Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Sing

Today I had the privilege of chaperoning our 7th and 8th grade choir on a field trip to sing at the local nursing home.

Yes, you just read the words "privilege", "chaperoning", and "nursing home" in the same sentence...seems impossible!!!

But not in GOTT's world...and not without the help of Musical Muse.

Because they managed to get about 80 kids loaded up on a bus/buses (more on that later), had them sing beautifully, and then herded them into the local hot dog joint (James Coney Island) for a drama-free lunch...and returned to school in time for some classes.

I was just along for the ride...

It was...magic...

We have a HUGE choir...the 5th and 6th grade choir is as big, if not bigger.

And the music they make...well, that is some magic too.

I got up and got myself fixed up the best I could...in a long lace skirt I haven't fit into for years, 3 inch stiletto boots, and some wicked jewelry...I looked in the mirror and was greeted with a vision of:

STEVIE NICKS

in her best Rhiannon persona...

Oh, well...the 8th grade girls loved it...and that was the point...not to embarrass them.

When I got to the school and we got all the kids accounted for we headed to the buses...or should I say BUS as only one showed up.

GOTT fixed it...I won't tell you how because, well, it might make you nervous if I tell you we had more than 2 kids to a seat, but they have tiny little butts so they fit. I stood. Off to the nursing home we went...

The other bus met us there so you can put away all thoughts of us getting in trouble for seating multiple children per seat for the VERY short ride...remember, I did it standing in stilletto boots.

We got to Treemont (the nursing home) and the kids piled out of the bus, got in line, trooped in and...

made magic...

They sang like little angels...even though some of them are best described as little devils.

I was bursting with pride.

"Carol of the Bells" (a very difficult piece to sing...even for a high school choir) was amazing...

The residents were so happy...some were moved to tears...some sang along with Silent Night...some gave a standing ovation after every song!

And then the kids went and visited with the residents...that was very special to watch. Some of the girls were very excited to see one lady in particular because they had a marvelous time with her last spring...I sat and visited with her again because I so enjoyed seeing her.

Then we piled back onto TWO buses for the ride to James Coney Island.

And that, my friends, was where more magic happened.

I don't know what was more impressive...my self control with the food or the kids' behavior, but I think I will go with the kids...

They were great...

And not one of them ended up with chili all over their dress uniform jackets or ties.

Everyone sat nicely and included others. Tables were full. One boy was sitting by himself and some girls invited him to sit with them so he would not be alone. Those girls are in 7th and the boy was in 8th and is a bit of a loner but he seemed to really enjoy sitting with the girls and being asked to be a part of a table.

I didn't have to get up and tap a shoulder once. GOTT and Musical Muse and I enjoyed our meal.

Dimples warned me to avoid the chili and I did...a grilled chicken sandwich for me with mayo on the side...I used about 1/2 a teaspoon of the mayo. No fries or tater tots but I did have apple slices and a Diet Coke.

I wrote Dimples...I hope he rewards my self control tomorrow with a set of "50's" instead of "100's" but I'm not holding my breath...

Meanwhile I am sitting with GOTT (remember, he looks amazing and not his age at all and is fit and trim) and watched him put away 2 cheese coney dogs, a bowl of chili, and some fries...with a ton of jalepenos...

why I still love someone who can eat like that is beyond me...it is criminal...

After lunch it was back on the buses and back to school. I couldn't wait to brag to the Headmaster about how great the kids were...they were a credit to our school.

When we got back I went to see my friend Coach Cuteness who had received a package with my birthday gift to myself (that he ordered on my behalf)...my new flash and bracket for my camera I bought from him. I'm a disaster with the camera but I am learning...I feel like it is a bad toddler that I am trying to control and Coach Cuteness is doing his level best to train me with the camera...poor baby is infintely patient...

And I seem to have a really good ability to drive Coaches nuts...

Then I found myself in the position of having to be the offical photographer for a school event...thank goodness it was outside because I haven't a prayer of being good with inside shots for quite some time.

After all of that I decided that the day had been enough on the crazy side that I needed to go ahead and go to the gym.

I had previously told Dimples that I was taking today off but I wrote him to let him know that my OCD got the best of me and I needed some sweat time...he supported that but warned me that I do need to listen to my body (as it sings to me...off key, mind you...)and rest when I need it so as not to injure myself.

I guess I was tired because I couldnt' run today like I did yesterday...but I'm going to chalk it up to a lot of running yesterday, a training session (yesterday) and a lot of stress today...because even though the kids didn't stress me, the stress of making sure that they were all present and accounted for did stress me...that and being sad over my friend Patrick made a run on the treadmill and time on the arc trainer something I needed to clear my head.

I put my music on and let it set a beat for me to run to...and it was a good time with my head and my thoughts and my breathing...but really just thinking back to the kids singing Carol of the Bells or my sweet little twin angels singing Amy Grant's version of "Oh Little Town of Bethlehem" (an amazing song) were the only music I really needed.

I watched my favorite show (Glee) tonight and really enjoyed the music and show...and as I heard that slick, professionally-produced music sung by professionals and Broadway veterans, I was blown away by their talent...but it didn't put me in any more awe than I was in today with the kids. Because my kids, MY KIDS (I think of them that way) may not sing as perfectly, but they sang with their hearts...and that is a very great thing to do.

God gives us all instruments...for some of us it is our voices (not me, not me...), for some it is our athletic bodies (again, not me), or dancing bodies...or the ability to draw, paint, or sculpt...but we can all sing His praises, if not with our actual voices, but rather with the voices of movement or through art...

you know what I mean?

And today, when I heard the music that the children made with the help of GOTT (the best choir director, period...) and Musical Muse (who is amazing with her ability to keep a kid on pitch/key/time), and I saw the pleasure on the faces of the nursing home residents, I was brought to a place of joy...

Their gift of song was a gift to me and my spirit...and to all that heard it...

And I pray that some day, when I am old and need a walker to get about, that some children will come and sing so I can hear their voices and feel that joy again...and it will remind me of how priveleged I am to be in the presence of such gifts...gifts that the children don't even realize they are giving, but they do...when they sing...

Because can you think of anything more beautful than the sound of children's voices, in perfect harmony and unison, glorifying God?

No, I can't either...

Inspiration Song: a little odd considering that I'm talking about choir music, but today I really needed a little more of My Chemical Romance so it was their song "Sing" that got me to keep going when I wanted to give up. I'm going to be obsessed with their new album for quite a while...

bye Darlings...now go and sing...in whatever key you like!

Monday, November 29, 2010

Get Outta My Way

It's official: I hate running but I do it anyway...

I told Dimples today that I am far too compliant with him and I need to rebel a little more...and then I just did what he said...

So his cute self shows up for our training session today and he announces that we are having a day of "100's"...

It sounded like "coach" talk to me...not "woman"...

but then he smiled and explained that we, or rather I, was going to do 100 of everything: 100 pushups, 100 lunges (each leg), 100 squats, 100 step-ups (each leg...onto a bench), 100 rows, etc...

It felt like 1000...

and joy of joys we got to run in between each set of things...I say "we" because he did jog with me from place to place...

Does it clarify anything for you for me to say that I have been using ice packs for the last 1/2 hour? And that I drank not one but 2 glasses of some really delicious red wine?

My glute muscles are still pulled so mostly I SIT on ice packs...that is a whole new experience for my "nether regions" with that little bit of fun...but it does help and my pulled muscles do feel better...or maybe it is the Advil and the wine...

Remember, Advil and wine are a great combination (that is for you, Jeanette!)!!!!

He asked me if I had taken any ice baths (that was his suggestion)...

Do you know how quickly I said "Hell No!"?

yeah...it was pretty darn fast...but I told him my tub was broken (which it is)...the faucet at least...but there is no way, no how I am sitting in an ice bath...so I just use the ice packs.

I swear he told me that just to see if I would do it...

So this morning I got onto the treadmill and just before I hit the start button I texted him to inform him that since he had taken over my life I was now on the treadmill doing as he said and RUNNING...well, let's not exaggerate here, I basically JOG...

I think his answer was something akin to joyously informing me that it was good for me...I think he was sitting in his office at work laughing and trying to figure out what next form of torture he can inflict on me...after all, I am miraculously compliant with him.

So after a few back and forth texts about what I am to do I tell him I am putting on my music and hitting "go"...

I stayed on the #%#$#%## machine for an hour...he was impressed and probably a little shocked. Especially when I told him later that I was jogging at a pace of 4.3-5 mph at a slight incline...slow for most of you but basically booking it for me.

My friend Tam-Tam came up and laughed at me and was very supportive and then told me I should try running in the park. She has a lot of faith in me. She's the one who made me get back to spin class. I love her but I am not running in the park.

I guess I will shortly eat those words if Dimples tells me to do it...thank goodness Tam-Tam doesn't have his number to tell him...

Another friend messaged me to encourage me to try and do a 5K. This after another friend told me to come and do a relay with her.

I love and respect both of these women...and I will travel to their respective cities to see them and spend time with them but I will not run with them.

Because I hate running...jogging...whatever...even if Dimples is doing it with me and encouraging me to keep going...

But part of me is starting to actually consider the suggestion of the race...not so much to race but to conquer my fear and loathing of it all and to celebrate that I am changing myself.

I'm a pretty tough bitch and I could just knock people out of my way as a form of amusement as I go along...

But right now I just struggle with running 1/2 mile at a time on the treadmill so that 5K is a long long long way off.

The more I think about it, I really understand that the only REAL obstacle I have to it all is myself...and I need to get out of my own way about doing these kinds of things.

More often than not we stand in our OWN way more than we stand in the way of others or let others stand in our way.

After all I am the woman who basically LIED to GOTT and told him I knew what I was doing the first time I costumed a show...I think he knew it too but was desperate.

But had I said "I don't know what to do or how to do it", I would have robbed myself of the very great and very real pleasure I get from doing it now! I would have stood in my own way of finding something that I truly truly truly love to do. I love love love working with those 8th grade kids and I love love love them and I am so glad I didn't chicken out but rather stepped up and TRIED doing something that basically scared me a little and pushed me to do something new and fun. And I would have missed out on the incredible friendship I have with GOTT and TTG...because they are 2 people that I literally cannot live without...my sweet soul brothers...and they inspire me daily...

