Short Post

I'm getting ready for a party. And I'm in over my head. And Jim isn't here to bail me out like he usually is.

The good news? The food is done and ready. Some healthy, some not so. My list is down to a few things for tonight and I think it's all going to be OK.

I didn't get some things done ... I hope the ladies who come pretend to not notice the weeds outside, the disastrous garage, and the refrigerator shelves that I didn't wipe off.

On the bright side, the extra calories I just burned as I swept the front walk and garage can't hurt.

Tale of Two Cyclists

When I ride my bike to work, I carry my "good" clothes in a backpack, lock my bike up, hit the showers and then go about my business.

I hang my sweaty riding gear to dry in my office and when the workday is done, I reverse the process ... sneak to the bathroom, put on my now-dry-but-sort-of-stinky ensemble, wad up my work clothes and tuck them into my backpack and head for the bike rack.

Which means I have to stride through the building in my bike stuff.

Looking like a royal dork.

But Monday, I had company.

There's a guy who works in Tech who rides his own bike to work. We hit the elevator at the same time and I had to laugh.

His bike is heavier and louder than mine. And it has a motor. Or I suspect it does ... I didn't actually see it, because we headed for separate doors once we landed on the first floor.

But picture me in padded shorts, a neon yellow long sleeve shirt, white helmet and half-finger gloves. Thinking I'm sort of tough.

Then imagine him in full leathers ... pants and jacket ... carrying a serious helmet like this:



And he, of course, knows I'm not remotely tough by comparison.

I bet his ride home was a whole bunch faster than mine.

Body Image Confusion

I have been thinking about this photo since Saturday. You may have already seen it on my Facebook page and I'm sorry for bothering you with it twice if you have.



This is a photo of me and my mom. And The Kaiser. Or Col. Klink. Or Captain Uff Da. Or some happy German dude at Milwaukee's German Fest. It was the first time we'd been to the celebration by the lake and we had a ball. As in: We. Had. A. Ball!

My mom was like a kid in a candy store as we rode the ski lift thingy, sampled a few beers, danced a few polkas and ate our way around the park.  I'm not normally one that's remotely into my very German heritage, but this party was just plain, old fun and I can't wait to go back next year.

But the bummer is this is the photo I have to remember it.

I hate this photo. I'm not sure if it's a horrible angle or if I really look like that, but the girl in this photo is NOT the girl I see in the mirror and it really bothers me.

I think I look thick as hell and I just don't get it.

Have I gained 11 pounds since my skinniest? Yes. Do I know that I need to lose those pounds again? Yes.

But these are the same shorts I have been comfortably wearing for three summers. That little white hoodie is one of my favorites and I always thought it made me look smaller ... good seams.

I can't tell you how many times I fought the urge to go back onto Facebook and pull the photo down. I posted it in a fit of exuberance as we were singing and laughing and carrying on ... so I didn't really look too carefully at it. When I had the chance to evaluate, I just wanted it to disappear.

I've told you before that I struggle with knowing what I actually look like. When I was bigger, I couldn't see myself as "that" big. When I was truly smaller, like in high school, the me I saw in the mirror was enormous.

It's messing with my head. And effing with my self esteem.

Yesterday, I let it get the best of me. I didn't work out. I ate very badly. (And all day long.) That voice of doubt and fear and embarrassment was reverberating in my head.

"You're fat! You're gaining it all back! You didn't look as good as you thought you did. 147 is still huge, Lisa. And 11 pounds more than that is not in any way thin. You've been kidding yourself and making a fool of yourself. You're blowing it."

Today, I chose to ride my bike to work and, so far anyway, eat much better.

Because in the end, that's all I can do.

It's simple. But not easy.

(And if my mother knew she was on the Inter Web in that half squat pose with her eyes closed, she'd kill me. But I gotta be honest, she has her eyes closed in EVERY photo I take of her, so there's not much I can do. Don't tell her the whole world can see her, OK?)

Feels So Good

I can't even begin to describe how good yesterday's run was.

The weather was perfect. I felt so good. So freaking good. My breathing was controlled and rhythmic. All I could hear was my feet hitting the pavement and the wind in the trees.

My neighbor Sid was on his garden tractor, mowing the lawn. I waved, as I always do. He smiled as he waved back ... and then did a little pantomime of breathless runner, tongue hanging out, gasping for air, as he always does. I laughed and kept going.

I climbed hills and they didn't seem to be a very big deal. I kept my shoulders back and my arms loose. I noticed the Queen Anne's Lace in bloom.

It felt like old times. I didn't struggle. I didn't feel heavy and weighted down.

