book? Is pretty poorly written. I found myself cringing at the lack of editing and writing style quite often. It is also, at times, entirely sexist. Which I thought was interesting, and I wondered if maybe the author’s first language was not english. Sadly, I really did think these things.

But there were a couple of things in this book that I’ve adapted since reading it that .. are .. kind of working for me? Oddly enough? I know. Bear with me.

Don’t eat breakfast. This was groundbreaking for me. I have never, ever been a breakfast person. The occasional big breakfast on a weekend morning? Sure, okay. But in general, I hate eating before noon. I just don’t feel like I need to. This book advocates what my body was already telling me. Breakfast is for the expressed purpose of breaking your fast (overnight, right?), and why do that? Your body is already in a prime position to burn fat! Let it run! So that was nice.

In fact, the author suggests just having a cup of black coffee. Admittedly, I am not a coffee fan. ESPECIALLY black coffee. But I’ve managed. I take a travel mug of black coffee to work and sip on it until it’s gone. (To take it a step further, I’ve taken to putting a small spoonful of coconut oil in there.. this both takes the edge off the coffee and gives me a bit of caloric umph.)(Also, coconut oil is crazy good for you.)

Take a cold bath or shower. This was actually what I opened the book to at the bookstore and I had never, ever heard of such. The author outlines the process to do this safely, and those without bathtubs (MOI!) are not exempt. He claims that this gets your metabolism revved up for the day. I don’t know if there’s any science behind that, but you know? I’ve pretty much just started making the last three minutes of my normal shower time devoid of any warm water. It takes some getting used to, but .. I like it. I really do feel energized and ready to go.

These changes, obviously, are not quite dietary. Or exercise-driven. Which is why I think they’ve been easier to stick to. In a coincidence, the author also advocates cleansing your diet of any artificial sweetners, which I had decided to do anyway. For the most part, I’ve stuck to that – having the occasional diet drink when we’re out at dinner. (Although I’m more than likely to just have unsweet tea and leave it unsweet.)

The rest of the book is an interesting read, as it dances between being Atkins-like and South Beach-like, with a dose of Paleo thrown in there. There’s definitely some unique ideas in there, and while I can’t say that I’m now a Size 6 — let’s be realistic here; I’d look REALLY WEIRD as a Size 6 — I can say that I haven’t gained any weight since I stopped running. In fact, I’ve lost weight. (To be fair, I’ve probably lost strength and endurance as well, but again, it’s a TIME issue.)

So if you’re looking for a unique viewpoint in the often-repetitive diet market, this isn’t a bad read.

(And if you already like black coffee? You’re GOLDEN.)

Comments { 3 }

Breaking Up with My Boyfriends, Ben AND Jerry.

By on June 13, 2012 in The Chef (Snort), The Runner

I can’t remember the last time I went on a “diet”; about two years ago, I started researching real food movements and caveman-centric eating styles and why we tried a bit of each of those, I found that – as a family – it was just easier to mix in the best parts of all of those.

As such, I found the need for “diets” to be obsolete. I was not looking for a quick fix or a band-aid or a miracle cabbage soup. (That is my FAVORITE point of reference for diets. “The Cabbage Soup” diet – did y’all ever try that? BOY HOWDY, DID THAT MAKE MY LIFE HARD AND SMELLY.)

But a longtime friend of mine – in fact, back in our early days at the company, we used to take turns ordering the newest “lose 20 lbs instantly!” products and sharing them – started a new diet that involved a high-potency vitamin/calorie dosing three times a day. And I thought, Ehh. Why not?

So these drops (yes, a three-letter-drop) are such that you take them sublingually, three times a day. And they offer you a diet plan to complement the drops – a 500 calorie a day diet.

Which, COME ON. Am I right?

Well, part of the plan is that you don’t exercise beyond walking because your body can’t take it. (While starving? NO KIDDING!) So I’m not exactly following that. But what I’ve found in the last few days is that I need the chance to detox.

Sugar? Is out. And not, like, entirely out because I am still eating fruit. (As is allowed on “the plan”. 6 strawberries, a small apple, or half of a grapefruit are permitted twice a day.) But I need to remember how sweet fruit is.  I need to remember that fresh summer berries are a decadent, luxurious summer dessert.

