Project Fear Less: Post The First

It could will happen.  via

I had been thinking about the topic of my last post for a long time before I wrote it.  The culmination was simply that day when I kept whining about being scared and weak like I had been for freaking ever and suddenly got all meta about it.  But it had been in the back of my mind for some time, and I kept half-thinking that it would be kind of a cool idea to act on that quote from one of my namesakes:

"Do one thing every day that scares you."

At first, when the idea emerged, I thought it would be too unrealistic and unsustainable - I'm not scared of THAT many things, right?  Um.  Well.  Upon reflection...yeah.  Below is a partial list of just some of the stuff I can think of right now:

1. I'm scared of being upside-down - doesn't matter how far I am from the ground.  Even downward dog in yoga makes me nervous.
2. I'm scared of falling.
3. I'm scared of speaking up in class.
4. I'm scared of asking this one person to hang out because he'll misinterpret it as flirting and I honestly just want to have a really good conversation.
5. I'm scared of being by myself in the woods at night.
6. I'm scared to ask for a raise even though I'm amazing at my job, am frequently complimented by my bosses and have been there almost a year.
7. I'm scared to go to new places alone.
8. I'm scared to walk around my neighborhood (let alone run in my exercise shorts).
9. I'm scared to get rid of a lot of the knick-knacks and objets d'art I've collected over the years because I feel like they hold my memories better than my brain can.  But now I have boxes full of stuff in a tiny apartment with one 1x3 closet.
10. I'm scared to practice any of the parkour-y stuff I'm beginning to learn on my breaks at school because PEOPLE WILL SEE ME and presumably...laugh?  Or something.
11. I'm scared of writing back to my friend because it's been way too long since she's written to me and I'm afraid she hates me now.  So I do what I always do in these situations and stall even more.
12. I'm scared of hitting "Publish" on this post because it got a lot more personal than I was expecting it to, and the internet can be cruel.

I can give you an embarrassingly large number of other examples...but you get the picture.

So now that I have the fodder, what's the plan?  It's dazzlingly simple: take the words of that other brilliant Eleanor at face value, and do (at least) one thing every day that scares me.  It could be something as small as attempting to walk backwards up the wall into a handstand, which scares the ever-loving piss out of me because my brain suddenly screams "OH MY GOD THERE IS NOTHING BENEATH YOUR FEET YOU ARE GOING TO FALL OFF THE WORLD" and then I fall over.  But hopefully that's not going to happen.  It could be as big as planning a solo overseas trip, which stupidly enough scares me way less than the thought of being inverted.  But at least one thing.  Every day.  Doesn't have to be unique, just has to get the butterflies going.

DAY 1:  Today I hollered at a class of 60+ people to shut up while the professor was talking.  And when I say holler, I mean holler.  I can be loud when I want to be.

DAY 1 BONUS:  Today I stepped between two rocks that were 5ish feet off the ground, jumped between two more rocks that were farther apart than I honestly thought I could make and swung under a rail multiple times without re-tearing my labrum, as my brain assured me would instantly happen.

That's all for now.  Keep me honest, people - bug me if I don't post.  Yes, I mean that seriously.

What scares you?

-N

Then and now

So today I spent an absolutely insane amount of time working on physics problems with my lab partner, John. John's a cool dude with a lot to say, so we get along pretty well despite the fact that he's a Republican (but a very good-natured one, if you can imagine such a thing!).  Amidst all the discussion on Kirchhoff's rules for circuits, the conversation drifted a bit, mostly so we wouldn't go insane.  One of the impetuses (not impeti, I looked it up) for a conversational tangent happened to be a girl with a shaved head who had just walked out of the room.  I told him "you know, my hair used to be nearly that short!" and he was all "um what, nuh-uh it wasn't!"  So of course I had to provide photographic evidence.  This was taken way back, about a year ago.

oh, R2-D2 phone.  how I miss you.

He saw this picture and did a double-take.  "Wow!  You weren't kidding, that's crazy short!"

"Yeah, the sides were buzzed but the top was long enough to spike up.  Man, I loved that cut..."

"You look like kind of a badass there!"

Fellas, take note.  If you know a lady who does lifting, parkour, rugby, martial arts or some other hobby or lifestyle that you find impressively hardcore, or if she just looks like a badass, tell her so!  It will win her heart, guaranteed.  Of course, the lion's share of my heart still belongs to The Man, but there's always room for people who think I'm a badass :)

Of course that made me perk right up.  I got to talk a little about my glory days last summer, lifting and hiking and swimming in the Eno and running barefoot and the not-then-totally-ridiculous idea of training to be a traceuse.  And then it was back to the Loop Rule and the Junction Rule and C=Q/V and all the various equations used to find power.  And TWO MORE HOURS ON A SINGLE PROBLEM.  Gah.

When I got back to the house, on a whim, I decided to take another picture in the same location and approximately the same pose, just for comparison's sake.  Here it is:

Here are the things I noticed, in order of the noticing:
1. My face and neck look thinner.
2. My hair is longer.
3. I'm paler.
4. I'm not smiling.
5.  The striped shirt lends a bit of a French air, but it's distinctly not the wicked cool nouveau homme des cavernes look.
6.  I am no longer a badass.

I just spent a long few minutes tugging on my hair and pondering all of this - the reasons why my badassery went out the window, the steps I can take to get it back, all the shit I still have to do that drains my time and my strength and my mental capacities.  The fact that my first thought was "Now I'm skinnier and therefore prettier!" despite the fact that my physical state is way, way below what it was and should be, regardless of what my neck looks like.  Other photos (not to be shared) reveal the fact that my abs do not match the trend of my face at ALL, anyways.

Right now I have to keep studying for a chemistry exam that I have tomorrow.  This post is mainly just to put a bug in my own ear about these ideas - what I had and was, what I lost, what I gained, what I can do now.  I'm going to have my first break from everything in a while early next week, so I'm hoping to get some pondering (and posting) done then. 

For now, what do you think?