And from there I found that I loved working with kids and decided to substitute teach and from there I decided to teach Art a la Carte (art history).

I could have gotten in my own way but I didn't...

So now, I really feel like my greatest limit is MYSELF and that I have to get outta my own way with things.

Dimples tells me all the time that I "can do it"...and he pushes me to push myself a little further, harder, faster...more...

And my friends encourage me to do things...like try a 5K...

So maybe I am only limiting myself?

Nah...I hate running...

But I might just do it...

Stay tuned...

And don't limit yourelf either...I'll make a deal with you...you try something that scares you and so will I...except that no matter what I am not jumping out of a plane because that is where I draw the line...

But we should all do something that scares us a bit...because it makes us grow...

Get outta your own way...and I will get outta mine...

Inspiration Song: "Get Outta My Way" by Kylie Minogue. Mostly because I love love love Kylie but also because I hit "play" on it 3 times to get me through my last 1/2 mile on the treadmill today...

Sunday, November 28, 2010

Running with the Devil

Does my blog title scare you a little?

Are you a little worried for poor Coach Dimples?

Because, after all, I am easily the devil in our little relationship. The man is a saint to put up with me so therefore I am the one with the claws, horns, and tail.

But the guy has gotten me to RUN so I think maybe he isn't so much a saint as a wizard (as I wondered about in a previous blog---see "Do You Believe in Magic?").

I. don't. run.

Period.

Idon'trun...Idon'trun...Idon'trun...

I do not ever ever ever run.

I hate to run.

I hate hate hate to run.

And dammit, he is making me run.

I totally hate it.

I hate every second of it...

At least I thought I did...until today...

and maybe...

I don't hate running so much.

Let me walk you through my history with running:

I ran as a child when I played with other kids.

In middle school I hated PE. It wasn't that I hated exercise because I loved going to ballet, tap, and jazz classes. It was that I totally sucked at sports of all kinds.

I can't catch or throw a ball. I cannot serve a ball. I cannot hit things with a bat or racket. I cannot jump and I cannot run fast.

I truly hated the moment when teams were chosen for PE games.

I was always the last one picked.

I wasn't fat back then so it wasn't that I was the fat little girl. It was that I totally failed at any sport and everyone knew it.

So I would be the last little loser picked.

Standing there in my fabulous and oh-so-flattering-polyester-double-knit-snap-on-the-shoulder onsie PE uniform. It was light blue. With white pin stripes. It stunk no matter how much it was washed. It looked like a polyester overgrown baby onsie except that it had no sleeves. It was just one ugly one-piece thing that did not go in at the waist so it made you look like a big blue box. Memorial Middle School girls, I can hear/feel/see you cringing at the memory...

Once my sweet Uncle was subbing as our PE teacher. He let me be team captain every time. Someone accused him of nepotism (of course that kid didn't say "nepotism" because he didn't know the word...he just said "No fair! She's your niece!"). My uncle answered him back that he hated watching me always get picked last but I was good at choosing teams...

So me and my blue polyester onsie uglifest of a PE uniform would choose teams...and pray that I never had to bat/serve/run...

And then there was that damn President's fitness medal/patch thing...you had to do "x" many pullups, run "x" far, etc.

So that meant I had to run laps...

I was thrilled when I learned that things were better in high school!

Well, notsomuch...

Because after my parents divorced and we had to leave our home on the ranch and my mom decided to move us to Houston, I found myself in 9th grade and NOT in high school...because 9th grade in Houston was JUNIOR HIGH...

sheesh...

So PE was once again a horrible experience for me. I do think the PE uniforms were (marginally) better...but not by much.

When I go into the gym at my son's school as see PE these days I cannot believe what a different thing it is. The kids actually have fun. And the coaches are fantastic and I love watching them lead the kids through a much better experience than I had.

Sophomore Year: I had to do bloody PE again!

I moved to Kerrville. I had planned on joining the drill team and just doing that. But nooooooooooooo....

In order to be on the drill team you had to serve time on the pep squad. I refused to do it...the pep squad, that is. I was so frustrated because as horrible as I was at sport, I could dance.

I could dance my ass off.

I could kick higher and better than any of the girls on the drill team. I'm rather "bendy" and very flexible so my kicks were the bomb. I have rhythm. I can stay on beat. I can choreograph. I knew I was better than most of the girls on the drill team and I had "made" the drill team in Kingsville before I left.

But rules are rules...

Except for when they make an exception for someone...and they made an exception for another girl...who had made her drill team in Houston before moving.

So she got to be a Golden Girl and I had to do PE.

I hated PE.

I had to run. Hated hated hated it...

I guess you have figured out by now that I was never on the track team...

So I kept practicing my high kicks and dance moves...because I planned on being a Rockette at Radio City Music Hall...that is until my father pointed out to me that none of the Rockette's were 5'2"...end of that plan...

Junior Year I gave in and did the stupid pep squad. I choreographed routines for us to do in the stands. We looked good.

Then came drill team tryouts time. I got mad at the drill team instructor. So, when she had me hauled into the Principal's office for being "disrespectful" (I ran out of the gym after my friend who had just had a disagreement with her), I did what my father told me I always did best---I painted myself into a corner...

So there I was in the Principal's office with the drill team teacher and the pep squad/cheerleading coach (since I was technically under her jurisdiction as a pep squad member) and the principal was doing his level best not to laugh at the fact that me with my straight-A's and great PSAT scores and my good conduct was in his office because I chased after my friend to comfort her.

And so, here comes the corner painting: I declared that I didn't want to be a Golden Girl after all, that I was going out for....CHEERLEADER....

Stupid stupid stupid

I didn't to be a cheerleader. I liked to dance. I couldn't tumble to save my life.

But I could jump...I could jump really really really well. And I was a heck of a solid base for doing stunts.

I just wanted to worry the drill team lady but then the ball started rolling down the hill (so to speak) and I couldn't stop it. I was going to back out but my father pointed out to me that since I was painted into that corner I better find a way out of it without humiliating myself.

So I ran for cheerleader and made it.

It wasn't so bad. I loved my fellow cheerleaders, especially my partner...she was/is a sweetheart and we had a great time.

I would run out onto the track when we would come out for games...I ran just far enough to do a big round off into a toe-touch jump. That was about it for my running.

My first game was spectacular...a spectacular flop...literally...

I ran onto the track and promptly placed my hands onto the surface of the track for my round-off but happened to place my hands right onto my ponytails and almost scalped myself...and just skidded onto the track. I had a pretty good track burn on my thighs for that.

My father marched down the steps of the stadium to express the obvious: I had flopped my flip...and flopped onto the track in spectacular fashion.

Thanks, Daddy...

The next week I tried a new hairstyle...french braids. My hands did not land on my hair. I did my run/jump thing just fine.

But once again, here came Daddy with a critique...he told me the hair wasn't working and I looked like a giant q-tip.

The next week I tried "Princess Leia" hair...the following week was "Gretel" braids...and when it cooled off I settled on full-on Farrah hair and just watched my hand placement as I did the round-off.

But I missed dancing....

And I almost had the chance one week when the drill team instructor came to me and asked if I would perform with the drill team at half time (flu was rampant and I think some bad grades were happening so they were short a partner). I stood there and just stared at the woman thinking she was nuts for asking me to do it but the cheerleading coach rescued me and declared I would not perform and needed halftime as a break from cheering.

Thank God...because the dance was to "Elvira" by the Oak Ridge Boys...totally the most cringe-inducing dance of the whole football season.

I had to run during some field-day thing we did my senior year...I was more concerned with looking cute and again went "splat" on the track when I had to jump a hurdle. (Fast forward many many many years and imagine my terror when Ke$ha Barbie declared she was going to do hurdles...and the school had no track so her total experience with hurdling was jumping over ONE in practice...she did fine and never fell or knocked over a hurdle...amazing to me...).

I still have scars from that fall on the track...because I was RUNNING...and trying to jump.

In college I avoided running altogether except for running for the toilet when I had too much to drink. I think I ran across campus ONCE for fear of being late to class only to discover the prof didn't care if we were late or even there...

So here I am and Dimples is making me run...we (he runs with me) run on the track at the park and he makes me run on the treadmill.

I told him since I was being so compliant with him I would give it a try and do the treadmill thing on my days when I wasn't working with him or doing spin. So I have done this exactly...5 times...

Last week he had me come to the gym for a workout. We have decided we prefer the park. That might change when the weather is bad.

So there we were in the gym with no track and he puts me on the treadmill. Now when we are at the park he runs with me. This time he just stood by and smiled that cute dimpled smile and starts pushing buttons and the next thing I know the treadmill is starting to race ahead and I am at a serious incline.

Seriously?

Seriously...

I told him that it was too much...he just smiled...

Damn those dimples...

I told him I hoped he was happy because I was most certainly NOT happy about it.

He just smiled...

UGH!

That was Wednesday. It was an Advil-fueled night for me after that...

So Thursday and today I ran on the treadmill on my own.

It's getting better. I can actually run for 1/2 mile at a stretch.

Re-read that sentence....

I can actually run for 1/2 mile at a stretch.

Today I was on the treadmill for over 2 miles and 1.5 of it was at jogging pace---but I did have little walking breaks in between jogging periods.

This time last year I couldn't have run for 1/10 of a mile if I was chasing after Ke$ha Barbie running off with my credit card...

So here is my delimna....

Do I confess to Coach Dimples that I can actually run a bit?

I know it is not much....1/2 mile is nothing nothing nothing, but the fact that I can actually do any running is something I am loathe to admit to because I know that means one thing:

HE WILL MAKE ME DO MORE RUNNING!!!!!!!!!!!

I hate hate hate to run....but I can do it...sortof...

So do I tell him or just keep my mouth closed?

Since he is training me tomorrow I have a bit of time to think about it...and most likely I will tell him....but now I will have to run...

I really don't understand why I am so compliant with him. Must be the dimples...

And he will make me run...run...run...

Oh Goody! At least that means new shoes...even if they are running shoes...

Inspiration Song: "Running with the Devil" by Van Halen...still an awesome song...

Bye Darlings...I have to run!

Thursday, November 25, 2010

All You Need is Love

Today we give thanks for the many blessings in our lives.

I am blessed beyond belief: I have a wonderful family (both my immediate and extended), I have my health (yessssssss), I have a beautiful home, I do volunteer work that I love love love, I have food on the table, money in my pocket, and the future before me.

