Ten Pounds Down...

As the temperature begins to climb, and the days get longer, I suddenly find myself with a new motivation for continuing on this journey to fitness. The other key motivator? I am finally down 10 whole pounds since January.

Finally, I feel like I am making some progress. I also know my body well enough to know that I am right on the cusp of starting to see a difference in the mirror and I reeeaaaaally want to get to that point.

So, I've been sweating on the elliptical machine (I worked out last night until I burned 825 calories on that darned thing). I've been reading food labels and purchasing accordingly. I've been drinking lots of water. I've been parking further away from the door at the grocery store and at work. And I keep waiting and watching patiently as the number on the scale slowly creeps lower and lower.

As I sip my Diet Coke and eat another Lean Cuisine, I know that in the long run this will all be worth it. Not just for the weight loss competition at work (which my department is winning, by the way). Better for my health. Better for my energy level. Better for swimsuit season and summer clothes. Better for improving future skiing ability. (Do I really have to wait a whole year to ski again?) Better for my overall well-being.

One thing that I think I have finally come to terms with is the fact that this is hard work. There is no getting around it. There is no miracle cure. There is no miracle diet. (I am talking from experience here.) There is only slow and steady progress through healthy eating, portion control and exercise. It's not fun. It's time consuming. It's not at all glamorous. But according to my scale, it works.

I truly envy people who don't have to try this hard to maintain their fitness. Unfortunately, I work with plenty of those people. (Sigh.) I get to hear about how they didn't work out all week and they went out for pizza, etc, etc, but their weight doesn't fluctuate. In fact, one gentleman who I work with actually has trouble gaining weight. (Is there no justice?)

I have come to terms with the fact that I am just not one of those people.

Only 13 weeks left until Memorial Day weekend. If you are looking for me, I'll be working out. I'm not saying that I'm going to like it--but that's where I'll be.

Friday Feast--On a Tuesday Night?!

Okay, so I wrote this, but forgot to post it last week. I wouldn't want a good meal to go to waste!

Appetizer

Where on your body do you have a scar, and what caused it?

I have a scar on my right knee. It was from when I was about 5 years old, and I fell on a piece of broken glass that was outside of my house. I just remember how terrified I was (at the time) at the idea of getting stitches. If I had gotten stitches, I probably wouldn't have a scar on my knee, but I actually appreciate the fact that my Mom didn't force me to go to the ER. I think she knew that with me being the youngest of 6 kids, that having a scar on the knee would not be the end of the world, but taking me to the ER to get stitches would have been devastating for me. I think that scars, to some degree, add character to a person. They all tell a story.

Soup

What is something that has happened to you that you would consider a miracle?

I think I may have mentioned this once before, but we had a fire in the house where I grew up. Growing up Catholic, we had several items in the house that were blessed by a priest. One was a paper picture of Jesus that hung on the wall in our kitchen. Another was a wooden and glass container that hung on the wall that was used to hold holy water (you could dip your fingers in it and make the sign of the cross before saying grace). There was also a plastic bottle filled with holy water (for refills).

The kitchen fire was devastating. Everything was destroyed, burned and/or melted. Everything except for those blessed items that remained in our kitchen completely untouched by the flames. The walls burned around the items.

I definitely consider that to be a miraculous event. If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn't believe it myself.

Salad

Name a television personality who really gets on your nerves.

Bill Maher. I can't even stand to watch a few minutes of him. He annoys me and life is just too short to watch people on TV who irritate you.

Main Course

What was a funny word you said as a child (such as "pasketti" for "spaghetti")?

I don't remember ever saying an English word incorrectly. I had 5 older brothers and sisters, so I was always quickly corrected on my speech and grammar early in life. However, both of my parents are fluent in Polish and they would occasionally throw in a Polish word and use it regularly in the middle of English sentences. One word that I always thought was great (and I don't know how it is spelled) is "gachies". For some reason, when I was growing up, underwear was never underwear. It was always "gachies". To this day, I will still tell my husband (after doing the laundry) that he now has clean "gachies". It's such a funny word.