-Nelly

Surgery is not nearly as fun as it sounds

So.  I'm out of the hospital and fairly lucid, despite this heavy-duty shit I'm taking every four hours.  (PS: I'm gonna say that's the reason I might be a little more foul-mouthed in my writing than usual.  So far I've managed to hold myself back from howling "FUUUCK!" every time I tweak my arm, seeing as my mother's nearly always in earshot, but I need some kind of an outlet.)  I'm waiting for the latest dose to kick in so I can try and catch a couple winks, so I figured I'd share all the loveliness with you.

Honestly, it wasn't all that bad an experience.  Every single one of my doctors and nurses were totally spiffy.  Even the intern who bruised me up trying to get the IV in was a very sweet girl - it seems, however, that my veins shrink under stress.  There are FIVE needle holes from failed attempts in my hand and arm, with varying degrees of bruised-ness around them, including a real shiner that takes up a good patch of my forearm. Finally the nurse took over and got it in fairly quickly.  That was probably the worst part of anything that happened there, though.

Once the IV was in and the anesthesiologist was done chatting with another patient (very nice man and very good at his job but that dude could TALK!  Quote from the nurses:  "Where's Dr. So-and-so?"  "Oh, he's off somewhere talking." They both laugh.), I got a little something in the IV to calm me down and the doc administered a block on my right shoulder.  That's basically a numbing injection put in just below a nerve cluster so it spreads through my arm.  My thumb and first two fingers numbed up pretty quickly, but I could still feel the rest of my arm.  The other meds kicked in very quickly, though, so I was slightly past caring.  This was about when I lost all sense of time.

After a while, they rolled me into the OR.  I was still pretty content-feeling, but a lot more alert than they were expecting.  The surgeon noticed that my shoulder wasn't marked at all, so he quickly scribbled something on there, which I definitely felt.  "Is my shoulder supposed to be numb yet?"  Pause.  Some confused glances.  "Um...yes.  We'll fix that for you.  Don't worry, you'll be asleep for it."  Surgeon, anesthesiologist and one nurse rush around purposefully.  Two other nurses help me onto the table and give me a breathing mask.  "This is just oxygen.  Just take some deep breaths..."  Well, as it turns out, it wasn't actually just oxygen.  That's the last thing I remember before waking up.

I don't remember what I dreamed about, but I know it was all very vivid and seamlessly woven in with drifting into consciousness and seeing blurry nurses check my stats or just rush past before I dozed off again.  Finally there was more of the blurriness than the vividness, so I figured I was awake.  Everything was still flowing together pretty well, though, so I can't tell you at what point my mom came in to sit with me, or how long it was between then and the time we left.  I do remember saying very vehemently that if I ever had a kid, it would not be in a hospital.  Okay, semi-conscious self, whatever you say...

I do remember the conversation the people in the "room" (they're just separated by curtains) next to me were having...a little more specifically than I'd really like to.  As far as I could tell, it was an elderly lady who'd hurt one of her legs, accompanied by one or more daughters, all with very heavy, rather refined Southern accents - you know, the kind who actually still drink mint juleps.  At some point, she stood up with the aid of a walker, and immediately started pissing herself lavishly.  She was nowhere near shy about it, and neither were her daughters.  Some gems I remember: "Oh lawdie, it's all in my shoes!  They're just full of it!"  "Well now we're gonna have to rinse them out, Momma!  Don't let's forget now!"  And this one, a good five minutes after she started: "Are you still peeing now, Momma?"  "Yep, it's still just comin' and comin'!"

From ghoulies and  ghosties and piss-covered old ladies, good LAWD, deliver us!

That's all for now, folks.  I've got the deets on this fancy sling to share with y'all, as well as the pretty pictures they took of my insides while they were stitching me up.  For now, though, here's my flower.  They gave it to me when I left.

-Nelly

Laundry day conversation

You know the day I mean.  You look into your closet or dresser, pull out the very last outfit you can possibly put together without resorting to knee socks and cocktail dresses, and think "Yep."  Then you suit up as quickly as possible and tiptoe out of the room, trying to avoid eye contact with the teetering mountain of fabric as it sits there, looming at you.

In my case, the laundry-day outfit usually isn't too crazy.  I have a ton of old tee-shirts from high school and college - for plays I've been in, concerts I went to, the sorority I was in for about a week, etc. - but the lower half is slightly more difficult to clothe.  My thighs have this awesome power to eventually shred the inner thighs of every single pair of jeans I've ever owned.  I've got about four pairs of these sad sacks - they're actually starting to look more like chaps than jeans, except the ass isn't worn off (yet) - in my dresser, dreaming of the day when I will be handy enough with needle and thread to fix them up.  For now, I mostly just wear them anyways and keep my knees together.

Today, however, I'm going to my chiropractor.  Something tells me he wouldn't be amused if he got me all twisted up, trying to snap whichever part of my body defies me today into place, and suddenly my pants decided to finally give out all together.  Well, at least I hope "amusement" wouldn't be on the list of emotions.

But anyways.  I reached for a pair of pants that are still somehow intact, but which I almost never wear anymore, because they fit so oddly.  They're trouser pants in this really thin, kinda stretchy pinstripe material, and they're almost tight on my quads but really loose everywhere else.  As in, I don't have to unzip or unbutton them to put them on.  So they just look weird.  But they cover the naughty bits, so they'll have to do.

So I wandered down to the kitchen, grabbed a frying pan and started chatting with Amam as it heated up.  I looked down at my pants.  "You know," I said, "these pants used to be my skin-tight go-clubbing-in pants."  No really, it's true!  I can't even picture how that worked now, but I used to only be able to button them without discomfort on a "skinny" day.

She nodded.  "You've made a lot of strides!"

I smiled a self-satisfactory little smile, confident in the fact that damn, that is true.  I gloated for a moment, but only in the cute way.  And then I thought...

"I think the biggest stride I've made is the fact that my "weight goal" is now something that I want to LIFT, as opposed to something I want to BE."