And I have friends...you people...you are a blessing to me....

Not just because you read this silly thing I write, and not just the kind words you say, but the fact that I know I am blessed to have each and every one of you in my life.

So today I want to REALLY count my blessings and be grateful for all that I have.

Here we go:

I am blessed because I have 2 wonderful children that although they sometimes challenge my sanity and my conviction that I AM a good mother, they are good kids and make me proud every day.

I am blessed to have a husband...he's not perfect...I'm not perfect...marriage is hard...but he is a good man...and it's nice to have someone to share the burden with.

I am blessed that although my parents are no longer with me, I know that I will see them again in heaven and I am grateful for what I learned from them during their all-too-short time here with me.

I am blessed to have wonderful aunts and uncles who have continued to share the burden of raising me since my mother is gone. And yes, I am not yet a real grown-up yet so I still need someone to raise me.

I am blessed to have my siblings. We don't have the best family relationships. In fact, they are pretty crappy relationships, and we are a very fractured bunch since my mother died---and even before---but, and here's the "but" part that I count as a blessing...God GAVE me my siblings and so I will count them as a blessing.

I am blessed to have my sister-in-law. Yes, I am one of those very lucky women who happen to LOVE their sister-in-law! She is a beautiful woman, a wonderful mother, and has a beautiful heart. And how lucky am I that she is not just family, but a friend?

Speaking of which...I am blessed to have GOTT as my dear friend. And GOTTESS. And their little GOTT-SON. Because sometimes we get really lucky and we end up loving someone as much as our own family. I told GOTT the other day that we don't choose our family but we can chooe our friends and we were blessed to consider each other family even if we aren't blood relatives.

And that leads to the fact that I am blessed that I have several friends that I consider to be family...you know who you are...you are the keels on my ship, you are the wind that carries me, you are the arms that hold me. I am blessed to have such wonderful friends...

And I am blessed that I am allowed to do what I do at my son's school. I love love love working with children. I love doing the cotumes for the shows, I love teaching Art a la Carte, I love substitute teaching, I even love going on field trips (sometimes...talk to me next week after I go with the choir). The hugs I get from the kids are a great salary (I have said it before) and I am surrounded with some really great people at that school: Sistah, Precious and Adorable, Bacchus, TTG, Coach Cuteness, Musical Muse, Science Goddess 1, 2, and 3...and so many many more...love love love my SFEDS friends...and since they teach my son they are a double blessing because they are they finest teachers and staff in the world!

I am blessed that I belong to the Houston Racquet Club and found my way into the gym there. I was terrified the first time but now it is a wonderful place for me to go. Who would have thought I would end up being a member of the FITNESS COMMITTEE? I go there to reduce stress, have some time to myself, work my body, and find peace...

I am blessed that I have my "J-girls" in my life: Spinderella (her real name starts with a "J"), J'taime Jamie, and Jay Vee...they have been such great support to me with my health and excercise. I can't tell you how great it is to have instructors that really CARE about you and what you are doing. I love them!

And who can forget how blessed I am to have Fitness Goddess in my corner? She got me kicked into gear and not afraid of the weights...so I would be ready for...

Coach Dimples who is also a double blessing to me. First he was a blessing as my son's football coach and did a great job with him. But now he is a blessing to ME because he really is trying to help me change my life, my ways, my excersise, my body, my mind...and he does it with a good deal of support (and some humor) and has accepted that he is not just "trainer" but "therapist" as well. I can see the changes already and I know that we are just starting on this journey together with him getting me to finish what I have started. It's the back half that is the hard part...it's like lifting a weight---you can push it up, but when you have to bring it down slow and resist gravity, it's hard and it hurts. He is helping me with this back half, this lowering down, this resisting of gravity that would in many cases make people say: "Heck, I've lost 90 pounds and I am done" but he's keeping me going and making it fun while we do it.

I am blessed that my physical has proven that my hard work is paying off. 100 point reduction in my cholesterol has made me say "amen" all day long...

I am blessed that I don't miss hamburgers as much as I thought I would.

I am blessed that I realize that Crave Cupcakes and Fuzzy's pizza are kryptonite to me.

I am blessed that my turkey was amazing today and my stuffing/dressing was almost as good as my Mommy's (because it will NEVER be AS good, just almost so...)

I am blessed that I love spin class as much as I remembered.

I am blessed that my son had an undefeated football season. Not because they won every game, but because his coaches taught him new things. And because they taught those boys how to win with honor, how to challenge themselves at every turn, and how to work as a team. They had a lot of challenges thrown at them---they couldn't practice at the school so they rode a bus to their practice site and lost a lot of valuable time, but they coaches made the most of it and the boys never really complained---but we, the parents did. Once Dimples told me that he would coach them in a parking lot I "got" it...it wasn't WHERE they practiced, it was THAT they practiced. I told you he was a smart guy...

I am blessed that my daughter has proven not just to be a really great math/science girl, but that her talent for photography has grown such that her instructors take definite notice. This is a blessing because it gives her a lot of pride in what she does and she really really really loves taking photos...even if I find it disturbing that some of them are of her made up to look like she drowned...really...

I am blessed that I found a way to make a really yummy low-calorie/almost fat-free dessert...recipe to follow at the bottom of this blog...

I am blessed that there is wine...and Bacchus tells me what to buy and where to buy it...because it is my little "sin" and at least the red stuff isn't all bad for you. Antioxidents, you know?

I am blessed that we have more than one television in the house...because I really don't want to watch football tonight...

I am blessed that I have discovered that writing this is a kind of therapy for me. Sometimes it is raw, sometimes I get to use humor, but it is always always always me and my thougths...uncensored...and it "lets it out" for me...

I am blessed that my family cleaned the kitchen after our big lunch today! I went into the bedroom with the cat and watched something I had recorded on the DVR.

I am blessed that Diet Dr. Pepper exists...because it is my little treat. I am also blessed that Sonic makes a Route 44 of it with vanilla for me when I need a sweet treat.

I am blessed that I found My Fit Foods as a way to eat healthy.

I am blessed that when I had my little diverticulitis episode that I discovered it quickly and now it keeps me from nuts...so I am not tempted by the pecan pie that is sitting on the kitchen counter.

I am blessed that I discovered liquid glucosomine (thanks to Bacchus...he is good for more than wine). I hate the pills...they are nasty and huge...

I am blessed that I can (almost always) pass up dessert because I know that it won't do me any good...but I will eat it if it is worth it...

I am blessed that I remember to use the "salt trick" when I am confronted with a food at the table that I want a taste of, but not all of...I just dump salt on it (if I can't pass it off to someone else). With salt dumped on it, you won't pick at it. This works well at those luncheons and dinners we all have to sit through where they bring you course after course and most of it isn't very good...I take 2 bites of the dessert and then SALT IT...

I am blessed that I have found that I love fish more than I thought I did...

I am blessed that I have discovered that I can do things I didn't think I could do: with my mind, my body, and my spirit...

I am blessed that I can cook as many yummy HEALTHY things as the unhealthy stuff I used to cook...and they are sometimes even tastier...but no, there is no substitute for good queso...

I am blessed that I have lost 90 pounds and still want to lose more...

I am blessed that I haven't given up...

I am blessed that I want to keep going with this...

I am blessed that I kept some of my "thin" clothes and that I can get into some of them...but the cheetah print skirt is still an enigma to me...not sure if I will ever put it on again, but I might TRY it on sometime when I get to that size...

I am blessed that anyone reads this...

I am blessed because I really have too many blessings to count...

And most of all, I am blessed that I love and am loved...and sometimes love is all we need...

First, the recipe...then the song...

Here goes:

ALMOST FAT-FREE LOW-CAL PUMPKIN MOUSSE
(about 200 calories/serving...they are large...better than 400 for pie)

1 can pumpkin
1/2 cup low-fat milk
1 pkg. pumpkin spice flavored Jello pudding mix
1 container fat-free Cool Whip

Mix the pumpkin with the milk and the pudding mix. You can add a little vanilla if you want (I forgot...but I bet it would be better with it so that is why I am telling you to put it in...maybe a teaspoon...). Mix well. Gently fold in the Cool Whip. Put it in serving bowls. Put in the fridge. That's all...tastes like pie except no crust. Really good with some gingersnaps crumbled on top. Adapted from an Alton Brown recipe on the Food Network website.
And now...

Inspiration Song: "All You Need is Love" by the one, the only, the BEATLES. It feels right today...


Love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love.
There's nothing you can do that can't be done.
Nothing you can sing that can't be sung.
Nothing you can say but you can learn how to play the game
It's easy.
There's nothing you can make that can't be made.
No one you can save that can't be saved.
Nothing you can do but you can learn how to be you
in time - It's easy.

All you need is love, all you need is love,
All you need is love, love, love is all you need.
Love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love.
All you need is love, all you need is love,
All you need is love, love, love is all you need.
There's nothing you can know that isn't known.
Nothing you can see that isn't shown.
Nowhere you can be that isn't where you're meant to be.
It's easy.
All you need is love, all you need is love,
All you need is love, love, love is all you need.
All you need is love (all together now)
All you need is love (everybody)
All you need is love, love, love is all you need.


Happy Happy Thanksgiving, Darlings...count your blessings...we all have so many!

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Bulletproof Heart

OK, those of you who know me well know I DO NOT have a bulletproof heart...at least not emotionally!

Emotionally, no...I do not have a bulletproof heart. I cry at the drop of the hat. I am sooooooooooooooo emotional. I am the one leaving the movie in tears, I'm the one who cries at Hallmark commercials...I'm the one crying at the choir concerts.

And today my heart took a beating...because we are going to have to say goodbye to our precious, precious Patrick.

Patrick is my friend who was in a car wreck in October. Things are not good. He is not coming back to us. I am devestated for his family, especially his wife and daughter...

I have no words...

I'm crushed.

I've known him since he was a boy. He had a special relationship with my mother. His father and my dad were very close.

I cannot imagine not seeing him again. Not kissing him hello and goodbye. Not standing with my arm around him laughing at something. I can't imagine not seeing his incredible smile again.

And I am not his wife...I'm not family...I'm just a friend who loves him...

My bulletproof heart is broken.

Broken...

Strangely this day started off with proof that my heart, or at least my body, is better...getting bulletproof...