Carbs? No sir. I’m not bending much on this with the small exception that I may have some vegetables that are not allowed on the Atkins diet – legumes are not allowed, nor is corn or potatoes and I KNOW I KNOW THOSE ARE STARCHES ANYWAY. But I’m not saying that if I’m starving, and I have a big run ahead of me, that I’m going to avoid those things. But no more carb-loading on pasta before a measly 1 mile run and declaring it holy in the name of exercise.

Snacking? THIS MAKES ME SAD. But no, no more snacking. This is really the RESET button I needed – I needed to realize what had become habit versus me fueling my body. No more mindlessly shoving a Larabar (or two) into my face between breakfast and lunch. No more hovering around the vending machine. We are now pursuing purposeful eating.

My friend and I were talking about how the first few days went and she nailed it on the head: “It’s like you’re breaking up with an abusive boyfriend. He didn’t treat you right, he didn’t love you back, but yet, you just kept seeing him. Sneaking in a visit here, lying about seeing him there.” YES. YES YES YES. It has made me realize just how habitually I ate, not with any purpose. Because I looooove him.

So that’s where I am. I’m probably a little cranky – and a little frustrated that I have had two little bundt cakes sitting on my counter, uneaten, for three days now but who’s counting OH I AM – and I’m definitely coming out of withdrawal. But! I’m sleeping better – like, WAY better – and I’m actually tasting food again. I made Balsamic Slow-Cooker Chicken on Monday and each breast I’ve eaten since has been a got-damned flavor orgasm. How amazing ARE tomatoes, anyway? AND RED ONION? PURE BLISS.

The point I’m trying to make is this: I know it sounds crazy, but sometimes, we need to hit a RESET button. I’m not doing some 500 calorie a day diet, because HAHAHAH PLEASE. But I am tapering back and only eating natural, real foods and cutting out the crap that isn’t really helping my bottom line. (SEE WHAT I DID THERE? BECAUSE MY BOTTOM IS FAT.)

Of course, because why wouldn’t you?, I had one last hurrah. A menage e trois, if you will, with Ben, Jerry, and Jimmy Fallon. AND IT WAS GLORIOUS.

Comments { 2 }

Some Whining: Let Me Give You It.

By on May 31, 2012 in The Biotch, The Mommy, The Runner

I remember taking vacations growing up. I remember the yearly trip somewhere, be it the beach or grandparents or St. Louis or wherever. I remember packing up our conversion van and hitting the road.

Somehow, I didn’t get this gene. I WANT THIS GENE. We have not taken a true “vacation” since 2009, when my parents treated us to a week at the beach. It was AWESOME, and even Tony – who was maybe 18 months at the time – wistfully longs to visit “da beach” again. Before that, it was our honeymoon.

We just cannot travel. We cannot. And it eats me up. I crave fresh air, NEW air, and different food and new textures under my feet. I miss the adventure and my wanderlust just fills me with bitterness and resentment.

But we have a kid in daycare. Another one in private school. We have two car payments. A mortgage. An A/C unit with a deathwish. Crazy, stressful, unrelenting jobs. These things sap most of our resources. And, amazingly, it takes resources to travel.

Summer has hit, apparently. And the travel bug has bitten me. Like, eleventy frillion times, and the itch is constant.

****
I have a love/hate relationship with interns every summer. Not with any particular intern, not personally, but just with the theory of them in general. I want to gather them all in a room and then tell them, “STAY IN SCHOOL. GET YOUR DEGREE. AND THEN LIVE A BETTER LIFE THAN I DID.” I want them to see the abundant fluorescent lighting here, and how it accentuates the bags under all of our eyes, and how we all walk with our gaze downward. As R said on Twitter, “Take a good look at the people who have been here a long time, and decide if THAT is the person you want to be.”

Now, the great thing is: it could be worse. I love what we’re working for. I believe in what we do. And I like most of the people I work with. But we are a culture, here. A way of life. And you have to wonder if the way of life is worth it, in the end.

****

Okay, seriously, can we TALK about the whole zombie explosion and the guy eating the other guy’s face off and the woman eating her baby and the weirdo sending dismembered body parts to Canadian government officials? Because, y’all. MEMORIAL DAY USED TO MEAN SOMETHING.