I think I amazed myself a little bit with that statement - I've been pondering on it ever since.  That difference - the complete 180 mindset shift - really is the biggest and most wonderful change I could have hoped for, in this entire quest for health I've been on for gods know how long.  Of course I'm not immune to the bad-body-image demons - there are days when I entertain thoughts of going on a crash diet and losing the few bits of pudge that still drive me crazy...but then I go to CrossFit, and remember how important and awesome it is to fuel yourself with clean, delicious food.  The more I take the time to fuel myself correctly, the better I feel, the more I can lift and do, and the stronger I am.  And I LOVE that.

And then I ate three eggs cooked in butter for breakfast.  True story.

Lurkers: Tell me something you love about yourself.

-Nelly

CrossFit questions

The first step is admitting you have a problem.

And then, if the "problem" happens to be CrossFit, the second step seems to be buying shoes of questionable aesthetic appeal that come in many bright colors.  Cases in point, the Inov-8 shoes I'm seeing on everyone and their grandmother in the gym right now, as well as the already classic Vibram Five Fingers (the name of which, my sister thinks, sounds like it should belong to a product of slightly more personal use).

Note that I haven't actually bought a pair of either yet, I'm just lusting after them like yeah whoa.  Just something to go on the list of what to do with my tax refund...

But I digress.

I'm addicted, you guys.  I've swallowed the red pill; I've downed every last drop of the kool-aid (can you even make paleo kool-aid?).  I may have constant bruises and torn hands and even red, swollen whip marks from those damn double-under jump-ropes, but it's absolutely worth it to be able to do something that is slowly (but faster than I realise it) and surely turning me into a totally bad-ass goddess of CrazySexyFitness.

The question is, where do I go with it?

Part of that question is for you guys.  I know that not everyone who reads this blog is as head-over-heels gone as I am for CF, or has even tried it yet.  I'm assuming that the regular CFers would be at least marginally interested in me posting my stats for WODs and lifting, but what about the rest of you?  Would you prefer that I keep it in a different section or page, or just update once in a while?  I've also been toying with the idea of adding videos/pics of myself and other CFDurhamites (if they want) working out.  What do you think?  Let me know!

The other part of that question is a deeper and much more personal one.  As it stands, being fit and healthy is currently an almost entirely personal pursuit of mine, and the day job revolves around...well, to be honest, pretty unhealthy food.  It's started to nag at me rather a lot lately - I put so much emphasis on having the best health I can for myself, but my livelihood still consists of literally feeding people stuff that I won't even eat.  Now, don't get me wrong - I love working there, but it's mainly because of the people I work with.  The more I learn about true health and the more I apply that to my own life, the more it bothers me that I'm supporting myself by doing exactly the opposite for other people - it's kind of a "sleeping with the enemy" thing, only I get paid for it.  Which makes me a...well, you know.

So many things to ponder.  For now, what do you think?  I'd love to hear what you'd like to see on this blog, any ideas you have for what I should do with my life, what you had for lunch today, how much you are loving your new baby puppy (Haleigh, I'm totally calling you out here!) and anything else you feel like commenting on.

-Nelly

Halfway done!

Can you believe we're already halfway through the first month of the new year?  It's insane how time keeps on speeding up the older I get.  Which, by the way, with be exactly 25 years old in about 38 hours and 35 minutes.  Yes, I was born exactly at midnight.  Ask my dad, he was watching the clock!  I'd say ask my mom but she was otherwise occupied.

So we're halfway through the month, and I'm also halfway through my first Whole30 bout.  I didn't make a big deal about it when I started, as usually when I have some kind of food or life revelation and get all gung-ho about a particular method enough to blog about how I'm going to omgztotallyRAWKit, I end up failing within the first week or so.  But...I haven't failed this one yet.  And I don't foresee a scenario where I'd have to completely abandon it, and after this much effort, even the iffy, possible scenarios (forgot to pack lunch for work, don't have the cash to buy it) don't outweigh the desire to finish this goal.

hope i'm not jinxing myself with this picture!

The Whole9 style of eating isn't all that far off from what I was doing before - no grains, no added sugars, no processed foods - with the addition of no alcohol and no dairy, which is the toughest area for me, as I am normally a milk fiend.  The biggest difference is that it allows absolutely no room for cheating - no beer or wine with dinner once in a while, no half-ounce of chocolate chips after a 10-hour shift, not even a drop of cream in coffee (I use coconut cream, so I don't miss that TOO much).  I never really realised how much I do take those little tiny sidesteps off the path of real, clean eating.  I firmly believe that it's okay to enjoy sweets and treats and things you wouldn't have every day...as long as you don't have them every day.  And I wasn't having them every day, but it was a lot closer than I'd like.

In the interest of full disclosure, I'll tell you that I did "cheat" once, just a few days after I started the whole deal.  The Man's holiday box of goodies finally arrived in the mail, containing all kinds of sugary deliciousness that tempted me sorely, all of which he spent a long time picking exactly which gift would be perfect for each member of the family, or which would mean something extra to me.  One of the things included was a little block of eggnog fudge from White House Chocolates in Middlefield, Ohio (if you're ever in that area, you MUST stop there. period).  They make it once a year and, it being super-good quality without many preservatives, it would have gone all stale by the time February rolled around.  So I cut a little chunk off the corner, just enough to taste, and then called up The Man to tell him merci muy mucho and yo te iubesc, and then put the rest of the goodies out of sight and mind until Feb.

But anyways.  It's been really interesting, at the very least, to try out a deal that's both very stringent and at the same time feels can feel ridiculously decadent, based on what you can have.  I've also realised that left to my own devices I will eat any coconut product - dried flakes, coconut cream, coconut butter, coconut oil, any of the last three dipped in the first... - out of the jar with a spoon.  Which is not always a good thing.  But for the most part, my meals look something like this:

This was breakfast yesterday.  Roasted brussel sprouts, a couple orange and grapefruit pieces, macadamia nuts, a palm-sized hunk of cow and coffee with coconut cream.  Note that I don't have coffee with every meal, although I wish I could.  But yeah - there's so much awesomeness here that I barely miss things like sugar and dairy (although I'm daydreaming about the raw milk I'm going to get when I finish this up...but that's another story :D)

Lurkers: did you change your diet (by which I mean all the stuff that you eat, not an action you undergo) for the new year?  What's your take on food/diet "challenges?"  Are you a coconut fiend as much as I am?  What do you think I should eat on February 1st?

