the week in review & its lesson

The past week was ... pretty good. I didn't reach any of my goals from last week (I didn't hit the gym at least four times, only two; I didn't wear my heart rate monitor once, because I still haven't found it; the closest I came to waking up at 5 a.m. -- regardless of my intention to go the gym -- was the morning I got out of bed at 5:55. "Yay! Still the 5 o'clock hour!").

The thing that makes this all kinda OK is that the weekend was great. Seriously.

Patrick and I, as I mentioned earlier, rode our bikes up a mountain and made our first trip to a Star City Brewers Guild meeting. We met a ton of great people who brew beer. Additionally? The food spread included a lot of healthy options (I ate fresh greens, hummus, tabouli, flat bread and some spinach dip). And, AND ... how many different versions of homemade lifestyle did I hear about? Among them: compost worms in someone's house, homemade kimchi, other folks' versions of beer breads, home-cured ham, homegrown mushrooms, hop gardens. This group meets once a month and I expect I'll learn something new about beer and about scratchmade living at every meeting.

So that was how amazing Saturday was.

Sunday was pretty great, too: a hike halfway along Tinker Ridge; homemaking an Italian loaf, granola bars*, granola cereal; and a delicious dinner of that fresh bread, toasted and accompanied by sliced pear, tomato, roquefort, fresh mozzarella and honey.

Are you f*cking kidding me? The weekend could not have gotten much better. And it's one I want to replicate again and again. I want a bike ride every weekend, a hike, homemaking, and good tasty nutritious eating.

Is this some version of spring fever?

this is the tasty italian, made by patrick. i'm so glad we finally started making all the bread we eat ... so simple and yet such a feeling of accomplishment. below? the bread mid-mix, and a little saazie-face to get you all "awwww"-y. (this is what we see anytime we're in the kitchen: her trying to be as close to us as possible without getting in the way. ok, sometimes getting in the way.)

In any case, as good as the weekend was, I still want to take some notes from my less-than-stellar week ...

the lessons

1. I need to seriously cut the sugar out. And I need to give credit to my fruit & oat bowls for satisfying my sweet tooth.

I was pretty go-go-go all week ... until Friday.

I've tried to bring a certain tradition into the workplace (which I borrowed from Patrick's old job in Knoxville): #coffeefriday; celebrate payday with coffee and breakfast! It's brilliant and important and something to look forward to every two weeks.

In past weeks I've brought in homemade scones and biscotti, a co-worker brought donuts another week, and yet another everyone contributed to oatmeal breakfast (bringing spices, oats, fruit, coconut, etc.)

This week? I brought in some delectable treats from Bread Craft, a sweet little shop serving up European-style goods. I highly recommend it, and I will eat there on into the future (their salads are tasty, their sandwiches hearty, their cheese is housemade!).


But between my coffee Friday morning and my ginger scone from Bread Craft, I turned crabby instantly. And then I ate another pastry in the afternoon (danish).

I knew what was happening, but I was not able/willing to fight it. I knew that sugar is no good for me first thing in the morning (or in that quantity, or unaccompanied by protein and fiber). But I picked up the scone and ate it. I knew that the reason I wanted the second pastry was because I'd eaten the first. But I ate the second pastry.

I'm going to challenge myself this week: I'm going to limit my cane-sugar intake to the little amount that's included in my newly homemade granola-bar-squares (one ounce of granola square has about 0.1 ounce of sugar) and bittersweet chocolate. Otherwise, I'm going to look to fruit to satisfy my sweet tooth, or to forgo a sweet when I would otherwise indulge the craving.

What I hope to see is a week of me feeling full of energy and ready to take on all the challenges that await me.

here's a nonsugar dessert I enjoyed earlier in the week: chopped pear, plain old-fashioned oats, malted barley, semisweet chocolate & honey. it was delicious and it's the kind of thing i plan to reach for whenever i think "sweet!"

2. I absolutely must have all my morning stuffs prepped if I want to get my ass successfully and energetically to the gym. I lost my keys last week. Also, I have no idea where my heart rate monitor is. Some mornings my lunch wasn't ready and when as I was going to bed all I could think about was how rushed I was going to feel trying to fit in a trip to the gym, getting ready for work, eating breakfast and making my lunch. I'm pretty sure that anxiety kept me in bed some mornings.

So I want to remove all simple obstacles. I aim to have: my gym clothes folded and ready for me, my keys stored alongside them, my iPod full and charged, my lunch made.