****

I got up at 4:30 the other morning and met some friends for a sunrise run. It was amazing. Seriously. Since we’re in the throes of summer right now (which, HAHA, is not even the throes of summer, but it feels like a tour through North Hell), running at dawn is about the only time I won’t perish in the heat. And it was lovely.

We weren’t out for time or distance, just wanting to stretch our legs a little. And in not worrying about time or distance, we had a great pace. For over two miles. Which is almost the 5k that I sucked so badly at on Saturday. Which makes me think this running thing is more than just a little mental. Because I could’ve easily finished out another mile yesterday morning for the full 5K course and in WAY better time. Because I didn’t care about time. Or pace. Or distance, even. I just wanted to stretch my legs.

(Thanks, Jennifer and Anita, for the company!)

****

As if I needed another Mommy Guilt blow to the gut, the only thing Tony has asked for over the past few months is to get back to swim lessons. For some reason – unseen by his momma, who will not put her head underwater – the child loves swimming. He actually can’t swim, but he had made some HUGE strides through the last round of lessons he took. (In .. February, maybe?)

We finally made it over to the YMCA to sign him up for June’s classes, and WHAM!, the schedule has been adjusted for summer. The latest class starts at 5:00. We cannot reliably get away from work in time to get him to a 5:00 pm class.

And it BREAKS.MY.HEART.

So we’re looking into other options, but MAN. 1) I love the YMCA, and would rather spend my money there. 2) That’s where we’ve always gone, and you can’t beat the price. 3) I DON’T NEED ANOTHER THING TO MAKE ME FEEL GUILTY ABOUT NEVER BEING HOME.

****

Silver lining: apparently, I have whined enough on ANOTHER topic to make a difference.

I am posting this from work.

Comments { 7 }

Can’t Stop at the Finish Line.

By on May 29, 2012 in The Blushing Bride, The Mommy, The Runner

For Bryan’s birthday (aka Memorial Day to the uneducated), we spent a day lazily wandering around, napping as we felt like it, and gorging on platters of splendor. OH HAHA JUST KIDDING, BECAUSE WE DON’T KNOW HOW TO BE LAZY.

We got up at 6:30 to start preparing for the race. Tony and I had done some prep work the night before as well:

And Bryan must be Tony’s favorite parent because he gifted Bryan’s sign with a portrait of Beekey:

(You’ll notice Beekey’s “hairs” on top of her head. She looks like a Kewpie doll to me.)

And we met Aunt Gee and Dude at a Starbucks for pre-race child-swapping.

Where Aunt Gee and Dude totally geared Tony up with a breakfast of champions.

And then off we went!

Of course, since there were roughly 2k people running our race, it was a LEEEETLE crowded when we got there, but through determination (and me ditching Bryan), I was able to find my running group. (Said Bryan, before I ditched him, “I’m not walking anymore. I’m staying here.” I was like Yes, Lord forbid you WALK before the 5k you’re about to RUN. ANYWAY.) There had been tales of pace-markers for this race, folks with tall signs that would rise above the throng and tell us where to stay in the pack. Alas, they were indeed only fables, because no mythical pace-markers appeared. So we hoped that staying in the middle would work out for us. I still couldn’t find Bryan. (I had ditched him GOOD.)

The race began and I hung with Alicia and Katie for a good bit, but the heat. OH THE HEAT, Y’ALL. It was easily 90+ when the race began, with not a SINGLE FREAKING CLOUD IN THE SKY, and .. y’all know I now avoid sunscreen like the plague. (Unless you’re reading this, Dr. Tim! Then I swear I SLATHER MYSELF IN IT FROM HEAD TO TOE.) So about 1.5 miles in, I had to walk more than I ran.

But! Before we got to that point, Bryan found us! So, as is our way, we made a point of humiliating the birthday boy through song. The funny thing about “Happy Birthday” is that everyone knows it, so it’s kind of a reflex. You hear someone singing, so you join in. Soon, all the runners around us were joining in AS WE RAN and Bryan blushed and ran faster to get away from us.

BRYAN BLUSHED, Y’ALL. Never ever. This is the guy who let me take a picture of him in women’s show choir dresses.

(I guess he’s getting shy in his old age.)

Anyway, I finally made it across the finish line. (I made this STUPID ASS mantra up as I ran: Run in the sun, delayed in the shade. Because I’m apparently Rainman and need rhymes to remind me to get out of the sun.) My time was crap, but Bryan made a great time, and finished his first 5K AND my whole family turned out to hold signs and cheer him in.