My doctor...the oh-so-lovely-should-be-on-tv-gorgeous doctor called to excitely tell me that indeed my inside is matching the outside.

My body is improving...

My cholesterol (overall) is down 109 points!

My triglycerides are down a whopping 198 points! (can I get an "amen" from the choir for this one?)

My HDL is up (as it should be when it improves)...I'm in the "good" range...approaching "very good"...

My LDL is way down...and in the good range...

My glucose is as it should be...

All my levels are "good and normal"...

no meds for me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(Another "amen" from the choir, please...)

Celebration was in order...but I kept myself in check and worked on preparing Thanksgiving food...

Stuffing made? check...

Turkey in the brine? check...

all items purchased (after 3 trips to the store)? check...

So all I need to do tomorrow is roast the turkey, warm the stuffing, zap the green beans and sweet potatoes, roast the brussel sprouts, and make the "creamy dreamies" (the mashed potatoes...a name from my sister S...).

Easy...

So after shopping and cooking I did a session with Coach Dimples and he worked me into a frenzied sweat and a mega-calorie burn. Thank you, Darling Coach Dimples...

As I was leaving I saw an email that I decided to ignore for fear...it was about Precious Patrick...

but once home I decided to look at it and saw the news...it is time to begin the process of saying goodbye to our friend...

So I had a thought about chardonnay...or going to the gym...

Texted Dimples and the gym won...I didn't need him, I needed an hour on the Cybex Arc Trainer and some music...

Push "play" on the new My Chemical Romance album...and off I went.

Dimples approved....the chardonnay came later at dinner....

I tried to clear my mind with the machine and the music but my brain stormed on as I tried to make peace with what was going on ...and my heartbreak for Patrick's family.

I will find ways to be thankful tomorrow...but tonight I am heartbroken for my friend and his family...he will be in a better place and he will be with his mother and my mother (who he called "his angel") but we will be left missing his smile, his humor, and his "Patrick-ness"...

How can a day that starts off so well end so badly?

My heart isn't bulletproof...it is broken...

I'll leave you with Coach's tip for me for handling tomorrow:
drink water and eat turkey first and enjoy the rest...

Goodness but I love that man...he even told me I don't have to log my food for tomorrow...love him even more...

Inspiration Song: "Bulletproof Heart" by My Chemical Romance...totally in love with their new album right now...love it love it love it...

Bye Darlings...blessings to all...

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

Do You Believe in Magic?

So, do you?

Believe in magic?

Because right now I need to...I want to...

And I pray that Coach Dimples is a wizard because he is going to need a magic wand to undo what I did tonight.

I ate pizza...

3 slices...

3 large slices...

cheese...

ARGH!

I've been doing so so so good...but tonight I gave into the the cheesey goodness of Fuzzy's pizza. The lava-like cheese almost burned my mouth...too bad it didn't because maybe I would have stopped.

I know what my mistake was (other than saying "no" to going to Fuzzy's)...I should have ordered a salad first and filled up on that.

2 slices arent' exactly behaving but 3 is going overboard and I feel kinda sick from it.

I will confess my sin to Coach when he trains me tomorrow...it will make him push me just that much further and harder...I feel several runs up the hill as punishment.

What is surprising to me is how GUILTY I feel about it. Not guilty towards my trainer...he doesn't really care what I eat because HE'S not eating it, but he is trying to help me stay on the right course so he makes me log my meals.

No, the guilt is that I let myself down.

I let myself get carried away by food when I knew I should have stopped at 2 and I knew that the 3rd piece was going overboard and I didn't really need it.

A year ago I would have had 4 pieces so I guess I should console myself with that.

And I had done so good...no popcorn at the movies, only half of my bun with my brisket sandwich at lunch...a brisket sandwich that was made with only lean cuts of the brisket, none of the fatty stuff...and cole slaw, not potato salad...and fruit as my snack....

And today I was feeling "thinner"...not "skinny" but "thinner".

The Cutest Boy in the World looked at me before we left for lunch and said:
"Who are you and what have you done with my mom?"

Wow do I love that son of mine...

I mean, I still have a belly and thunder thighs but they are way smaller than they were this time last year.

We went to see the new Harry Potter movie tonight. It was a great adaptation of the book and I really enjoyed it.

But the BEST part of the movie was not even in the movie...it was when I sat in my seat...and I wasn't squeezed in. My thighs didn't hit the sides of the chair. I didn't need/want to raise the armrest to make more room. I FIT in the chair.

I FIT IN THE CHAIR!!!!!!!!!!!!

Boy was that a great feeling...

And the movie itself was great. I love the Harry Potter movies. They are magical!

I used to want to be a witch...not a bad witch, but more like "Samantha" in "Bewitched". Just to twitch my nose and make something wonderful happen.

Or to have a magic wand that I could wave and make things happen...just like Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

Did I tell you I was Bellatrix LeStrange (a Harry Potter character---a real bad witch) for Halloween at GOTT and GOTTESS' party? GOTT was Lucius Malfoy---he looked just like him. It was an awesome party and I liked the fact that I got to look completely different.

I wore my old witch dress---it is 10 years old and I was pretty excited to get back into it.

But the hair was the hard part...because Bellatrix has wild, curly black hair.

And I hate wigs...

I mean, I really really really hate wigs...

So I sprayed my hair with black hair color...

Everyone was terrified it wouldn't come out.

I almost left it in for church the next morning, but it felt too nasty to go to bed with it so I washed it out when I got home. 3 shampoos later, it was out and I was back to blonde.

GOTT and GOTTESS were pretty happy to see that I was blonde again when I got to church the next morning. My friend Coach Cuteness saw the black hair at the party so he was surprised when I walked in with blonde, not purple or black, hair the next day.

I don't have a photo...but it was pretty awesome...and scary...

I'll not be doing that again!

The hair part, not the witch part...

Because, after all, I am a witch...sometimes...at least my children will tell you so...

So, do you believe in magic?

Because we all have magic in us...and we don't need magic wands to do it. We don't need pixie dust. We don't need spells, charms, or enchantments.

We make magic every day...

Because it is magic when you can make a child smile...

And it is magic when someone says "I love you"...

Magic happens when we do something for someone else for no reason other than to help...

Teachers make magic happen in the classroom when they get their students excited about learning...

Magic happens on the stage everytime children sing or dance or act...same with adults singing, acting, dancing...

And it is magic when we give our hearts...

But sometimes we need a little help to make magic happen...and I'm going to need some magical help from my trainer.

So I hope that Dimples is a wizard, because the pizza damaage is pretty extensive and right now I want to lose weight, not maintain...and he is bound and determined to help me do it.

So hopefully tomorrow he can look at me and say:

"Expeliamus!!!"

and make it go away...

Otherwise, I predict a lot of running up that damn hill...

Thank goodness he does it with me...or I might have to find my magic wand and say "Expeliamus" to him...and I would hate to do that...

Inspiration Song: "Do You Believe In Magic?" by The Lovin' Spoonful...because it is so fun and just one of the many songs with the word "magic" in it on my iPod...but this was the most appropriate...

So, do you believe in magic?

Bye darlings...

Monday, November 22, 2010

Angel



This is my cat...her name is "Angel". She is an applehead Siamese and the sweetest little thing. Right now she is asleep on the desk as I type this blog...

I got to thinking today that I have a lot of "Angels" in my life...not just my pretty little kitty cat.

I joined a sororoty in college---I am a proud member of Pi Beta Phi (shout out to my Texas Eta friends! And all Pi Phi Angels).

Pi Phi's "symbols" are an arrow...and an ANGEL...our colors are "wine and silver blue"

I wear Thierry Mugler "Angel" perfume...it is my favorite scent (I am fond of others...and right now Tom Ford Black Orchid is making a definite play for my attention).

Angel perfume comes in a star bottle...and the perfume itself is colored...silver blue...

makes sense to me that I love it...and today when I refilled my bottle (yes! you can refill Angel for 30% less than buying a new bottle...another reason I love it) I was once again struck by how angels are so in my life...

I have angels in Heaven looking out for me...Mom, Daddy, my Grandpa...and special angels like my friend D's niece who's birthday is just one day after mine...our names both start with "A" and we almost shared a birthday so I always had a special place in my heart for her...and sadly we lost her to cancer...she was on my mind this weekend...

My doctor is an angel. I saw her today and she was thrilled with my weight loss. I was actually happy to have blood drawn because I am curious to see if my "inside" is matching my "outside" in getting healthier.

I know my heart is better...my EKG showed a much improved resting heart rate (even Coach Dimples was impressed) and she was really excited about that.

Her support has been incredible and I loved being able to share with her that I "got it"...I "got it" for all the times she told me that if I ate better and excersised I could change my life. Showing her today that I have done that was really a high moment in all of this.

Now if only I could be as gorgeous as she is...people, she looks like a character from "Grey's Anatomy" or "Private Practice" except that she is a real bona-fide physician...

My trainer is an angel...he puts up with a lot of crap from me...today he pushed me to my limit and got me to take myself to a level I didn't think I could get to...and it doesn't hurt that he does the running with me and keeps me motivated and stays positive with me...good grief, he got me to RUN...he has to be heaven-sent or some kind of witch to do that...I hate hate hate to run...

My spin and gym instrutors are angels...I love love love them...they keep me going and working hard...

my Aunt Jane is an angel...she is...because she puts up with me...and saves me from myself...

I have always called Ke$ha Barbie "my Angel"...because even when she doesn't act like an angel, she is one in my eyes...

And The Cutest Boy in the World is an angel of a little man...

The teachers at my kids schools are angels...because a good teacher is a gift from god...I regularly want to polish the halos on them...

and you, my friends, are angels to me...not just my Pi Phi sisters...but all of you who love and support me...

And back to my precious little kitty...she was a stray that "found" us...she walked into our yard and never left. She seemed to drop out of heaven so we named her "angel". She once disappeared for 13 days and returned, like a gift from God, on my son's birthday. We thought she was gone for good but I looked out the window of the kitchen door and there she was, looking in, asking to come back inside her home. She was a little lost kitty but she found a way to trust us and became a part of us and we love her...

I'm a little like her...I lost myself for a while but I found a way to trust myself again that I could do this...I became my own angel...and now I let other angels help me...

You're my angel...come and save me tonight...