I'll limit my goals to these two, but I think of them as very small, integral cogs in a very big machine. I hope to be running more smoothly one week from today.

* The recipe for granola bars (shown above cut into about 2-point portions) is from America's Test Kitchen Family Cookbook. I recommend just about anything that this behemoth food brand creates (Cook's Illustrated, Cook's Country, the America's Test Kitchen PBS show, cooksillustrated.com). Their business model is built around being only mildly open source, so to speak. I'll respect that and post a recipe for the granola bars only after I've tweaked it enough to feel like I can call it my own.

since last we met ...

... I've done some good things!

(list!)
> I cleared out my digital spaces. Gmail: empty. Google docs: streamlined & organized. Facebook friends: edited. Google Reader subscriptions: improved! All these pieces of data float, they're weightless. But they tax my mind so much when they're not meaningful, organized, utilized.

E-mail, for instance: I was using it to hold on to information (passwords, recipes, etc.). But I never actually searched my e-mail archives for those things regularly. And in any case, is that really what e-mail should be for? I mean, would I keep a big bucket in my house to store every piece of mail I got, just in case I'd need to refer to it? No, I'd level some importance on each piece of mail, and then *do* something with it. So that's that. My e-mail *must* remain a weigh station until I figure out the usefulness of any given piece of correspondence, and then *act* on that usefulness.

> I signed up for the gym! I had my choice of a free gym membership in the town where I work (through my husband's employer, who's based in Blacksburg even though he works from Roanoke ... where we live), or I could get a reduced membership at a gym where I live (though *my* employer, who's based in Roanoke even though I work in the Blacksburg area. Ha!).

I love to save a buck, but the Blacksburg gym would have meant me adding to my commute (which is already 3 hours total every day), and carefully coordinating my (sometimes unpredictable) work schedule to make sure I get to that gym before it closes. Too many obstacles. And I'm honest enough with myself to know that I'll use things like long commutes to excuse skipping my workout.

So it's a membership at my Roanoke gym instead. And in fact, it's a gym I attended when we lived here four years ago. Home sweet home.

> I went to the gym! It only took me about two weeks longer than it should have to actually sign up for the gym, so I was kind of proud of myself for waking up this morning and taking advantage of my membership immediately. 5 a.m. alarm. To the gym by 5:30. Thirty minutes on an ellipticalmadoohicky. Back home. It was short and sweet, and ultimately I want to *get* to the gym by 5 a.m., but I told myself I'd ease into it. Better I start slow and gain traction than start with a high bar and feel like I'm falling short.

> I tracked my Weight Watchers points all week. It took a little bit of effort, especially on the weekend when we took a great day trip to Charlottesville, Va., and I had to remember all my food choices. But I did it. And I was honest. And I was only 2 points over for the week. When I get on the right track with food, I know I'm in for a string of even *more* healthy decisions. So yay!

> I pre-tracked my breakfast and lunch for today. I've always found this helpful, and almost necessary to set up good food habits throughout the week. Not to mention that I can usually find a time to pre-track, but by the end of a day of looking *back* on food I ate and trying to record it, I find myself full of excuses for not doing it. Which tends to lead to more days of not tracking, which eventually leads to days of not actually making the smart food choices that tracking helps me focus on.

So, a pretty great start to the week. ...

... *ahem* after this confession
My husband planned a pretty amazing weekend for us. I even drafted a sweet blog entry about how wonderful he is and what a productive Saturday and Sunday we had ahead of us ...

And then I got in a crabby, crabby mood on Saturday. And it carried over into Sunday. This happened last weekend, too. And either I *hate* the weekends (???), or there's something else going on. And I think I may have identified it: Saturday morning breakfast.

It should be a treat, right? First day of repose, lazy morning ... "good" breakfast! Of ... donuts! (It's good because it's delicious. Uhuh.)

But yeah, sugar in the morning ... hell no more. Hell. No. More. Because I think it's crashing my spirits right into the ground. Poor husband! He really did have a great weekend planned, and we ended up doing most of the things we intended to: drive to Charlottesville, with a stop at a brew-pub on the way (here's his review of Blue Mountain Brewery); and then good coffee & walkin' our sweet dog through C'ville. And there I was, pouting. Boooooo.

In any case, it's a lesson for my future breakfast: if anything, I'll make it bacon. Hold the sugar.

weekend warrior

Productivity, fueld by coffee (PS: I totally photoshopped myself a clear complexion ... forehead pimple! I almost gave myself more eyebrows, too ... )

OK, OK. So I admitted to falling down a little with the no-tracking thing. That's Step 1.