It was fun. It was all of the things I love about running.

I just flat out, absolutely, without a doubt love running.

It makes me feel free. And powerful. And strong. I am the best version of me when I am in that place.

Please, dear God, let me continue.

Airport Food

Here I sit. In Orlando's airport amid lightening strikes. So we're all delayed for a while.

My food choices in this part if the terminal were McDonald's, Au Bon Pan, a bar & grill and Sbarro. I opted for Au Bon Pan, grateful for the calorie counts on the menu (and for the fact that more of they shrieking kids were at Mickey D's).

I opted for a salad with tuna, skipped the side of bread.

And then ate a big bag of Snyder's mimi pretzels. Whoops.

I might be here a while.

It Starts When You are Honest with Yourself

Lately, I've been thinking a lot about thinking.

Thinking about my self-declared universal truth that says, "Your brain is the hardest muscle to train." And thinking about body image and how strange my own is sometimes. And thinking about the ways I talk myself into and out of doing right, wrong and otherwise.

On the one hand, this whole drama we call losing weight or getting healthy or getting fit seems so complicated. How to eat. When to eat. What to eat. What NOT to eat. How to exercise. When to exercise. What exercise is right/enough/good/bad. How to convince yourself to exercise even when you don't want to. What is the difference between not wanting to and not able to. It all makes my head spin.

And then I remember ...

It's not that hard.

The truth is, in the end, it's calories in, calories out. Simple math. And there's no magic pill, no complicated algorithm to success. If you're gaining weight, you're not eating right and you're not burning enough off.

That's it. That's all there is.

But you can't do anything about it until you acknowledge it. If you're not honest with yourself about what you're putting in and what you're burning off, you simply cannot fix it.

Does the handful of potato chips matter? Yes. Does one beer really make a difference? Yes. Does one cookie count? Yes. Every single time.

As soon as you are honest with yourself about what "true" is, you can get to work on how to make it better. The truth is, acknowledging the reality might be easier, as hard as it is, then investigating the whys.

Why do I grab those potato chips? Why to I drink that one beer? Why can't I stop with one cookie?

From where I sit, though, finding why is just a stall tactic in some ways. Does it really matter why? At some point, you just have to decide to do it.

And then do it. Whether you like it or not. Whether you're ready or not. Whether it's hard or not.

(Spoiler alert: You're not going to like it most of the time. You're not ever going to be ready. And it's going to be hard some days.)

Does this sound harsh? I'm not accusing you of anything. In fact, if anything, I'm accusing me. I fall into these same traps. All. The. Time. I want to blame someone or something for why I'm not successful.

In the end, it's all on me.

And as soon as I am honest with myself ... and start to believe I'm worth the effort ... it gets easier.

Bike Essentials

Here's what I take when I bike:

Clockwise from top left:

Bike Helmet: This goes without saying, right, when you're riding on the road with cars whizzing by you at 55 mph or more.

Hydration: I have two water bottle holders on my bike. And, sadly, only one free Home Depot water bottle. So I carry a regular bottle of water, too. Getting the cap off can be  a challenge for someone as uncoordinated as me, but it's doable. When it's really hot, I also carry a water bottle in the pocket on my bike shirt. Bike shirts have pockets on your back.

Gloves: Mine are half-finger gloves with pads that sit right above your palm and below where your fingers. (I'm not sure what that part of your hand is called?) Now, there are those of you that will say gloves are overkill and make you look like a dork. And you might be right. I like them because the padding absorbs some of the bouncy/shock, but mostly because they absorb sweat. With them, my slimy hands don't slide on the handlebars.

Phone Case: This baby has two velcro loops on the back to hook it over the bar that goes between your legs and connects to the handlebars. I can operate the phone from the clear plastic cover, but I never do. There's enough room for a credit card/cash and ID if I so choose to put it in there.

Pepper Spray: See yesterday's reasoning.

Sunglasses: Necessary for me. These are not-remotely-fancy safety/sunglasses that I found in Jim's shop.

I also wear a Bondi Band under my helmet to keep the sweat out of my eyes. And padded bike shorts. And as loudly/brightly/neonly colored shirt as I can find ... so cars can see me.

The Walk/Run Essentials

Every good hobby has equipment. Here's mine for when I'm walking or running. (And I love how these appear to be glowing. Just so you know, I'm taking most of these photos with my phone ... so don't expect high quality images.)

From left to right, back row first:

Phone Case: It's made out of a neoprene-ish fabric and it goes on my upper arm. I almost always wear it on my left. But I do move it around, upper arm, lower arm, left and right, if it's sunny to avoid a wierd tan line.