Dessert

Fill in the blank: I have always thought_____was______.

I have always thought that Barry Manilow was kind of cool. (Don't judge me.)

Can't Smile Without You

Greyhound adoption is a beautiful thing.

You can take an ex-racer who has only lived in cages and on the racetrack and turn him or her into this:

Or into this:

(It sort of looks like she is smiling, doesn't it?)


Visit this link for more info on greyhound adoption and you too can make a greyhound smile.

Skiing Steamboat Colorado

It was about a 3 hour drive from the Denver airport to Steamboat, Colorado. The longer we drove the more remote everything became. During the last hour or so, it felt as though it was just our car, miles of empty landscape--and us. Miles of empty land as far as the eye could see. Honestly, it was a little creepy.

Finally, we started to see signs of civilization and soon we had arrived at Steamboat. Upon arrival, we unpacked and did the grocery shopping. After picking up groceries, we stopped for gas at a Sinclair station complete with the trademark Sinclair dinosaur. There was a saddle on the Sinclair dinosaur. All I can tell you is, if you put a saddle on a dinosaur, you just aren't giving me much of a choice, are you? I'm going to have to climb on. And I did.

Finally, we went back to our resort and waited for our gear to arrive. Once the skis, boots and poles arrived and we tried on the boots, it started to feel real. I only put those boots on once a year, but as soon as I snapped them on my feet, I could feel my heart skip a little beat. Soon we would be hitting the slopes.

On the first morning of skiing, we looked outside and quite honestly, we were a little disappointed. It was kind of half-snowing and half-raining. It looked slushy and gross outside, but we decided to make the best of it. We traveled a long way to ski and we were going to ski no matter what. We skied through the slush, down to the gondola and started the incline to the top of the mountain. We kept going up further and further. The view was amazing! About ten minutes later, we arrived at the top of the mountain and when we stepped outside, it was snowing. It's amazing what a few thousand feet in altitude will do!

The snow came down and it came down hard. That first day, visibility was so bad and the snow was so thick that all four people in our group wiped out at one time or another. (Falling in that much powder wasn't very painful.) There were times where you couldn't tell the difference between the sky and the ground. There were times I had to stop and look back for my friends and I couldn't see any of them. I couldn't see anyone at all for that matter. In fact, at one point we all stopped to try to determine which way to go because we couldn't tell if we were still even on the trail. In actuality, the ski lift was just a few yards ahead of us, but none of us could even see it.

The non-stop snow and powder covered everything. The landscape had a surreal, dreamlike quality to it. The trees looked like they were dipped in whipped cream. It looked like we had stepped onto the set of Narnia. It was some of the most beautiful scenery I had every seen.

Day two was a little better. It still snowed, but we could see a little better and the freshly groomed powder started to make for some really nice skiing conditions. The trees were still covered and just breathtaking.

Hands down, day three was the best. The sun was shining, the sky was blue and the mountain was covered with Steamboat's signature Champagne Powder. The conditions were so good, I actually felt like I was skiing better than I ever had in my life. I knew that before we got too tired and before we stopped for lunch, it was time to conquer the black diamond slopes.

Being unfamiliar with this mountain and feeling brave but not crazy, I decided to ask an instructor for guidance on an "easier" black trail. He directed us towards Cyclone.

Cyclone was challenging, but again, there was so much powder covering everything, it made skiing even the steep hills manageable. After conquering Cyclone, we bravely took the next black trail we saw--without any knowledge of what to expect. Heart pounding and breathing heavy, I made it to the bottom and felt the euphoric rush of success.

Skiing those challenging runs are so therapeutic. I think that my husband put it best. He said that when you are skiing those trails, you are so focused on your turns and getting down the mountain, that you don't have time to think about or worry about anything else. Your mind is completely clear of day-to-day worries because all you think about is, "Turn left, turn right, shift you weight, dig in harder, slow down, don't fall..."