-Nelly

35640 x 8000! No, wait...

...that would be the display resolution of the HIPerSpace.  We're talking a different kind of resolution here.

not this one (source)

 Even though we've not quite reached the new year yet, Blogland is already starting to be all atwitter on the topic of New Year's Resolutions.  Off the top of my head, Dianne Sylvan, Holly the Everythingtarian and Al Kavadlo have all weighed in recently, and I'm sure there are some others I've missed, as well as plenty more in the coming couple of weeks.  Everyone's got something to say about this one.

Questions, questions...

So I've been thinking a lot lately about food. 

image source

Yes, I know.  You've heard it all before.  But the fact is, it's a big, tough issue for me, and a constantly ongoing one, too.  Lately it seems like every new day shows a different facet of my complicated relationship with food.  Will today be straight-up Spartan Athlete Nelly, where food is fuel and all eating and exercise is simplified to "calories in, calories out"?  Or will it be Anti-Orthorexia Nelly, where the mindset is "obsessing over health and food too much is just unhealthy.  and everything in moderation!  so I'm just going to have this chocolate now, mmkay?"  Or even Just Plain Burnt Out Nelly, whose mantra is "f*ck it all, i'm going to have two pots of coffee and a half-cup of cookie dough for breakfast, french fries for lunch and top it off with deep-fried tofu soaked in mystery sauce for dinner!"

(this last one is especially not fun and invariably leads to bloating and general feelings of ickiness.  and I even know it while it's happening, which means I don't really enjoy it, so it can't even be classified as hedonism.)

I think a lot of the problem is that I haven't yet found a truly healthy eating plan that I can work with as well as I can with Crossfit, for exercise.  Crossfit has been an absolute miracle for me, mainly because I stuck with it long enough to grow to absolutely adore it.  It's been almost two years since I started and I haven't missed a single session (6-week for the bootcamp or by months for the regular class) in all that time.  It's just perfect - the activity, the camaraderie, the entire mindset is just so appealing to me.
Eating is an entirely different story.  A lot of the draw of Crossfit is that you do it together with a whole bunch of other similarly-minded people who, if they're not in there with you sweating away shoulder to shoulder, will cheer you on until you finish.  Eating, however, is (at least for me) almost always a solitary act.  No one to tempt me with the bad foods, but no one to help keep me from temptation, either.

image source

 And that's another thought - the bit about "bad foods," I mean.  After a terrifying (and still difficult) bout with anorexia (not myself but someone I love), I've always tried my hardest not to label foods as "good" or "bad;" not to see healthy, "clean" eating as a morally good but vaguely unpleasant act that had to be done to atone for my past sugary transgressions, and neither to reward myself for good behavior with edibles, especially if the  "good behavior" was partially avoiding those very same foods.  But now I'm coming to the conclusion that yes, there are good and bad foods.  There's still a lot of grey area, but there are absolutely some things that I should eat a whole lot of, and others that I should eat very, very infrequently, if ever at all, as they are basically poison to my body.  Period.


But...I love chocolate!  And I love milk and cheese and cream and butter!  And pie, and Wasa bread, and yoghurt, and pretty much any kind of cookie that doesn't contain peanut butter, and Nutella, and beer, and on and on, ad nauseum (really!).  And I really really really love coffee (with cream)!  So the question becomes, do I take enough pleasure from all these things to balance out the benefits to my health (which I think is already pretty damn decent, and certainly above average) that I would gain if I gave them all up?

image source

Big questions.

 I'm also pretty seriously considering ending my decade-plus stint of veg*nism (the star is there for everything from vegetarianism to straight veganism to my current pescetarianism).  At this point I think it's healthier for my body to start eating real meat again, and my ethics have evolved to the point where my mind agrees with that fact.  The only step left is the last one, to actually start consuming the stuff again.  I think I'm going to wait til Christmas dinner, when Maggie's promised to roast a nice happy farm-raised chicken for me.

Ok, I think this is a good place to leave all these ramblings.  What do you all think?  Let me know!

-N

Hungering for hunger

So about a month ago, or a little more, I was at my weekly weight-loss support group meeting (2Sexy, for the interested). The topic that night was how to deal with emotional eating. At the time, I'd been doing pretty strict paleo/primal eating for a good while, keeping up with Crossfit 4-5 times a week, and picking up running again. I felt fantastic, and all the personal details of my life (job, stuff with T and my fam, etc) were going pretty swimmingly as well. So when the discussion came around the circle to me, I blithely said that I didn't have any issues with emotional eating anymore.

Now, I'm just a little bit of a superstitious person in general (case in point: the GM swept up a penny when we were closing the shop last night and I wouldn't pick it up because it was tails-up), but for some reason I didn't even stop to think that I might be jinxing myself (or, for the scientific-minded, just speaking way too soon, at the best). However you think of it, the fact remains that directly after I made that remark (literally; it was only a couple days before shit started happening), the various factors in my life combined to make me remember exactly what emotional eating was. I sprained my ankle pretty badly and couldn't exercise for a while, which got me in a funk; drama started happening with my job and wages, which got me really on edge; and things got not-so-great with T, which I'm totally not going to detail here. And in response to all that, I ate.

Pinches of cookie dough and slices of the kids' pizzas at work, along with "healthy" salads slathered in dressing instead of bringing lunch from home. Doubling up on portions of normally healthy fare like sardines, and going back for seconds (and thirds) on Family Chinese & Movie Night. Coffee every day, all day, and not nearly enough water to make up for it. Just crap in general, and way too much of it. Not because I was hungry, but because I wanted to be full. As a result, I've put on somewhere between five and ten pounds in just that short time, while ostensibly trying to move in the other direction.