Who's your angel(s)? Let 'em know that they save you...

And be your own angel...

Inspiration Song: "Angel" by Aerosmith...my favorite band...

bye darlings...

Sunday, November 21, 2010

Raise Your Glass

So, a toast...

Raise your glass!

Mine happens to be my new Riedel Cabernet/Red stemless wine glass and it contains a nice (but not too much) amount of Molly Dooker "The Boxer" Shiraz (a Bacchus suggestion that I am very fond of).

Some of you may be reading this in the morning so I hope the only glasses you are raising are filled with orange juice or coffee...

But we can toast anyway!

So what are we toasting to?

No, I haven't reached my "significant" goal or anything special, but I want you to join me in a toast celebrating that I am starting off my---well, you don't really need the age number, do you?---ok, 46th year---and I am starting off year 46 as a much healthier woman than I was when I started year 45.

And I want to toast all of you who read this silly blog and who have supported me as I work my way back into becoming a thinner, healthier, stronger version of myself.

Let's call me:

Anice 4.0

because I have done this a few times...let's hope that the only improvements or changes I make to mayself after this are POSITIVE ones.

I had a lovely birthday yesterday...messages from facebook friends...lunch with my family (even Ke$ha Barbie graced us with her blonde presence)...shopped for the glasses with my daughter...had a yummy sushi dinner with my Aunt Jane and her friend Cute and Tiny (CAT)...and then had a celebratory cupcake with my friend D-"the other neice" (since a friend of ours likes to refer to us as the "Nieces" since our names end in -nice and -nise).

Yes, I got near the kryptonite...a CRAVE cupcake...had 1/2 a banana (I highly recommend it) and 1/2 a strawberry (always a favorite). I consider that a pretty clean getaway considering she had more to offer.

Of course I also should confess the 1/2 of a (large) piece of incredible pumpkin cheesecake at lunch at Pappadeaux. At least I had fish as my entree...

I have pre-warned Coach Dimples (via text) that he has some damage to undo...I'm sure he will insist on getting the full story from me as he punishes me tomorrow with a hundred thousand squats. That man is making me do things I never thought I would or could do...it must be the dimples and cute smile...

So what a difference a year makes...because a year ago I would have had at least 2 cupcakes (instead of 1/2 of each flavor) and eaten the whole piece of cheesecake and would have had fried crawfish or something equally dangerous for lunch.

As I type this I am watching Ke$ha (the real one) on the American Music Awards and it strikes me just what a year can do...a year ago she was probably watching this show on tv and now she is one of the headliners...your life can change in a year!

In the past year I have:

gone from a size 24 to a 14
lost 90 pounds
learned to eat "right"
learned to enjoy working out
returned to my beloved spin classes
gotten to renew my friendship with Spinderella (and have the jewelry to prove it)
made some new friends at the gym (J'taime Jamie and Jay-Vee)
traded vodka sweet drinks for heart-healthier (and lower calorie) red wine
had an a-ha moment climbing some stairs that got me to change my life
climbed 218 stone steps up a hill and survived
had an amazing reunion with my camp friends
hired a fantastic (and yes, very cute) trainer who is just what I need
watched my son have an UNDEFEATED football season
watched my daughter learn to drive, get a license, and then have a tiny wreck (with a schoolbus no less)
sat in a "your kid is college bound in less than 2 years" meeting that scared the heck out of me and broke my heart to realize that she is gone very soon
bought myself a new camera that truly makes me love taking photos
discovered some new wines thanks to my Bacchus
went from a 3XL to a size L t-shirt
costumed 4 shows for GOTT and TTG and had more fun each time I did it
celebrated GOTT's birthday with him and once again confirmed that I can't bowl
celebrated GOTTESS' birthday with her and once again confirmed that I can't sing
started this blog and learned that this is my therapy
begun an obsessive relationship with my scale
discovered that Living Proof Full shampoo really works...
got reaquainted with many old friends courtes of Facebook
discovered that I CAN do squats up a hill and not die (thank you, Dimples)
put on a dress that I bought 10 years ago and it fit
bought my first pair of boots in 9 years...so I bought 2...
wore those boots and had a good looking (YOUNGER!) man tell me I looked "hot"
had several people tell me that they didn't recognize me (because of the weight loss) and I hugged and kissed them for it
found out that Crave cupcakes are my kryptonite...so I avoid the kryptonite
discovered that I can turn myself over to someone else (like my trainer)who's sole purpose is to help me change myself...and I am grateful
and
realized that I have the power to change my body, my health and my life...and I don't need pills or surgery to do it...just a lot of hard work.

Tomorrow I have my annual physical...I am actually looking forward to seeing how my health has changed...I know my bloodwork will look better and my lovely doctor (she really is lovely...like a character from Grey's Anatomy) will be pleased that there is less of me to take care of.

There you have it...I'm sure I have learned more in this past year but between being very tired and the bit of wine, I'm all "thinked" out.

I'm grateful for my health and even though I am now 46 instead of 45 I feel younger and better and I am thankful to all of my friends and family and God for my health and well-being...and the strength to go forward and finish this journey.

So what will a year do for your life? How can you change things for the better?

Think about it...and raise your glass to YOURSELF for anything you do to improve your life...

Inspiration Song: "Raise Your Glass" by PINK! I love love love Pink and I love love love that song...I sorta consider it my theme song these days...LOL...

Bye darlings...

Thursday, November 18, 2010

Hurts so Good

Hurts so good?

notsomuch...

well, maybe...

yeah, I guess it does!

Actually, I am in a world of hurt right now thanks to Coach Dimples...and this morning I was in a world of hurt thanks to some excellent Veuve Clicquot Rose champagne that I was overserved last night at my friend's birthday bash.

So last night we celebrated the fact that my fabulous friend Pretty Patricia was having the anniversary of her 25th birthday...she is only 25...give or take...but bless her good genes she doesn't look it!

She hates surprises...and doesn't much care for birthday celebrations (she told me this)...so we had to have a surprise party, doncha think?

I didn't plan the party...actually, I was a late addition...my neighbor was hosting the party and she and the other hostess found out the other day that I am also friends with Pretty Patricia so I got invited to come and swill the champagne in honor of my friend and her anniversary of her birth.

Pretty Patricia and I are "new" friends...we spin together and recently discovered we have a lot in common and just "clicked"...she's already special to me...you know when you just know that someone is meant to be your friend? Yeah, that's her...and the other friends we have in common are some of my favorite people so I'm just surprised we haven't connected before.

I love making new friends as much as I love treasuring the old friends...in fact, this week a dear old friend (I should blog about her...her name IS a song title) is moving away from Texas and it breaks my heart to not have gotten to see her...but it gives me an excuse to travel to California. She let me perm her hair when we were in high school---that took guts on her part, and stupidity on mine. I was lucky she was still my "bestie" (best friend) after that...

so...old friends, new friends...all good friends...

Back to the fabu party...because it was fab-u-lous...

Pretty Patricia was surprised...the champagne and vodka flowed...my neighbor (the hostess) who I shall call "Extravanessa" (because she is extravagant in a totally fabulous way...not in a "spending" kind of way...but extravagant with her love, charm, and friendship!)is always the "hostess with the mostest"...so it was a great "women only" party...except for Javier who works for Extravanessa and was taking GREAT care of us ladies.

So...the Veuve Clicquot...mmmmmmmm....rose.....yummy...I mean, if you are going to overdo it with champagne, it might as well be a really really good one!

Bacchus approved this morning when I told him...I think he was a bit jealous...he was all like "Wow! You got the good stuff served to you...I hope you had all you could" (since he knew I only had to walk across the street and not drive). Then he suggested that I might need a bucket beside me at spin class---if I only had something I could have thrown at him to retaliate...he was, after all, insinuating that I looked "hung over"...bah! Which I was...a bit...just a tiny bit...

I am grateful that I did eat during the party...and no, I am not logging it, and yes, I told Dimples...like Bacchus, he just laughed at me...and suggested I not try it again. He was pleased that I managed to avoid eating a cupcake...but I did indulge in some very yummy salmon in cream sauce (I hate hate hate salmon, but this stuff was extraordinary...), rare filet, and asparagus with prosciutto, and of course the rose champagne...

So this morning when I woke up and drank my liver cleanse it is because my liver needed it...

And I managed to get all the way through spin class...no bucket needed...and burned off 350 calories and sweated out Rose Champagne and Tom Ford Black Orchid perfume.

And...

this afternoon Dimples punished me for another 350 calories and did his level best to push it as much as he could for calorie burn and heart rate.

A bajillion squats and lunges later (with weights in my hands) I can barely walk or sit...I even sent him an email to pat himself on the back for the excellent punishment he gave me today.

But unlike the bit of champagne pain this morning, THIS, the pain from the training session, does "hurt so good" because I know I worked myself to my limit and I let Dimples push me as hard as he could.

On second thought as I sit here I'm wondering how someone with such a fat caboose could hurt while sitting on it (and all the natural padding that the caboose has!).

I can't wait to see what he has in store for me next week...with Thanksgiving coming up I know I need to push hard...and I told him that he has been so sweet and patient and helpful with me that I might give up on one of my "I won't do this" rules...I will let him make me run...but he has to show me how to do it so I am really running and not looking like I am about to launch myself into a male dancer's arms...I run like a ballerina, not an athlete!

Thank goodness for Advil...

Inspiration Song: "Hurts so Good" by John Mellencamp...oldie but goodie and totally fitting...

bye darlings!

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

More

If you really want more, scream it out louder,
If you're on the floor, bring out the fire,
And light it up, take it up higher,
Gonna push it to the limit, give it more.


More on that later...

So....
OOOOO....Coach Dimples...he's good...he is worth every penny, every squat, every lunge, every drop of sweat he gets from me...

Because he is making a difference in me and my body...and it is good...and I want more...

He got over 3 pounds off me in a week (oh, let's call it 4 pounds because it probably is)...not by changing things up completely, but by tweaking what I was doing...and by working my tail off in my workouts with him.

And as a reward, I'm going to give him more...I'm giving up the control...he gets to drive, or maybe it's more like he is navagating and I'm driving but I can only go where he tells me to.

Yes, that means tomorrow...I rest...sort of...

I'm still doing my usualy daily stuff...just no visit to the gym or workout.

And I have to wear the heart monitor all day...even to bed. That will be a challenge to my claustrophobia...