On the way back to the Denver airport, we admired the scenery once again as we drove through the countryside. During our drive, we noticed something obstructing the road up ahead. What was it? We couldn't really see right away until we got closer. It turned out to be real life ranchers moving their herd across the road. I hung out the window to get as many pictures as I could. What can I say...you just don't see that sort of thing every day in Nashville.

So now it's back to regular life and work and everyday normalcy. Somehow it seems okay because I got to ride a dinosaur, climb a mountain in a gondola, fall down and get back up, conquor my fears while building my confidence on a black slope and laugh a whole lot.

(Sigh) I guess it will hold me over until next February...

Can I Come Out and Play?

Isn't it funny how as adults we have to force ourselves to stop and take time to "play"? What's worse, is that we spend even less time playing outdoors--or at least that is the case for me.

When I was a kid, I used to love to play outside. I would ride my bike, make mud pies, swim at friends' houses, explore the neighborhood, run around with my dogs, climb trees, etc. Every now and then, when I see kids in my neighborhood playing outside, I get a little jealous. I miss the simplicity of those days.

However, there is relief in sight! I have a "play date" scheduled for myself and ALL of the playing will take place outdoors. I am about to go and play in the snow in Colorado. And by "play in the snow", I mean downhill skiing.

Here are just some of the reasons why I love skiing so much:

A) It takes place in a beautiful setting. The views are gorgeous. The air is crisp. There is a pristine blanket of snow over everything. It doesn't get much better. God is truly an artist and He didn't hold anything back when He was designing the mountains of Colorado.

B) It's exhausting. You are working the biggest muscles in your body all day long. 8:00am - 4:00pm. After a day of skiing, it's a whole new kind of tired and sore--but it feels SO good. I know it sounds strange, but I love that feeling of working your body so hard that you are completely spent when the day is through.

C) Fabulous calorie burning. You can eat a nice, hearty dinner every night and not feel too guilty about it.

D) Soaking in the hot-tub after skiing. Aaaaahhhhh. It's especially fun when you soak outside in the hot-tub while it is snowing.

E) Having a good night's sleep after skiing, soaking in the hot-tub and topping off the evening with a cocktail. Bombs could go off in the next room and I wouldn't stir.

F) The skiing itself. Once you do your stretches, put on all your layers, get into your big, heavy boots, snap on those skis and get on that lift, it's the start of an adventure. There is a whole mountain to explore. You have control over where you go and how fast you go and how you get there. When you do something a little more challenging and your pulse races, you feel so alive. Or sometimes it's just fun to go down a nice, long, easy run and just take in the beauty of it all at a nice, relaxing pace.

G) It's kind of romantic when you get to ride on the ski lift with your sweetie.

This will be the fourth consecutive Valentine's Day week skiing trip that we have planned. In February of 2004, we still lived in Pennsylvania, so we drove to Greek Peak near Ithaca, New York. 2005 was Breckenridge, Colorado. 2006 was also Breckenridge. 2007 will be our first time in Steamboat Springs, Colorado.

I can't wait to explore a new mountain! See you when I return...I'll be sure to tell you all about it.

Going Through The Bad and Appreciating The Good

I received a direct mail piece in the mail the other day. It was innocent-looking enough. It was just a black booklet with some information about local businesses in my town. However, when I looked through it, I realized that it was produced by a former employer of mine. Holding this booklet in my hand took me back to that place. That awful place. And it was awful because of "Bob". (Names changed to protect the...well...just so I don't reveal too much).

Bob was an awful boss. Bob had his own way of doing things. He was a control freak. One one hand, Bob would say, "I want you to take on more responsibility and make the decisions without feeling like you need to check with me." On the other hand, whenever I tried to do that, I was told why my decisions were the wrong decisions. So, then I would revert back to running everything past Bob so that he couldn't put the blame on me for things. Then, I would be criticized for not making the decisions myself. It was an awful cycle that just kept spiraling. If I got 999 things out of 1000 done in a day, I would be asked why the one thing wasn't done and told how the other 999 could have been done better. Bob was never happy unless he had total control (even though he would claim to want to let go of control). He always had something to complain about.