So I picked up this book, "In Defense of Food" by Michael Pollan, during my latest library run. Here's the book as described on Pollan's site, and here's the Amazon page for it. It's mainly about the industrialization of the "Western diet," and how it's led to so many of the most common illnesses and medical problems in our society (and that part is fascinating in itself). But in the last few sections, Pollan lays out a series of rules for eating (what and how) that, while terribly exhaustive, is also pretty inspiring, and most of them are sensible (obviously not everyone has the room for a freezer big enough to store an entire hog in). And these three I've picked, along with one of my own, are especially what I'll be aspiring to follow in an effort to shake myself out of this poor-health funk and back into something closer to my normal state. Here they are:

• Don't eat anything your great-grandmother wouldn't recognise as food (also: don't eat anything incapable of rotting).
• Avoid foods containing ingredients that are A. unfamiliar, B. unpronounceable, C. more than five in number or that include D. high-fructose corn syrup.
• Do all your eating at a table (a desk does not count).
  

And my own:

• Don't eat unless you are actually hungry (i.e. stomach rumbling).

This last one (which I used to stick to religiously) seems like it makes all the sense in the world, but it's the one I've ignored most often recently. Things taste better when you're hungry, and if you're not, you will feel like you need more of them to satisfy you. So today, this was my breakfast:

No coffee. Nothing solid, either - I wasn't hungry, and I respected that fact. Just a big ol' glass of water and the puzzle section. The water helped with any caffeine withdrawal, and now, hours after this picture was taken, I feel hungry enough to actually enjoy what I'm about to eat, which is this:
Raspberries, almonds, organic milk and oysters (just 3 ingredients on the can :D)

Wish me luck, you guys!

-N

A good way to start the day

Coffee with whole milk and an apple pie mini Lara bar. And Sudoku which I finished in about 5 minutes flat. And also a crossword that you can't see.

So I'm going to start posting pictures of my food again. I've really fallen out of the habit for a while, mostly because my "normal" meals these days are invariably sardines or eggs, a big plate of veg that while delicious is still pretty ugly, and lots of almonds. And also more than a few pinches of cookie dough while I'm at work, which is not exactly something I want to show off by providing photographic evidence. But I know I still should.

And I do really kind of miss the whole...ritual, I guess you might call it, that was setting up my meals for the photo. Getting out the nice plates and silver, cooking a good balance of colors and textures for visual interest, making everything look just so. I found that, at least for me, it was often the effort that I put into getting a good shot for this blog that made the difference between running around mindlessly munching (and then snacking on more later) and actually literally sitting down to eat and paying attention to the fruits of my labor (and thus being more satisfied with just that).

So yeah. I'm well aware of the danger that is becoming over-obsessive about food, but it seems like this is one minor obsession that's good for me. Keep posted for more pictures from here on out!

-N

Question for the lurkers: I want to start posting more frequently in general, and a way I've seen a lot of bloggers manage this is to create daily categories, like the money check-ups every Monday from Grace, Alyson et al, or Sylvan's Ten Things I Love posts (which aren't scheduled but still a category), or JPC's Spirit Sundays and Wordless Wednesdays (the latter I especially love: she just posts one particularly beautiful photo that she's taken recently and invites all the readers to simply revel in it with her). I've joined in on the Money Mondays idea, but what are some other ones you'd like to see me do? They should tie in with healthy living in some way, shape or form, but that's pretty broad :)

I want it all!

Hey you guys.

I just ate an ENORMOUS plate of fried catfish and french fries and hush puppies. I didn't take a picture beforehand because I was too hungry to remember, but it looked something like this, except more so and with FIVE hush puppies:

I dipped everything in ketchup and Greek yoghurt.

And then I washed it all down with a big ol' glass of whole milk.

I did not eat all my vegetables today. I definitely didn't stay within the 150g carb limit. I didn't even THINK about keeping track of calories or fat grams or whatever. I just worked hard, played hard, and then wanted some GREASE, damnit!

A good two full weeks have passed since the first inklings of craving for this delightfully horrible-for-you feast first started to nag. And all that time I gently pushed them away and ate pound upon pound of vegetables and eggs and almonds and my beloved sardines and kept doing structured workouts four or five days a week while working close to 40 hours over the weekends.

And then...it was ENOUGH.

You can say all you like about how cravings should be quelled and replaced with real, healthy, smiley-face-happy foods, which are what your body (poor, silly, confused thing that it is) really wants. And how they're inextricably tied to emotional eating and similar mental food issues, and should be worked through and fought against instead of given in to.

But goddess help me, I swear there is almost nothing so delicious, so perfectly sinful, as a fresh, steaming hot, dripping-with-grease hush puppy that you have been dreaming about for TWO. WHOLE. WEEKS.

So now I am stuffed to the gills and very very happy, if a little over-full. And tomorrow I will wake up at 5 and lift heavy things and then run around herding teenagers all day while munching on almonds , as I do most days. But eventually there will come another day when I will say SCREW 'EM ALL and gorge myself on something deliciously gross. Grossly delicious? Both.

Brief Crossfit update: I did a back squat (Olympic barbell racked on your shoulders behind your head) with 125 lbs for 3 reps, several times, with some seriously sore hip flexors. And also did more than a few pull-ups from a dead hang with only the blue band to help out (blue is better than green but not as good as red or lavender). And I FUCKING HATE double-under jump ropes, and I've got the welts all up and down my legs to prove it.

Lurkers: what's your favorite sin? How do you make it worthwhile and not let it completely take over?

Plus, bonus points for those who can identify the band currently on repeat in my car stereo from the title of this post WITHOUT Googling it!