Body Glide: This is like deoderant, without the anti-perspirant properties. I smear it underneath my upper arms to protect me from chaffing. Can be used on legs, nipples (men have issues with them rubbing against shirts), etc.

Water Bottle: This is a hand-held 8 or 10 ouncer. You can't see it very well, but there's a strap on the back that wraps around the back of my hand. I own two of these and if it's hot or I'm going for a long one, I will carry two. I like the strap vs. just carrying a ordinary water bottle because I can hold the strap in my mouth as I take off a long sleeve shirt while continuing to run. And I don't have to keep such a tight grip on the bottle to hold onto it ... which allows me to relax my shoulders and hold my form better.

Front row:
Pepper Spray: It's in a little velcro holder, too, so I can wrap it around my hand, or around the tank part of my top. If I'm wearing shorts that have a pocket in back, I'll stuff it in there and take it out only when I get near the house with the over-zealous Golden.

And, of course ... shoes, Bondi band and occasionally, my iPad Shuffle.

Snot Rockets, Crotch Zits and Other Workout Beauty Secrets

There are some things you just need to know. Even if you don't want to know them. This will be one of those posts. If you are easily offended or grossed out, you might want to read The Everywhereist instead. (She's a better writer than I am, anyway, and I heartily recommend you bookmark the page.)

I'm about to describe some of the truly ugly and disgusting facts about getting healthier. The idea came to me on Saturday during my long run. Read why below.

Snot Rocket: I already told you how I bonked for the first time on that trip. During that last three-quarters of a mile, my nose was running something terribly. I couldn't sniff it back anymore. I obviously didn't have access to a tissue. So there I was, on the side of the road, with my finger pressing on one nostril at a time. Snot rocket. Farmer blow. No matter what you call it, it ain't pretty.

Crotch Zits: I'm not sure this is really the right name for this, umm, condition. So let me explain. This happens to me primarily when I'm biking. Occasionally, I will get a pair of underwear that cuts me wrong "there." Or maybe it's the way I sit on the saddle. Or maybe it's the way the bike shorts crease when I pedal. Or maybe it's a bumpy seam in the underoos or shorts. In any case, there must be friction or something ... that combines with sweat ... that forms a big, hard, underground zit-like bump. It hurts like crazy, sometimes for a couple of days after the ride. It usually takes care of itself, but again, not attractive.

Hedge Burn: As long as we're on the subject, this one should come as no surprise. If one does any sort of, well, landscaping south of the border, the closeness of biking shorts or compression shorts and the heat/dampness that comes with riding or running can cause what I call heat rash in the pruned areas. You're feeling sexy now, right?

The Walking Farts: Do I need to explain this any more than that? Sometimes, aerobic activity results in an accidental symphony. Ugh.

Corner Crust: Jim insists this has never happened to him. But when I workout for a long time, I get a dried on crust-like substance on the corners of my mouth. It's probably a combination of sweat and drool and exhaled air. When I'm on my bike, I wipe it off with my gloves. When I run, I have to wait until I'm in the shower and have a washcloth. It doesn't just rinse off ... you have to scrub. I live in mortal fear that someday I will forget to wipe it off and go out into the world with saliva all over my face. .

Then, of course there's your basic stinky sweat, which just comes with the territory.

To make you smile, I thought I'd show you what I look like BEFORE I start my workout in the morning. And, this is AFTER I have run a brush though my hair. The good news is I start sweating pretty quickly and this all calms down. In other words, it gets BETTER from here. Ha!



The lady that puts so much time and effort into my highlights would be horrified.

My First Bonk

The weirdest thing happened to me yesterday on my long run. And it freaked me out. Has this ever happened to you?

Rewind to yesterday, 8:30 a.m.

My plan is to run for a bit if my body feels OK, doing a total of 8-9 miles. I'm excited that it's cooler and less humid. I take my time waking up and grab some green grapes as I get ready to head outside. I have a tank and shorts on, shoes and socks, a Bondi headband. I also fill my handheld water bottle and hit the driveway before 9 ... maybe 8:45-ish. I'm not paying that close of attention to the clock.

Jim and his pals are in the driveway tearing apart something in one of the trucks. I give them a nod and head out.

I walk the first quarter mile, just like I normally do. I notice that the humidity is noticeably less. My route has three legs ... I start at the center, if that makes sense, and spoke out in three different directions. So the first spoke is a run. It feels pretty good, to be honest. I run for 3.5 to 3.75 miles. The last half mile isn't pretty, but I'm not struggling. I slow to a walk for the second spoke. It's mostly sunny, with a bit of shade near my turnaround point. I notice there that my water is running low. But I'm not hot and I figure it's no big deal.