Step 2 is to get back into warrior stance and do some stuff. Including starting to track food again. Hey, wanna see my spreadsheet? I knew you did! I'll explain how it works in a future writeup.

It's nearly ridiculous how much focus this tracking thing brings to my food decisions.

I recorded my breakfast, and I've already written out my lunch (hummus sandwich with veg and feta). I'll be going out to dinner with Patrick this evening and I know I have 6 points left for the day (plus a few extra weekly points if I want to use them). I'll probably drink a beer (3 points) and have a piece of pizza (5 points).

And you know what? I don't feel deprived. I feel in control and happy to know I'm making good choices.

other plans for the weekend
A nice long walk. I haven't exercised since our long ride along the Creeper Trail. I could go to the gym or get on my bike, but after such a long absence — and being in need of re-centering — a walk is perfect. I love, love, long walks. I like the fresh air and the time to reflect.

Brewer's Jam! Patrick and I are going to help man the homebrew club's booth, and I plan on having fun, drinking beer (counting points, of course), and helping my husband hand out tasters. I also designed the homebrewers' tab cards, which was a super fun good time. Aren't they nice?

Write up the next entry in my tracking tools how-to. I can't just let a series sit unattended! I may even write up the third entry, too. (My first entry in the series, by the way).

23-mile bike ride! It's one of my Stinger goals, to replicate a ride Patrick and I took several weeks ago when I still just had a mountain bike. When I originally set the goal I'd assumed it would be a big deal to ride that far on a road bike, but after our neighborhood tour a few weeks ago, I think it's gonna be pretty comfortable. Still, it's sitting there, unfinished. Oh, and it'd be our Sunday bike ride. Another goal, chipped away!

Here's to getting up and dusting yourself off ...

why tracking my food is important

Omuhgod I've started this blog entry about five bajillion times. Because it's half reflection, half confession and I don't know which one should come first.

bullet points
- Tracking is important to me because it helps me focus on healthy decision-making.
- I have not tracked for at least a month. Isn't this funny? Because I've just finished part one of four-part series detailing how I built my tracking tools.

This may read very heavy, but I share it with a light heart, and the objectivity of a lab study. These are facts (for myself) I'm laying out. Some of them talk about guilt and shame and the like, but I don't feel guilt or shame for having an area that needs improvement. I think of this as the coach telling me I really need to work on my follow-through, because I keep sending the baseball directly to right field.

what it means & what happens when i don't track
Not tracking my food is something like a harbinger; it's also something like a symptom. Not tracking usually comes as the result of something; but it also results in things. Some background on what tracking does do for me ...

Tracking assigns eating cues. I have never (ever) been someone who eats out of hunger. Left to my own devices, I grab the food that tastes good and that I imagine will make me happy in that moment. It doesn't matter if that moment is 8 a.m., noon, 2 p.m., 7 p.m., 11 p.m. When I track my food — within a context of how much is appropriate to eat in a given day — I'm much more aware of how much fuel my body actually needs.

Tracking brings focus. My good habits require attention in a way that my bad habits don't. Tracking food is a ritual I repeat throughout the day, throughout the week. It requires me to stop and think about the food I choose to eat, and to answer for the decisions I make. That attention to cause and effect is enough to help me make good decisions. I feel more power to wait between meals, or to snack smartly.

... then when I'm not tracking ...

I lose focus. When I lose that sense of direction (sometimes for very innocuous things, like happy celebration times), I tend to let my good habits fall aside. I fill in idle moments with a bite of cheese, or a mindless grab at chips. Without innate hunger cues (which I suppose I may never gain), I have no idea if I've eaten too much on any given day (and usually the answer that I conveniently avoid by not tracking is that I have, indeed, eaten too much).


Giving in. ... to the cheese. And bread and butter. Cookie dough. More cheese. Things that don't contribute to my nutritional needs for the day. Indulgences. Every day. Isn't indulgence meant to be occasional? Isn't it meant to be special? I have nothing against the cheese, or bread and butter, or cookie dough. I think they're all a fine part of a healthy diet. But within the context of mindfulness.