-N

Quiet times

I've put together something of a collection of coffee mugs over the years. One's got a big "E" on it - it used to be my mother's (Emily) until she bequeathed it to me (my given name is Eleanor). One's a tiny little thing, holding about a quarter-cup and sporting a bas-relief dragonfly on the side - perfect for very strong dessert coffee with real cream, animated philosophical discussion and a crooked pinkie. One (perhaps my favorite) is shaped more like a short-stemmed goblet with a handle than a traditional mug, and the curves fit securely and warmly in your hand on a cold day. That one was a gift from T.
This one is another of my favorites. In case the picture's not clear, the words inside the lip say "Quiet times are to be treasured," a perfect phrase to be reminded of over a hot drink, which forces you to stop rushing and take your time so as not to get burnt.

That's a motto I have not exactly been living my life by these days.

It seems like these days, almost all of my time is taken up with working, working out, working on school, driving somewhere, or frantically trying to fill what down time I do have with more activities and distractions, trying to disguise from myself the fact that I am 600 miles from where I want to be - literally, that is. Figuratively speaking, the distance is in light years.

T is a great comfort, even if I have only his voice. He tells me I've spent hours and more convincing him that things will get better and making him see how far he's already come, and so it's now his turn to do that for me. I guess I'm not the best at practising what I preach, but when I stop to think about it, it is true. Just over two years ago, I was heartbroken and abandoned by my friends, quite literally homeless and with no idea of where my next meal would come from. Now I have a roof over my head and enough money coming in to save a good chunk every month, as well as being around people who care about me, even if they're not always good at showing me that (and I'm not the best at accepting it, I know).

I've also got the amazing luxury of having to worry about eating too much. Two years ago, I was scrounging restaurant leftovers and begging day-old muffins, eating as much as I could get, which still wasn't enough to support 10-hour shifts at the restaurant on top of walking 5 miles a day and sleeping only a couple of hours a night. I frightened myself when I looked in the mirror - the skin on my face was taut and gray, you could trace my hipbones and count every rib. Fortunately, things got marginally better and I was able to gain back enough that none of my friends or family noticed a change when I moved back down South (and then I just kept gaining...) It still haunts me, though. And I'm sure the fear of seeing that ghastly, destitute skeleton in the mirror again is a large part of my mental block towards losing more than a few pounds.

However, what I'm trying to say with all this rambling is that T is right. I've come amazingly far, and I need to stop distracting myself and recognise that fact more often, reminding myself what the alternative to my current situation could still be.
I just got this book (pic via amazon.com) out from the library, along with another on Zen that I couldn't find an image for - haven't cracked it open yet, but I'm hoping it will go well with some tea and deep breathing tonight. And quiet. Beautiful quiet.

-N

Flexibility

...also titled, "Rubber Band Girl: The Later Years."

image from this site

So when Maggie and I were wee little things taking ballet classes together, we (she more than I, but still the both of us) were known as among the most flexible. Once I grew up and out and no longer practiced ballet, I was still pretty proud of the fact that I maintained most of that flexibility without trying too hard, despite all the talk I heard about runners being notoriously stiff. In recent memory, I could, for example, keep both legs straight and my back flat while I stood with my face pressed to my knees without discomfort.

Well, after just attempting this feat again to prove to myself that I still could, I have to say that...I can't do that anymore.

This makes me very sad.

I can still put my hands flat on the floor in-between my feet, but that's with some definite tension in the back of my legs. Any further than that and it gets pretty painful.

Sigh. There are always trade-offs when I try to improve myself. Stop biting my nails; develop trichotillomania. Beat trich; get addicted to checking my email. Lose some weight; lose most of my T&A (VERY sad when that happened :'( ). Lose some more weight and improve fitness; lose most of the natural flexibility I still had left.

Well, it stops here, damnit. I want to sit in a center split with my chin on the ground and be able to call it "resting" again! I'll be attempting to put together some kind of stretching routine and posting it here once that's figured out.

For now, here is some food.
Big ol' salad with homemade hummus dressing and an egg, salmon steak, cherries and a delicious pale ale. And Eric Idle as the Lord High Executioner. Can't beat that.

Big ol' scoops of veggies (steamed broccoli and some OKRA, courtesy of amam. I actually liked it and it was not slimy!) topped with EVOO and grated parmesan, salmon steaks, blueberries and milk.

Yesterday's dinner. It was AMAZING. Sauteed 1/2 onion in a little EVOO over low heat until it was soft, then added red cabbage with ACV, sea salt and water to steam it, then sliced apples about a minute later. Once that looked pretty good, topped it with ripped-up kale and some more EVOO, then just let it sit until the water was gone and the kale was cooked and I couldn't wait any longer. Topped with 15 stir-fried shrimp and eaten with gusto. Also, some milk.

Exercise: yesterday I ran 1.6 around the Duke Wall; made it 3.0 this morning (with nasty cramps and a lot of walking). And Crossfit tonight. Yay!

-N

Screw noodles (et al.)

Aesthetically pleasing? Sure. Making me hungry? Not so much.

So Sunday night was (as it was, is and evermore shall be) Family Chinese & Movie Night. And after not having had a single item with flour or sugar in it (except for the aforementioned baked sweet things from Babysis) for a good week, I figured it was time for a break. After all, the last time I went on a serious (then Zone-based) health kick, I kept this tradition as my one vice all week, and still did pretty well. So having one wheat-and-soy-based meal out of the entire week, while avoiding it all the rest, isn't too bad, right?

The answer to that question is: blearrrrgh.

Holy shit. I felt so ridiculously bogged down - like the sick, too-full feeling you get after a bigger-than-it-should-have-been meal, but it didn't go away. I couldn't even eat my usual second helping - my taste for the flavors hasn't changed, but I just felt like I literally could not stomach any more.

However...

It's been slowly dawning on me for the past several days (what? i've been working!) that...that's how I always feel after FC&M Night. It was only with the week-long cleanse that eating only ridiculous amounts of veggies and salmon and fruit and nuts (and NO wheat or soy or caffeine or sugar or what have you) will give you that I could even realise it. Which means that, compared to the way I'm feeling now, I would have felt just as sick and heavy and bogged down on any given day of my life.

Yeah.