But I will do it...because I'm putting my faith and trust in him...and I know he is going to take me down the right road, the right path, in the right direction.

I have a party to go to tomorrow night.

The heart monitor is NOT a fashion "do"...the watch part is a definite "don't". I'm trying to figure out what to wear so I don't look completely stupid with this thing strapped around my chest...because this is a "girl party".

You know what a "girl party" is, don't you?

Just girls...

which means we try much harder with the clothes and jewelry!

The pary is at a friend's house and she is KNOWN for her fabulous parties. I always have a great time at her shindigs and the best part is that she lives close enough to walk...good when I have been overserved...

She is truly the "hostess with the mostess"!

My mom was a great hostess. She threw great parties, especially when she and my dad were still married.

Our house on the ranch was sort-of a split-level...not in the traditional sense of "split level" houses, but there was a bit of up and down to it, but no real "upstairs and downstairs".

The living room was raised above the entry hall...you walked in the front door into a large entry area and up some stairs to the main part of the house (except bedrooms).

My sisters and I would sit in the living room and watch everyone come into the parties---the living room was "open" to the entry hall and just had a railing. We could see everyone...

The best was the wild Halloween party they had one year to celebrate my dad's birthday.

My dad was born one day too late...November 1...All Saints Day...he was NO saint...he should have been born on Halloween...it was more fitting.

The costumes everyone wore were pretty great...I remember Brahma Cheerleaders and football players, bloody surgeons (scrubs worn in an actual surgery), Grandma Florence was Mother Nature (I still remember her in that outfit), Lily Munster (that was one of the crazy CCC people), an accident victim, Gus wearing regular clothes but had a big pumpkin drawn on his stomach because he refused to wear a costume. My mom and dad were Fred and Wilma Flinstone.

The party lasted forever...I'm sure I haven't heard most of the best part of that party or others...someone will fess up sometime...

We had a lot of Sunday parties...I have blogged about them before...what I wouldn't give for one more day of swimming in the pool until my toes bleed, listening to the jukebox while Peyton cooks burgers and I watch my mom and the other women I love sunning themselves, drinking rose wine, and wearing curlers under their kerchiefs. Good times...good times...

My mother also hosted the annual Women's Club Christmas Tea at our house. I longed to be a "Bluebonnet" (a teenage member of the Women's Club) and get to put on a party dress and go to the Tea instead of just watching it.

She always served "spiced tea" which was really just Tang and instant tea with some sugar and spices...but it seemed very elegant at the time. Somehow I think if I put that on my food log that Coach Dimples would have something (negative) to say about it...too much sugar...

My mom loved to have bridge parties at our house...I never learned to play bridge. The closest I have come to attending a bridge party was either to serve the bridge lunch at the Junior League (that was the worst thing ever) or to go to a Bunco party (always fun...).

I'd like to entertain more...I'd like to be more like my mother. But after construction and 2 floods I still am not entirely put together in my house so I don't really feel like hosting a party.

And I'm not sure what I would serve since I only eat Fit Food or diet stuff or healthy stuff...I guess I need to relax a bit on that sort of stuff and just go with it...or be like my mom and cook with a bunch of butter and deal with it later...of course cooking with butter is what got me here in the first place...

I like butter...

And I am facing Thanksgiving and that means...butter. Every dish my mother cooked had butter in it...the turkey was basted in butter, the stuffing has a ton of butter, the potatoes oozed butter, the sweet potatoes had enough butter that you could taste it over the marshmallow topping. Butter...

But I want more for myself and more for my body...so I will cut back on the butter and maybe do just a baked sweet potato for myself (since no one else in my house eats them), and I will use yukon gold potatoes for the "creamy dreamy" mashed potatoes so they will need less butter and I am trading in green bean casserole for roasted brussels sprouts. And honestly, the stuffing doesn't need POUNDS of butter, just enough for flavor...and I don't need to stuff myself with stuffing anyway.

I'm close to a goal...close to moving the "big" bar again (that means another 50 pounds gone!) and I want to say my weight starts with a "1" and not a "2"! So Thanksviging will be a challenge but just like my tough workouts with the Coach, I can push myself to do a little more to get a little more out of it...he doesn't let me give up on myself and he doesn't give up on me (even when I am late to our workouts like I was today). Why should I give up on me?

My mother wouldn't...she'd just throw me a party...and tell me to where her sexy dress...and go for more!

Inspiration Song: "More" by Usher. Honestly I found this song in Body Pump class...it is the ab/core track and it keeps me going so much there that I put it on my iPod and use it for my cardio now. The chorus really gets me going and it really says it all:

If you really want more, scream it out louder,
If you're on the floor, bring out the fire,
And light it up, take it up higher,
Gonna push it to the limit, give it more.

Monday, November 15, 2010

My Best Theory

I worked out today despite the pulled muscle in my glute...no one told me not to so I did...hurts less today than yesterday but I'm not sure what Coach Dimples is going to do to me tomorrow so I may end up in traction...but I will confess the pulled muscle to him before he works me out.

So why all this talk about the glute being pulled and me not able to stop myself from working out?

I've given it a lot of thought over the past 24 hours and I have formulated a theory about it all.

Warning: some 4-letter words in this blog may offend some of you...

Let's start with THEORY:

From dictionary.com:

the·o·ry   /ˈθiÉ™ri, ˈθɪəri/ Show Spelled[thee-uh-ree, theer-ee] Show IPA
–noun,plural-ries.
1.a coherent group of general propositions used as principles of explanation for a class of phenomena: Einstein's theory of relativity.
2.a proposed explanation whose status is still conjectural, in contrast to well-established propositions that are regarded as reporting matters of actual fact.
3.Mathematics. a body of principles, theorems, or the like, belonging to one subject: number theory.
4.the branch of a science or art that deals with its principles or methods, as distinguished from its practice: music theory.
5.a particular conception or view of something to be done or of the method of doing it; a system of rules or principles.
6.contemplation or speculation.
7.guess or conjecture.


Ok, I'm not here to give an English lesson but I needed to start out with where I am coming from...because I have a theory about where I have been and where I am going and since I can't say for a FACT what is going to happen, it is THEORY...

What I am theorizing about is not so much WHY and HOW I got so fat, but WHY I have control issues...which is what led to me getting fat so I guess they are hand-in-hand.

THEORY: I have control issues. I have these issues because of my upbringing. I have trouble giving control over to anyone else so therefore I am not an easy person to deal with.

FACT: my father was a control freak and tried to control me
FACT: my mother did the opposite because she thought it would make me prefer her
FACT: I am the oldest of 9 children and told (always) that I had to be perfect
FACT: I had a step-mother that tried to control me as a means of controlling my father
FACT: my childhood pretty much sucked after my parents divorced

Oh, poor me...

Poor, poor me...

bullshit!!!!

I had it way easier than other kids. I lived on a beautiful ranch. We had money. I got to travel. And despite the craziness, I had loving parents...

I wasn't ill...and no one else was really sick although my mother was bi-polar. So no cancer, no "just scraping by", no living in tenament housing.

I don't really have much to complain about...

except for the pressure...the pressure to be perfect...both brought on by my father and by myself.

But...

I always felt I never had free will...and I had to be perfect...and I had to lead a good example...and I had to be...had to be...had to be...had to be whatever was demanded of me...

I rarely got to make a decision for myself and when I did, I was usually told I was wrong...or it wasn't the right thing to do...or I should change what I had done.

All children experience it.

But my father took away my choices and my freedom so much that when I got to college I went a little (a lot) crazy.

No one was telling me what to do...and if I didn't want to hear it, I just didn't answer the phone!

I settled down after a bit but for a while I was doing my level best to feel, taste, try and experience everything that had been denied me.

Some choices were very bad---smoking, drinking...

others led me to grow stronger...

But I have never rid myself of the need to be "perfect" except for with my body...

And I let my body go...because it was so much easier to just let that go than anything else...

So I gained 150 pounds.

That is more than most of you weigh...

So now I see myself as someone who needs to have control of my life...my body...my health...my future.

I have a confession to make...I've become a slave to my scale. Sometimes I weigh myself more than once a day. Sometimes I weigh myself more than twice a day. Those numbers are becoming increasingly important to me as I approach a goal...a goal that will get me from my weight starting with the number "2"...

I get on that scale and will it to go down. I let that number determine what I eat and whether or not I am going to work out. If the number is down, I feel like I am doing good and need to stay the course. If the number is not down, I feel like I need to work harder.

This is craziness!

I know it borders on obession and some sort of disorder...really, I do...I'm not making light of it right now...this is a confession.

So that is why I am looking to others to help me with this...and right now it is poor Coach who is getting to do the heavy lifting. I told him the other day that he proably didn't realize that he was getting to be my therapist along with being my personal trainer but frankly I think the two go hand-in-hand.

I always need to be in the driver's seat...or telling the driver where to go...

But sometimes we need to let someone else help us...and that is hard for me.

And I have a hard time breaking my pattern of doing things that I think will get me where I want to go. I don't like to ask for help...I usually just do it myself. And I bully others into letting me help them.

Sometimes it works...I bullied my way into GOTT's life and work and I think he is ok and good with that...at least he tells me so daily so I believe him...

But why am I so afraid to NOT get on the scale? (Dimples told me to put it away)
Why am I so afraid NOT to workout on a given day? (Dimples told me to take a day off---but he didn't tell me WHEN)
Why am I so afraid to eat something that might not be "just right"? (Dimples thinks I might not be eating right...and not ENOUGH)

I am not turning my life over to my trainer...nor does he expect me to or has asked me to...nor is it a condition of my training...so it's not HIM...

It's ME...

I need to trust myself and my body that I can do this and move forward. I can make myself look and feel better but, as Dimples put it, the pyramids weren't built in a day so this is taking some time. And it is going to take more time than I want, but that is the way it is.

I am not a patient woman.

So what does the future hold for me?

Hopefully a size 8...

But I also hope it holds:
lower cholesterol
stronger heart
a fitter body
a longer life

But I might need to let someone else help me get there and I might need to listen to my body and take some time off every once in a while...and I might need to let go of a little control for the sake of getting to my goal since I don't know everything.

I know there isn't a lot of inspiration here...just me whining...but it is therapy to me to write this and examine myself in this way...and it is cleansing...