I feel I have a terrible secret. Because when I'm not tracking, I give myself a pass to eat whatever I want, whenever. And that feels really good in the moment. And I don't want to give up those moments. So I keep them to myself. And a secret is terrible. Mostly, it reflects shame or a level of self-awareness that I'm not willing to face. This is food for Christ's sake! I should feel empowered enough to admit that I ate that block of cheese, damnit, and I won't let it get in my way of making the right decision next time! But I don't admit it, and keeping it to myself becomes a reason to make the next bad decision.


so, i confessed
Officially, I suppose. And it won't be the last time (it certainly hasn't been the first). But I would like to gain something for next time, maybe cut it off earlier in the pass.

no limits, i promise

I think limits are natural, and a defense mechanism. They keep us from doing something dangerous or stupid that could land us in, say, the hospital for, say, trying to leap from the second story of a building just to see what'll happen when we land.

But limits can be dangerous, too, I think.

For instance, I mentioned in my about page that I want to be athletic, but that I'd assumed for a long time it was something I couldn't expect for myself. Why? Because I had this notion that it was out of my reach; beyond my limits.

It's not like I'd ever actually attempted to be athletic and failed, though. And I certainly hadn't attempted it over and over and failed, the way you really should to understand that something is off-limits to you.

I just put a little wall between me and this thing, and I decided it wasn't worth trying to overcome (because, remember? I'm lazy).

So no more limits. Even when things get hard. Because if I establish limits, I establish the points at which I'm willing to give up.

practically speaking?
- Practically speaking, it means I'm aiming for the stars with that 18% body fat goal (the lady athletes come in at between 14% and 20% body fat);

- practically speaking, it means I'm going to push harder when I'm ready to quit (Patrick and I did a 14-mile bike ride Sunday; I climbed hills with my butt *out* of the seat, even though I hate doing it);

- and practically speaking, it means on bad days, when I think having a bad day means I'm not good enough to make this work, I'm just gonna shut the fuck up and put that bullshit in its place.

oh right, i'm lazy

As I've pushed my physical limits in the past few weeks, I'm reminded of one of my biggest hurdles: my own laziness. And I'm not just talking exercise or physical activity. At any given moment, I'd rather sit still and get lost in thought than do ... just about anything. There've been very few things in life that wake me up in the morning excited for the day.

Add to that 1) a loath to continue doing anything I'm not good at; and 2) a knack for procrastination, and it's a wonder that I don't actually weigh about 100 pounds more.

So what exactly is it that's got me thinking about this now? Well, I brought myself to the edge of disappointment on that 23-mile bike ride with Patrick this past Sunday. I was beating myself up for being a wimp (aka, struggling to climb tiny hills on my lowest gears, and with my butt hunched limply on the seat). I momentarily entertained the idea that I don't have what it takes to get fit. That I'd ultimately crumble to the judgment I placed on myself and the difficulty of the work.

This sounds less like a crossroads with laziness than with self-doubt, which I suppose it is. But I see the laziness in that willingness to give up, and possibly under so little actual pressure: it was my first bike ride after years of not cycling. And it was 23 miles, perhaps the longest leisurely ride I've ever done outside our trips along the Creeper Trail.

But all I saw was a little wall ahead, and I thought it might be better to turn around then to try to climb over it (or at least hang out at the bottom until my powers of persuasion tore it down).

I'll wager I've met these moments before, with a wall in the distance and my ego deflated. And I know for a fact that I haven't gone around climbing any walls. Which means that even just the promise of a wall has been enough to turn me away from any serious attempt (just an attempt!!) to achieve my goals.

You know what, though? Change is here.

I was seriously deflated on Sunday, but as we got closer to home, I was already talking about incorporating long rides into our weekend plans more often; even lugging our bikes on the weekend trips we take to Asheville, N.C., (where there are serious hills ... and 12 Bones Smokehouse, where even their sides platter would be the perfect reward for riding those hills).

And in the other moments that I've felt overwhelmed recently -- climbing in spin class, getting my ass kicked trying to barely keep up in abs class -- I've carried that self-doubt and frustration, but as if it's extra weight. As if it's part of the exercise. There's usually a moment that I want to drop it and walk away. But I don't. I haven't.

I won't proclaim exactly "no more laziness for me" (which I nearly did; I wrote it, then I deleted it), because I will have bad days, I will have days where rest seems like a better option than moving (whether or not that'll be true). But I can say that at least I know I can push past laziness, knock it into the dirt, turn around to trample it with my bike.

What this means to me in the long run is I Don't Exactly Know What. Because I've never pushed far enough to know my true limits, if there are any. I don't know how I react, or how my body reacts, to climbing over a wall.