This is something to ponder.

For now, though, I have to go get dental surgery. I swear by all that is dear and holy that I will provide a Crossfit update later today! This round has been pretty awesome, and we're already halfway done with it and haven't said anything! I am a bad bad athlete-blogger, I know. But that will be remedied. I promise.

-N

Be healthy, y'all (completed, finally!)

Lately I've been fairly preoccupied with what it means to be truly, sustainably healthy, which apparently resulted in this song being stuck on repeat on my internal iPod for some days. For the year that I was vegan, this song was one of my credos, and although I no longer subscribe to the entire list of dos and don'ts, I still love both the message and the fact that it's being presented in a medium that's usually reserved (in America, at least) for rather more trite topics (although that is changing!).

At the behest of a couple of the trainers at Crossfit, I've been researching and experimenting with the paleo class of diets. They're based on the idea that many of our modern ills - heart disease, diabetes, obesity, some cancers; and those are only the biggest ones! - spring directly from our modern diet, by which they mean pretty much all foods introduced after the dawn of agriculture. That includes, for a start, all dairy, all cereal grains, all added sugar, all legumes (peanuts, beans, lentils) and all members of the Nightshade family of vegetables (tomatoes, potatoes, eggplant). Here's an image I've seen tossed around the forum boards a lot, for a visual:Now, I will never give up dairy. That's pretty set in stone. I've pontificated before about how incredible yoghurt is for health (that's free-range, organic, plain, whole milk yoghurt, preferably family-farmed and local, not that sugary crap they sell under the name far too often) and I'm sticking to that position. Neither will I cut out an entire family of vegetables simply because the form they existed in when Ug and Grok were trekking around looking for dinner was a poisonous one. However, in the interests of science and health, I did submit myself to a week's experiment of this diet.

It exists in three "Stages," meant to ease you into the neanderthal lifestyle. The basic gist of Stage One, for the link-shy, is that you drink loads of water and eat ("graze lightly") only fruit and nuts during the day, and then "feast" on whatever you'd like for dinner, with the assumption that you will realise how good healthy foods make you feel and how much modern processed foods do the opposite. It's supposed to simulate the caveman's day of walking around nibbling on berries and looking for something that looks good to eat and easy to kill, then doing both of those things.

Let me stress right upfront that this is NOT a starvation type of diet, despite the relatively light eating during the day. I make sure that I'm getting about 1/2 to 3/5 of my daily calories during the day through almonds (LOVE those suckers) and fruit, then top it off with the evening meal. Anorexia is also a modern ill, and I've seen enough of it to ensure that I will always be overly cautious about developing any habits even close to resembling it.

The site instructs the would-be caveperson to "have Pizza, Burgers, Chips [for the evening feast], whatever your heart desires. You will come to learn how much you really enjoy these foods... not much at all." I've already pretty much figured that out, so I took it a couple steps further, sticking with my normal slab of fish and gallon of leafy green things for dinner (just upping the portions a bit), and cutting out all added sugar (except for a couple cookies and a brownie when Babysis was baking...damn her!), all wheat (ditto) and all caffeine, except for one cup of tea. That's right. No coffee. Nary a drop since Sunday morning last week. Instead, I've tried out the morning routine prescribed on the site: "First thing upon waking - slam down a big cup of water. You will get a 'brain rush' and your body will come to life rather quickly." Zomguh, you guys. This actually worked. I was pretty astounded.

I also feel pretty good, considering what I've heard about how it can take some time to adjust to paleo-style diets, given that we (as modern people) are used to consuming and burning carbs for body fuel, in a relatively quick transformation of food into energy, whereas the caveman stored up and burned fat, the original exercise fuel. The Crossfit trainers all mentioned a good week or more of "paleo flu," where your body is relearning to rely on fat stores for energy (thus burning them), resulting in slight headaches and body soreness, much like a mild flu. I've been able to avoid that for the most part, though.

One thing I was quite worried about was the effect on my workouts - I've always been super conscious about planning meals around them, figuring out what to consume and exactly how long to wait and on and on. A quote from one of the forums ran something like "Cavemen didn't hunt on a full stomach, so why would you?" This whole caveman-this-caveman-that deal can get a bit tiresome, but it is a good point - our bodies should be able to rely on previously stored fuel for energy, not just the quick-burning carbs we had two hours ago. And it wasn't too bad - I didn't feel lightheaded, and neither did I get that bogged-down feeling I sometimes did when I ate too close to a workout. The much-raved-about endless stores of energy haven't quite kicked in yet, but I'll give it time.

So I think this is pretty cool, and doesn't seem to be too harmful yet. I'm planning on sticking to it for a while longer, paying close attention to what it does to me - my body, my mood, my energy levels, my ability to exercise and whatnot. I like what it's doing so far. We'll see how it continues to measure up.

-N

Mise en place

So this morning I had my breakfast (open-faced sandwiches of tuna, tahini, tomatoes and cayenne on Wasa, cherries, milk and my ubiquitous 2 c coffee with milk) all set out and arranged beautifully. And then T called and I started munching away while talking and completely forgot to take a picture. So it goes. But here are some other delicious eats from the past couple of days!Sunday morning

• overnight oats (1/2 c milk, 1/2 c yoghurt, with about 1/2 c total of rolled oats and oat bran
  
• about a cup of blueberries
  
• coffeeeee
• funny papers!

Last night's dinner:

• a salmon steak, pan-grilled with a little EVOO and topped with Greek yoghurt and fresh-cut purple basil
  
• Caprese salad minus the cheese and with more basil
  
• cherries cherries cherries
  
• Fish Eye Pinot Grigio that went awesomely with the cherries
• the most incredible dessert coffee ever: "Wake Me Up Before You Cocoa," available now for a limited time at your local Fresh Market!

IT LOOKS LIKE THIS

Go get some right now. Then brew it double strength and drink it out of tiny cups with a little splash of real cream. And don't forget to crook your pinkie and talk about world politics.