(This was about the time that Tony started telling Dude he needed to pee. Which is awesome. Nothing like a little preschooler urine to cool you off.)(He didn’t ACTUALLY pee.)

After everyone made it in (me being the last, OBVIOUSLY, because why would I finish a race with a decent time, right?), the family headed to brunch while Bryan and I ran home to get the cake and presents.

We had a delicious brunch at Cracker Barrel, and there is no food more delicious than your after race celebratory meal. I’m pretty sure you could be served cold canned dog food and you’d be like YES, THIS IS THE BEST EVER CAN I HAVE SECONDS?

Post cookie-cake – because Bryan really is 12 at heart – we all headed north to pick up Jack for the rest of the day’s festivities. We had a surprise for him for his birthday (next weekend) that we were going to go look at.

See, for years now, I’ve been nudging Bryan into considering a ball python. I LOVE SNAKES and thought that it’d be a cool pet. Way cooler than, say, a STUPID CAT. But instead, we kept getting STUPID CATS. But then! Then we met VooDoo the snake. VooDoo was raised by a family that we know through theatre (he was actually IN a show with Aunt Gee and Dude several years ago), and since all of their kids are in or leaving for college, we asked if VooDoo needed a new home! And he did! So I WON!

We head north to pick up Jack and learn .. oh, they got a new puppy. NAMED VOODOO.

(Y’all, I shit you not. WHAT ARE THE CHANCES.)

So we’re all like, “Okay, yeah! Your puppy is really cool! (.. seriously, SUPER cute puppy.) Huh. Well.. um..” and we didn’t know where to go. Still do the snake thing? Are we stealing thunder? I DON’T KNOW. We debated and headed back to the house for a while. Where Jack promptly fell asleep. Yes, this day was going SWIMMINGLY.

After ten minutes of POKING JACK WITH A STICK TO WAKE UP, we headed to VooDoo’s house. They were having a barbeque, and as is their hospitality-ess (?) ways, the boys were promptly handed a hot dog and pointed to the trampoline. Which was the first hour of silence I’d had in probably five days.

(Tony has hit this mental spurt where – not even exaggerating – he NEVER STOPS TALKING. ALL THE TIME.)

So Jack was excited about VooDoo the snake. And with the blessing of the family, we agreed to rename the snake. And we loaded the snake up. And took the snake home. AND I AM SO THRILLED. Here’s Cain, our new baby:

Then we ate dinner and took Jack home. And .. I noticed it was really quiet in the car. Like, I could hear myself think. Sure enough..

I sighed deeply, happy at the silence, but also happy that it’s so often filled with chatter and laughter and squeals and tales.

Bryan and I held hands the entire drive home.

Comments { 3 }

This Weekend, If My Site Decides Not to Eat It.

By on May 21, 2012 in The Evil Stepmother, The Runner

Y’all, I don’t know. I wrote a totally introspective piece that, yes, maybe leaned a little on the emo side, and then my site ate it promptly six hours later. I don’t know. Every feed reader in existence picked it up, but my site acts as if it NEVER EVEN HAPPENED. I don’t know. It is not anywhere on this site. I DON’T KNOW.

If you are hacking my shit, please stop. (That should take care of that.)

This weekend was a lot of me at the office. So I’ll spare you that. Well, sort of.

Friday, I unexpectedly had to work until 7:30. I had men all over the city running to pick up kids (.. I knew these men, to be clear)(and they were MY kids, to also clarify; these were not just random strangers stealing children), and I didn’t make it home until 8:00. I was pretty peeved about that.

The boys, however, had a blast. They went to a men’s barbershop – WHY ARE THEY OLD ENOUGH TO VISIT A BARBERSHOP, I ASK YOU?! – and had special haircuts. Well, Jack and Bryan did. Tony regaled all that would listen with re-enactments of the last episode of Power Rangers Samurai. He’s getting quite good at “samuraizing”, as he calls it.

After the hot towels and neck massages and whatever else they do at those places, they came home with their chests puffed out. I’m surprised they didn’t just whip it on out and pee everywhere, such was the testosterone flowing through their veins. Because it was so late, almost everyone turned in. Especially me because working till 7:30 makes me T-I-R-E-D.