So Wednesday, I am taking the day off from working out...and I will wear the dreaded heart monitor all day...and I might even not get on the scale 2 or 3 times that day...and I will be ok with it...

And that size 8?

I theorize that I will be in it...someday...

It's not the destination...I'm in this for the journey...thanks for riding shotgun with me on this!

Inspiration Song: "My Best Theory" by Jimmy Eat World...totally love that song...especially the chorus and the line "my best theory is already in me"...here are the lyrics...great song...

It's been a long time, so long
There's only one life I know (I know)
But I have my own mind
I'll say so if it seems right

(Hey rush out)

I see your warm face with the soft mouth
But it speaks something else (else)
I'll take my chances with the cast down
We can feel the air

Rush out, out from the center
Not like one side is any better
Stand up as they've been preaching
My best theory is already in me
(already in me) In me

(We can feel, we can feel the air
Rush out)

So many questions
And the answers come back unanswered
(unanswered anekatips)
Let's hold the old script
It's a new twist
You can feel the air

Rush out, out from the center
Not like one side is any better
Stand up as they've been preaching
My best theory is already in me
(already in me)

In a lonely real place
Neither part nor mistake
Not what you had with your time

My doubt seems fine, my true desire
My threat, my appetite
http://www.elyricsworld.com/my_best_theory_lyrics_jimmy_eat_world.html

My true desire

I feel the air!

Rush out, out from the center
Not like one side is any better
Stand up and escape and breach it
My best theory is already in me
Rush , out from the center
Not like one side is any better
Stand up as they've been preaching
My best theory is already in me
(In me)


Bye darlings...

Sunday, November 14, 2010

Ain't No Rest for the Wicked

I need to take a day off...I know I do.

But I don't want to...

And I may be forced to.

Because today, as I dismounted the spin bike (after giving myself a particularly hard and nasty ride since there were no classes)and did my stretches (which I never do on my own), I decided to stretch my left leg a l-i-t-t-l-e higher...

And I felt something akin to a rip...

maybe not quite a rip, but a defnite pull...in my left glute...

UGH!

But it hurts like the dickens and I guess I am going to need to give it a rest...but I'll see what tomorrow brings.

I'll confess it to Coach Dimples (my trainer) and see what he says...maybe he won't make me do lunges or squats...a girl can hope, can't she? But I'm going to bet he will either say I have to do them or we need to lay off.

Time will tell...

He told me I need a day off anyway. He wants me to wear the heart monitor for a day to see what my calorie burn is on a day I don't work out.

I'm claustrophobic and can't wait to get that thing off from around my chest when I wear it just for excercise so I'm not sure I can handle it.

But if he tells me to do it, I will...

I don't understand why I am so compliant with that man... he tells me to do lunges, squats, wear a heart monitor and I do it...but I will still draw the line at running/jogging and jumping jacks...and catching a ball.

And he wants a food log...at least I keep one of those anyway.

And yes, I have confessed the wine...all of it...

Because he told me to.

I don't really want to take a day off (because I actually enjoy my workouts) but I don't mind doing what he says because he has jump started my weight loss again and is kicking me up to the next level (like I asked him to) so what's a girl to do?

Mind the trainer?

Mind my body?

I guess I just need to CHANGE my mind and let someone else guide me for a bit instead of always being in control.

I'm not good at handing over the reigns...unless it is a horse and you know that me + horses = not a good thing so I hand over HORSE reigns.

But handing over my will/desires/wants to let someone tell me what to do?

notsomuch

But I know it is for my own good. And I know not taking a day off in almost 3 weeks has to be wearing my body down...and maybe that is why I pulled a muscle.

But I know myself too well and I know tomorrow morning I will get up and put on my workout gear and head to the gym. I guess Dimples is going to have to just tell me to take a particular day off so I will do it...

Giving over control is an issue in our house...none of us are very good at it.

Right now my son is in an orthopedic boot due to an ankle injury he got at a practice meet for the world's stupidest sport---wrestling. You will get to read a wrestling blog very soon...

Coach Dimples loved pointing out that The Cutest Boy in the World (TCBITW...my son) wasn't hurt on his watch. He has a point...

So TCBITW twisted an ankle and wasn't able to walk for a few days...and then he decided he could walk well enough to go on his class trip to Mo Ranch. Thankfully he was under the watchful eye of my friend Coach Cuteness (I call him that 'cause he's cute and a real sweetheart...and has dimples but that name is already taken), Bacchus, and the rest of the 7th grade team. He climbed Enchanted Rock, he went into caves, and he took a "hard hike" (Bacchus' term---he was leading my son on the hike but I think it was a hard hike because he got them lost and they were scrambling).

We took TCBITW to the orthopedic doc on Friday and he put him in a boot.

A boot he won't wear...

wonder where he gets that from?

Bonus to the trip to the doc: he's the same doc who cut on me twice for my meniscus so he was really happy to see I had dropped some weight...

So what do I do?

Take a day off tomorrow to let my glute muscle rest or stretch it in a workout?

I know it doesn't hurt to take time off...and I know one day without the gym won't make me gain weight...and I know that my body needs time to rest and recover...

but the scale bar is sliding down and I'm getting close to a goal (ooooo...shopping! my reward for this goal is a handbag and a holiday outfit...although a new phone might win...)

I get really OCD with this stuff...the last time I dropped a lot of weight I got so obsessed with spinning that I signed up for this crazy challenge that basically followed what the terrain of the Tour de France. In other words, if Day 4 was a "mountain" day, then day 4 of the challenge was all steep climbs...and if day 12 was a flat-road day, then day 12 of the challenge was all flat (no big tension on the bike to simulate a climb) and fast.

The first day of the challenge was a 3 hour...yes 3 HOUR...spin class on a Sunday. It was the same day as the first game the Texans had in Reliant Stadium. I did the class and then cleaned up and then literally went to the game, sat down in my seat and promptly fell asleep. I think I snored...

I was in a roaring stadium but was so wiped out that I fell asleep...and snored...

I've done 2 hours on the elliptical before...and I will do back-to-back classes at the club...like I said, I become obsessed and it starts to get me antsy if I don't follow the rules and path I have set for myself.

I just wish I had done this 5 years ago...

And I worry that I will crash and burn like I did the last time...except that this time I am not on diet pills and I don't have any more parents to lose/mourn so I think this time I have straighted myself out for good.

But I don't really know what to do about tomorrow

Guess I will have to ask my trainer...and I will comply...

maybe...

I guess it is a battle of the wills...and it is not that he is MAKING me, it is whether I can give myself over to him enough to let him help and guide me.

I trust him.

But do I trust myself?

Stay tuned...

Inspiration Song: "Ain't No Rest for the Wicked" by Cage the Elephant...my son totally approves...

Thursday, November 11, 2010

Black Heart Inertia

The following is copied from wikipedia:

Inertia is the resistance of any physical object to a change in its state of motion or rest. It is represented numerically by an object's mass. The principle of inertia is one of the fundamental principles of classical physics which are used to describe the motion of matter and how it is affected by applied forces.

Inertia...
the resistance (my will/my body)
of any physical object (me)
to change (what I am trying to do)
in its state (not to be fat and out of shape)
of motion (I am constantly moving! spinning! walking! training!)
or
rest (what the heck is that? rest? you mean the couple of hours I lay down?)

I never took physics...

Ke$ha Barbie is in HONORS physics. She loves it...

I never took a class in it, but I do "get" what some of the principles of physics are and I somewhat understand them.

This comes from physicsclassroom.com:

Inertia and Mass
Newton's first law of motion states that "An object at rest stays at rest and an object in motion stays in motion with the same speed and in the same direction unless acted upon by an unbalanced force." Objects tend to "keep on doing what they're doing." In fact, it is the natural tendency of objects to resist changes in their state of motion. This tendency to resist changes in their state of motion is described as inertia.


Trust me...I get Newton's first law...because when I am at rest I want to stay at rest as long as possible!

As for the staying in motion with the same speed and in the same direction part...well, it doesn't take an unbalanced force to get me to slow down, stop, complain, whine, fuss, or just generally drag my rear when it comes to a workout.

Now I know you don't read this blog to get a physics lesson, but it does apply to working out...and what I have been doing with myself these last couple of days.

Because I have had some real "light bulb" moments...

And I am talking about high-wattage light bulb moments...

Light Bulb moment #1:
Coach Dimples.
He rocks...he really does...even if he is totally killing me and my quads. Because, my friends, they really really really hurt right now. Because he is killing me. But in a good way. He has me doing some of the craziest things, but boy can I feel it. And he is making me sweat---and swear---and want to just drop on my mat and beg for a nap. But he keeps me going and he really is the perfect person to take me to the next level in my fitness and its nice to have someone guide me on this journey that can make me work so hard that I hurt---and I don't want to kill him for it so he is doing it right. And because I am in this kind of pain I have come to realize that maybe I am not working as hard as I should be when I work out. Which leads me to...

Light Bulb Moment #2
Body Pump is good, but I need to work harder at it.
I have never made myself sore from Body Pump. Even with the new 5 minute squat track. So I don't think I am putting enough weight on or going deep enough with some of my squats, lunges, or lifts. Because Dimples got me in pain without putting any weight in my hands...just the squats and lunges. I complain endlessly to him about them...and I can tell you that when he made me lunge up the hill I was ready to tackle him (he is, after all, also a football coach so tackling would be appropriate). And then today I had another "light bulb" moment in Body Pump which is...

Light Bulb Moment #3
The Damn Heart Monitor is a blessing and a curse.
So I got the heart monitor because my trainer says I need it. I sprang for one that will "record" so Dimples and I can tell how hard I am working, how hard I worked, how many calories I burned, and what my average heart rate was during the workout. He gets me to burn almost 300 calories in about 40-45 minutes. When he aksed me how much I burn doing cardio I (rather smugly) told him that I burn 700-1000 calories in an hour according to the machine and what I have been able to tell by plugging information into a "calorie burn" algorithm (here I go with science again---Dimples gave me the word). I thought it was correct. I thought it was right.

WRONG

WRONG

WRONG

The heart monitor is more accurate. And here is where it got really depressing for me today---I'm not buring 700 calories in a cardio session. I worked my arse off today in 48 minutes of spin and I did just over 300 calories. This is with my height, weight, and age plugged into the monitor. Remember, this thing calculates off of your heart rate which is directly related to how hard you are working.