Today's lunch

• 1 big salad, with spinach, toms, shrooms, tofu, eggs and balsamic vinaigrette
• "seafood bisque." i have NO idea what was really in it
• water with a splash of cranberry juice
• official SAS chocolate square (dark, natch)
  

I'm doing this 5-week financial planning course through my dad's workplace, and today was the first one. The gist of the lecturing part was, most basically, "saving is good! we like to save!" There was a good emphasis on writing down specific goals and doing the math to figure out how to accomplish them, but I kind of feel like the majority of the message will be things I've already quite realised: save as much as possible, buy things with cash rather than credit, make a realistic budget and stick to it, etc etc. We'll see how the rest of the deal goes, though.

Lately I've had this odd feeling that the things I am doing right now - and not just the overt planning for the future, but also the daydreams and the definitionless minutiae and all of it - are going to significantly steer how the rest of my life goes. I have no idea how this will go about being accomplished, or even if it will. But it's like there's this constant, ever-so-slight hum, continuing on below all the clamor of everyday life, like the sound of a gong vibrating after it's been struck. And every so often something happens that seems to set off a bell in my head - not a chorus of clanging alarm bells, as the literary cliche goes, but just one - a very small, soft, sweet tone, but one that is almost terrifyingly insistent, and heavy with significance.

And it's entirely up to me to hear these signals, figure out the true significance of these events and then decide what to do with that information. I'm working on the building blocks (an education, a store of knowledge (these latter two are quite different), a satisfying career, healthy finances, healthy relationships, health in general...) and trying to fit them all together at the same time. And, to be honest, it's pretty maddening. I'm trying to build a house while the bricks are still being formed - although in my case I guess it's while the straw is still being baled.

So this is when I put away the planner and calendar, close the budget software and class schedule, pour myself a good cuppa and start doodling out what the end of the road looks like, with no missing or unfinished pieces. Just everything where it's supposed to go.

Mise en place.

-N

Question for the lurkers: what does your "end of the road" look like?

Loving the state I'm in

Today wasn't entirely a rest day, as I did a morning shift at work (prep for a big event we're having tomorrow). It still felt wonderfully luxurious, though. I got up earlyish, as I've been doing automatically for a little while now, which gave me plenty of time to chill with coffee, paper and a real breakfast.Coffee, delicious cherries (almost gone!) and a couple of wasabreads spread with tuna and topped with tomato. I love pairing good ripe tomatoes, with that rich almost-sweetness they get, with something savory, and this is one of my favorite combinations.

Lunch was late, as I didn't get back to the house till afternoon, but worth the wait.Amam's leftover soup from Chinese night - probably not much more than water, MSG and a few veggies. Still, it's tasty and (sans MSG, fingers crossed) a good way to up my fluid intake. I added more water and a little salt and pepper to feel less guilty. Milk in my new-found mug (it was tucked away in the garage and I commandeered it), and an old favorite from WAY back when: tomatoes and cheese broiled on toast. When I was younger I used to completely smother this thing with cheese, so I used considerably less of that, thicker tomato slices and this aMAZing rye bread that's about half a centimeter thick but dense as hell and absolutely delicious.

Not shown: more cherries nom nom!

After lunch I took my book and drove down to the Eno to enjoy this perfect NC summer day. I really, really love this state. There are certain times, just long enough after the government-sent roadway landskeepers come by with their mowers and edgers and herbicide, that all nature seems to be just barely constrained - that if you turned your back for too long or even blinked, the brambles and vines would surge beyond their man-mandated boundaries and turn the whole place into wilderness again, every view filled with dappled gold-green sunlight on the leaves that explode out of the earth with every summer rainstorm. I've been to a fair amount of places that are said to be very beautiful, and to be sure there have been some strong contenders, but quite honestly nothing can compare with a lazy Carolina day, lying under a tree and looking up at a sky of blue-and-green stained glass, shimmering golden with every breeze.

With all this poetic wandering, I forgot to take pictures. Next time, I promise...

-N

The beginning of the end?...

So something pretty incredible happened while I was in Ohio.

It wasn't a particular event (no, Maggie, no ring :P) and I can't track it to a definite time at all...but it still kind of blows my mind when I think back and re-realise it.

I'm guessing it's a result of a combination of things. Simply being with T makes me feel so beautiful. It's just the way he looks at me, the way his eyes grow miles deep and the tense lines in his face soften a little. I'm more confident around him than anyone else - I know he's looking at me with admiration, not disgust, and that leads me to strut a little more, which in turn makes me feel even better about myself. And of course there are the times when he simply tells me I'm beautiful. Normally, words wouldn't mean as much as the look in his eyes, but I know this is a man who only says certain things when he really, really means them.

But there's more than just simple admiration of my looks in how he seems to feel about me. He knows all my weaknesses and self-hatreds, all my bad habits and the ways that I try to hide them (and myself in the process). And he loves me enough not to ignore them, and to bring them up when I try to push the issue aside. And so, oddly enough, I think it's that forced discussion of my flaws and ways I can fix them that helped the most - just straight talk about what's wrong and how to fix it, not trying to skirt the issue for delicacy's sake.

I looked in the mirror the other day and saw someone new. For as long as I can remember, I'd seen what I thought of as myself in the glass - the ugly sister, the fat girl, the one with crooked teeth and patchy, limp hair and a body I've been dissatisfied with ever since I became aware that I had one and that it was more than just a vehicle to get me from place to place. I saw myself as he must - the gypsy girl, the sex kitten, the cuddly bunny with dragon morning breath...the woman he loves.

And it was a real eye-opener, to say the least. It's still messing with my head a little.

Speaking of messing with my head, I haven't pulled a single hair out in three days now. Not one. There's no urge to pull, either. The haircut is part of it, but definitely not all.

So yeah. I don't know how long this new mindset will last, but I'm trying to hang onto it for as long as possible, now that I know what it's like not to hate your reflection. The title of this post refers to that...the beginning of the end of my myriad issues, hopefully. God, I hope so. It wouldn't be a moment too soon.

-N