AND! Also! I had a date in the morning. Katie from Running (as is her name in my house) and Marsha from Running both picked me up at 6:45 so we could go run downtown. Why? BECAUSE WE ARE INSANE. That’s what makes us good runners, you see. We are the kind of people who will spray sunscreen directly in our eyes and then run several miles like a pirate. We are practically olympians.

(I am not kidding when I say that I dreamed that about applying sunscreen to myself on Friday night.)

We met up with lots of other Running Friends (and I LOVE THIS ABOUT RUNNING) and we all lined up, two or three deep in the street, and ran lots of miles. It was pretty awesome. I actually had a REALLY good run. I kept about a 13 min pace, which is okay for me, but I kept my intervals (run 3:00, walk 1:00) through the entire course. I usually give in about 2.5 miles in and walk the rest. So I was pretty stoked.

We all piled back in the van post-run, drove-thru for some chocolate milk, and then they dropped me off curbside.

A good employee? Would’ve probably showered and changed before heading into work.

I totally did not do that.

Okay, full disclosure. I wanted to shower. Because I smelled BAD. And I knew that. But I had scheduled the starting time of the day, and I was already running late for the SATURDAY that I HAD SCHEDULED. You see what rock and hard place I was in between, right? So I thought, I didn’t even WANT to work today, so this will punish them for asking me.

Well, so, here’s the thing I realized about THREE HOURS after I got there.

When you’re running and with runners and whatnot, there are certain things that are forgiven, and not even really acknowledged. Smell is among those things. Bodily functions in general are not really acknowledged. I am not a marathon runner, but I’ve seen COUNTLESS pictures of people who run marathons and seriously don’t stop to use the bathroom, IF YOU CATCH MY DRIFT. Okay, so that is not where I was going with this, lest you think I just went into work having shit my pants earlier.

But another one of those things that runners generally don’t acknowledge is the fact that most sports bras don’t do much .. by way of .. hiding .. erect nipples. And after you run for a long time, your blood is flowing. So. Even after you run ..

I JUST WANTED TO CRAWL INTO A HOLE AND DIE IS WHAT I’M SAYING HERE.

Anyway, I worked all day Saturday. Got home around 4:00.

Saturday night, everyone turned in pretty early as well. Mostly because I was tired, BUT ALSO because Bryan and Jack were joining Kim for a trail running session! Kim, God love her, offered to take a bunch of beginners trail running on Sunday morning and I totally volunteered the boys to go. Kim is the insane exercise maven who RAN A MARATHON ON TRAILS ON SATURDAY, and then volunteered to take these newbies out for a 4 mile trek.

(Jack looks unsure.)

****

About the time I got to this point, our power went out. It was out for the next three hours. So technically, this is the next morning, but I’m not about to go back through and change tenses.

****

Anyway, Jack and Bryan held their own on the trails until Jack’s knee started bothering him, so he and Bryan walked the rest of the trail. They were the token males of the group, so their stride was so much longer than everyone else’s that walking was just fine. NOW EVERYONE KNOWS MY PAIN AND WHY I WALK SO FAST.

So the reason I really wanted to get through this last night was because I was really, really proud of Jack yesterday.

Jack’s mom works in a special needs classroom at their local elementary school. (“their” elementary school because it’s a good 45 minutes away from us.) As such, Jack tends to do things like volunteer there, and with Special Olympics, and all sorts of amazing things that my heart is just too weak to list here.

We stopped by the bookstore at the boys’ request after dinner, and there was a mentally disabled man playing with the train set in the kids’ section. THIS ROCKED TONY’S WORLD. He wanted to go play with the trains, but.. that man was there. A MAN. I was off browsing on my own while Bryan was with the boys, so when they found me, Tony would talk of nothing else. He kept glancing longingly back at the trains. “I want to play with the trains,” he’d whisper.

So Jack took him back there. When we came back, the gentleman was dutifully reciting an episode of Thomas the Train for the boys while acting it out with the appropriate trains, and Tony was riveted. Jack was smiling and cheering him on. He had already made friends with the man’s guardian, and they were chatting it up too.

When we left, we all told them goodbye and Jack said, “It was so nice to meet y’all; have a great day!”

HE IS ELEVEN.

He is amazing.

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