UGH!

Double UGH!

Body Pump was barely 200.

Triple UGH!

The good news---it makes me work harder when I see my heart rate...

The bad news---I wasn't burning what I thought I was...

so bummed...

My only consolation is that now I know the truth. (At least that is what Dimples told me when I sent him a very fussy whining email about it all). And I told him that I know that he knew that I wasn't burning as much as I thought I was but he let the monitor tell me that and he didn't...guess he gets a kidney from me if he needs one for being one of the only men I ever met that didn't instantly want to tell me I was wrong when I was wrong and wasn't smug about it.

GOTT is usually pretty good about it (like 95% of the time).

Precious and Adorable History Teacher also qualifies but I'm usually the one telling him what to do instead of vice-versa so he is not often presented with the opportunity to inform me that I am screwed up...and I think he is too precious and adorable to do so. Bacchus never misses an opportunity to correct me...no kidney for him...but I do love and adore him...but no kidney...

So that is 3 men...they all get kidneys...except I only have 2.

I guess Dimples is better at talking "woman" than I thought he would be (because he talks "coach" so well). Because only a man that understands a stubborn woman like me would refrain from saying "nah nah nah nah nah...you are wrong...the machine is wrong...the algorithm is wrong...you are screwed!".

He let me figure it out on my own...with the help of the heart monitor...

Damn...he's good...

even if as I type out this blog my quads are screaming in pain because he likes to make me lunge/squat up a hill...

he is good...

and so is the heart monitor...

Go and get one...it makes a difference...just like a good trainer, it will make you work harder, push further, go the distance!

Inspiration Song: "Black Heart Inertia" by Incubus...love that song...great beat changes that make it fun to use for spin/elliptical/arc trainer. Put it (and your heart monitor) on and go!

One last thing...hug a veteran today! They did something most of us are unwilling to do...and we are all enjoying freedom because of it.

Bye Darlings!

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Moon River

FMGC Reunion Blog---Part 2...about one month late! But I am finally able to write it...

So where did I leave off?

Oh yes...

218 steps

218 steps up Old Baldie (the mini-mountain/big hill)

So we get down from the hill/mountain and realize that we have a lot further/longer to walk to get back to the campsite than we have time for...because they are holding lunch for us.

Someone got out their cell phone and made a call and about 10 minutes later 3 cars showed up to pick up the crazy ladies...at least we weren't 15 women piled in the back of a Dodge Ram pickup truck...

Here's the best part...I got to ride in MB's car. Now I don't know why that is such a big deal to me but for some reason I remember thinking I wanted to ride in her car when she was my counselor. So she shows up and I go running straight to HER car because by damn I was going to ride in HER car!

I sat in the back with Tink and just kept saying "I am riding in MBR's car!"...it was just joy...and I don't know why...

So we get back to the camp and eat lunch and then it was time to go to the REAL Friday Mountain Girls Camp property.

For some reason everyone took off without Jane and I...thank goodness for cell phones...we caught up pretty quickly...

After a wrong turn or two we ended up where we needed to be...

Hallowed ground...

FMGC

Friday Mountain Girls Camp!

The cabins were gone but the owner of the property had restored the "Big House" (where we ate) and...

and I still can't believe this as I type it...

the Nature cabin was still standing!

That old thing was old and dilapidated when I was a camper so it is truly a miracle (or Act of God) that it is still standing.

The pool is still there...

Tennis courts and flagpole and gymnastics area are no longer there but...and again I can't believe this as I type this...

the bell was still there!

And yes, we all took turns ringing it.

So we began to wander around...each of us lost in our own thoughts and memories.

Tears flowed freely...laughter abounded...lots of hugging and holding...

Inside the Big House the new owner had pulled out some old photos he had...and the cabin signs for many of the cabins were up on the wall.

I stepped outside to see Elizabeth rocking in a chair...in tears...overwhelmed with love for the place we all called "home" for a few weeks each summer.

The screen door slammed behind me...we both jumped a bit and smiled...and then I said:

"Isn't that the BEST SOUND EVER?!?!!?"

She said: "Do it again"

So I did...over and over...and MB did it with me. It made many of us tear up to hear that sound of the door...because we could remember walking through it to get our meals and hearing it shut behind us until the next girl grabbed the door.

We set out for the creek and the horse lot and the place where we had church every Sunday.

I cried at each spot...except that thankfully the horselot shed was gone and it was really over the fence and I wasn't technically standing in the horse lot...and it made me cry with memories of my horrible riding...and the Eagle Drill...

We stood where we had church...it is truly a place of God...so beautiful and peaceful...and I could hear the prayers of our pasts as we sat there...I could hear the beautiful voices of our younger selves worshipping God and being grateful for that very very special place.

Many of us took off our shoes and waded in the creek.

The first thing I did:
LOOK FOR LEECHES

For some stupid reason I was terrified of leeches...and there where leeches on the sides of the crossing (which is gone now) and leeches in the water. I was totally terrified that a leech was going to get on me. The Daddy-Long-Legs never scared me and I wasn't worried about scorpions (although someone was stung in the cabin every year) but I was really afraid a leech was going to suck out all my blood.

It was a stupid fear...

I reminded Julie (the camp director and one of the greatest influences on my life) of my silly fear...she just laughed...I felt like I was confessing to my mom...it was great...even if I was confessing a totally irrational fear!

So off went the shoes and into the creek I went...the water felt good...it felt special...as it ran over my feet I was 15 again...standing in the water during Nature period...and I was worried about the leeches...but I got over it...and no, I never saw a leech...

We went to the riflery range...now it wasn't TECHNICALLY the riflery range that I shot it because the range got moved the last few years of camp...but it was still the FMGC riflery range.

I had a cell signal there...

So I updated my facebook status (I don't "tweet") and put:
At the FMGC riflery range with MBR!!!!

Best. Status. Update. Ever.

Because I was at the riflery range with my beloved counselor...and I was so happy knowing that the reason she didn't come back after my first year of camp was not my fault! (because her dad made her get a real job)

So we headed back to the main part of the camp...I walked with Jane and my friend Tracy...we took our time.

When we got to the pool Tracy and I spontaneously burst into tears...I don't know why but we just cried and held each other and it was a very perfect moment. I love her!

It was about time to leave...we walked around once more...

and then...

we had...

FRIENDSHIP CIRCLE

in the exact spot we had friendship circle every night at camp...

I got to hold Julie's hand...I bragged about it to everyone in the cirlce:

"Look at me! I get to be next to Julie!!!!!!!!!!!!"

because that was a very coveted thing to do when you were at camp...

We started to sing "Friday Mountain" and about 3 words in tears were streaming down my face...and I wasn't the only one...

the boo-hoos were audible...

I'm not sure there was a dry eye among us!

I'm not sure anyone was still singing the song except Mary Jo and her beautiful voice (she is my new best friend...love love love her!)

It was a truly spiritual moment...and unless you were there, it is hard to understand and I can't fully or properly describe it...but I will treasure that moment for the rest of my life!

And then someone had the bright idea to take a photo...there was a lot of runny mascara at that point but we piled on the porch of the Big House and took the photo anyway.

And then it was time to leave...

That was the hardest thing of all..to leave...because that property is sacred ground to the girls of FMGC and having one last chance to step on the porch of the Big House, one last time to ring the bell, one last look into the pool, one last glimpse of Friday Mountain (the mountain) was very very very special.

So off we went...but we had another special thing to do...we went to see Uncle B!

Now Uncle B was our own very special Nature Guy...and I love him even if he made me touch a tarantula. Uncle B lives in a nursing home in Dripping Spring and is over 100 years old.

When they wheeled him out to us I think he was a little overwhelmed and not too sure about who we were and why we were there. But then he "woke up" a bit and started talking and telling us stories...

and he remembered...

and he told us a few secrets that we never knew and even had Tink run up and get his stuffed (taxidermy) pygmy skunk. We had a grand time with him...

And then we sang to him and I know at that moment he felt more love than he had in a long time...because we all poured our love into that song and I pray that he will, when he goes to Heaven, know that he was an angel on earth to many girls...

even if he made us hold a tarantula...

We got back to the camp in Wimberley and had dinner and then had a grand campfire and roasted s'mores and sang songs...and drank some wine...some of us did...

And I said goodbye to Miss Annette and showed her how I could still do a "develope" (a ballet move). I can't wait to see her at the next reunion!

Then it was lanyard making time...

yes, it was late at night but we made lanyards!

and drank some more wine...

and took showers and sat in pajamas making lanyards and all of us coveted Elizabeth's reading glasses with the headlights on them...

Now how crazy is that?

Because one moment we were all 15 years old and the next we want reading glasses that light up!

So we stayed up late and had another fun night and drifted off to bed knowing that the next day would bring the pain of goodbye.

We got up, had breakfast, and packed up...it was truly like the last day of camp...

We took a lot of photos...I will treasure them...

Saying goodbye to Julie was as painful as ever so I was really happy that I got to leave the camp and then have lunch with her and some other friends from the reunion.

And my friend Mimi met me at the restaurant and I got to spend time with her...which was glorious since she wasn't at the reunion.

So there it is...my recap of the reunion.

And I can't wait until the next one...literally I wish it was this weekend because I could do it all again tomorrow...even the 218 steps!

So thank you to Sue and Tracy for organizing and for my Aunt Jane for coming with me and for all of the friends that were there...I love you all...

Because Friday Mountain Girls Camp was much more than a camp...

it was a safe place for us

it was "home" for us

it was a place we could be our true selves

it was a place where you might be a Wrangler or Buckaroo but first and foremost you were a camper

it was a place that for 2, 3, or 4 weeks you were surrounded by more than friends...you were surrounded by girls you had a deeper bond with...

it was a place that our hearts soared, our spirits ran free, and where the best part of ourselves shone like a beacon...

it was...more than a camp...more than a group of cabins...

it was...the best place on earth

and for 5 summers I was there...but my spirit still lives there and the lessons I learned at camp and the friends I made and the memories in my heart will forever imprint my life...and my Friday Mountain friends all share the same feeling.

Friday Mountain...calling back to me...

I may not be able to go back to the campsite...but I will forever be able to be a Friday Mountain girl!

Inspiration Song: "Moon River"...the FMCG girls know exactly why...