The other factor with Bob was that Bob had his wife working for him. Bob's wife was very sweet and very meek. She was kind and gentle and she worked in accounts payable, accounts receivable and payroll. Bob yelled at his wife a lot. He would yell at her in front of the rest of the employees. I felt sorry for Bob's wife. She didn't deserve to be yelled at and I wondered if he treated her that way in front of us, how he treated her behind closed doors.

Last, but not least, the employee entrance to this place had spider's nests and webs all around it. Much to my horror, spiders would be right over the doorway--all the time. Every time I had to put my key in the door and try to push it open (it took some force, because it would stick), the whole doorway would shake and I would be sure that spiders were going to fall on me. I just got chills writing about it. I would spend my day in this place that I hated after walking through a doorway that was covered with things I feared the most. Could it get much worse?

Bob made me feel like a bad employee. He made me question whether or not I was a competent worker. I went from having confidence in my abilities to questioning myself in the less than year's time I worked for him. I realized that it was time to move on when I started to have fantasies about how my life would improve if something bad would happen to him.

When I resigned, such a weight was lifted from me. My life has improved ever since I walked out that door. Now, I have gone from one extreme to the other, because I really love my current job and my current boss is very "hands off". I barely even got trained--and I'm just fine with that.

In a weird way, I am glad that I suffered through Bob and the job from hell. It has made me stronger. It has made me realize that sometimes you have to take matters into your own hands to make your life better.

And somewhere, deep down, I think it makes a great job seem just that much sweeter when you've seen what a bad job (and bad boss) really is.

Open Up and Say "Aaaahhhhh"

OK, so I am still home sick.

I had to make the phone call this morning about not coming in to work. I really hate making that phone call, but I must say, that my voice sounds so awful right now, I almost take pride in it. Almost. So, I left a message on a few co-worker's voicemails and could just imagine them listening and wincing at the horrific sound coming out of me. It's pretty cool.

I also started to feel a little funkiness in my lungs. I decided it was time for the doctor. I am usually pretty stubborn about trying to get well by myself, but I need to be skiing in the mountains of Colorado in exactly nine days, and I refuse to let this darn cold turn into bronchitis or pneumonia and stand in the way of that.

As I sat in the little examining room, waiting on the doctor, I looked around at all of the article clippings on the walls. Lots of clippings warning about the dangers of overprescribing antibiotics and the differences between bacterial and viral infections. "Most colds are viral and antibiotics simply won't help them to go away any sooner," the articles warned. I read a paragraph about how some bacterial colds can take up to 2 weeks to go away and that antibiotics simply wouldn't help speed the process.

Again, I counted the days in my head until I have to board that plane to Denver. I started to think this outing to the doctor was going to be a waste of my time and that I probably would have been better off laying in bed watching TV for this particular hour and a half. I had visions of coughing up phlegm while riding the ski lift. I was sure I was doomed. I prayed that whatever I had, they wouldn't conclude it to be "viral".

Luckily, (or at least that is how I choose to look at it) the doctor said my lungs sounded "rough" and declared, in spite of all the article clippings, that I needed a breathing treatment and an antibiotic. I think I actually heard the angels sing out a chorus of "hallelujah".

At least now I feel that, A) Whatever I have can actually be helped by something other than rest and the passing of time, B) Anyone who comes to our house on Sunday to watch the SuperBowl will not have to fear for their lives, because I should not be contagious and most importantly, C) I will be taking my last antibiotics on the day I fly to Colorado, so when I hit the slopes on that cold, crisp morning of February 11th, I should be feeling like my old self.

In theory, I should be able to go back to my job tomorrow--and in the meantime, just for fun, I might even call a few more people with my horrible voice while I still have it.