As I make my way back to the "center," I contemplate turning for home and not completing the third spoke. I have just a few swigs of water left and I'm tired. But I remember that I'm traveling next week and that my workout schedule will be hit and miss, so I know it's better to get a good workout in today when I have the time and I trudge on.

Now I just want to make this go as fast as possible. This spoke is more shady and therefore cooler. So I start a walk-run pattern, just trying to get home as fast as I can. All of a sudden I notice I'm tired. Really tired. And I'm thirsty. Really thirsty. And then it hits me.

Wham.

I'm not sure I can actually go on. I am not sure I can put one foot in front of the other. Right here, right now, I just can't go.

I contemplate calling Jim. I've stopped in a shady spot. I'm taking big breaths. I'm trying to decide if I'm dizzy or if this is just all in my head.

And I'm about three-quarters of a mile from home.

I decide there's no way to get there but to walk, so I set out again. I'm trying to think of something -- anything -- that will keep my mind off of this weird feeling.

After what seems like an eternity, I'm home. I've never been so happy to see my driveway.

Jim was outside. He says something I can't remember and I say, "I need some water." And then I head inside.

I hydrated ... a few gigantic glasses of water and some protein in the form of a beefstick. And a couple of salty pretzels. And a piece of Dove Dark. My logical brain says my body needs some sort of fuel that it didn't have enough of ... so I hit the ones I know. Protein. Salt. Water. Sugar.

And then I sit. After 20 minutes, I'm feeling pretty close to normal. So I shower and we get on with our day.

In retrospect, I still don't get it. I didn't do anything different that morning compared to any other morning. I didn't eat or drink differently. I didn't carry more or less water. It wasn't hotter than it has been. I didn't go farther than I normally do. I didn't go faster ... in fact, I was out there a LONG time, meaning I went slower than usual in spite of the running at the beginning.

So I think I "bonked." http://beta.active.com/triathlon/articles/what-you-need-to-know-about-the-dreaded-bonk

I'm fine now. I took it easy today on my bike, just in case.

But it scared me and I don't think I want to do that again.

P.S. This is why you should always carry your phone with you.

What Every Girl Dreams Of

Saturday in my house normally is most/all of these things, though not necessarily in this order:
Long Workout Day.
Grocery Store Day. (Which leads into Cutting Up Fruit and Veggies Day.)
Food/Fun/Treat Day.
Miscellaneous Errand Day.
Spend Time with Jim Day.

First I did the long workout. (I'll talk about that at a later time. Oy.) Then Jim and I ran to town for lunch, errands and grocery shopping.

The errand list was short. Buy a weight bench. You see, the one I've been using isn't really mine. It's our daughter's ... one we gave her years ago for Christmas. However, right now she's living in a one-bedroom apartment and there just isn't room for it. So I've been "storing" it.

When she texted this past week to let me know she found a new two-bedroom place and would be moving in on the 1st of August, she adorably asked, and I quote, "Umm. Are you using my weight bench in the basement? If you are, I can let you have it and I'll get a different one. If you don't want it, I'd like to use it."

Cracked me right up. It's HERS. But she was going to let me have it. Nice kid, huh?

I assured her that it was HERS to do with as she wished and promised her that I'd help her move it. I teased her that I was going to charge her a small storage fee, and then we agreed she could charge me a usage fee ... so we called it even at $0.

Off to Sears! We upgraded a bit. Instead of a bench with a bar, we got one of those resistance, all-in-one deals where you can do a few different exercises. It will allow Jim to actually get some use out of it, too, since there's a 330-lb. max. It was on sale AND I got an extra 5% off for using my Sears credit card (that I forgot I even had).


While at the mall, we walked by Fannie Mae. And stopped in. And got a free sample (appricot creme .. yum!). And then we each bought one of our favorites, licking our fingers all the way to the car.

Next up, Woodmans. As we walked in, cases of my favorite Grapefruit 0 calorie water was on sale.

Seriously. Could this day get any better?

On the way home, Jim jokes, "You are one lucky woman. A weight bench, grapefruit water and chocolate. I am so good to you."

OK, it's an odd trio, right? But I can't think of anything more perfect. He's right.

Best of all, he carried the damn thing to the basement.

I am one lucky girl.

He's a Winner!

Look what the Habitat for Humanity Fairy delivered to my office today ... and what I got to deliver to my husband, in turn:

The lucky duck got a medal for the race we did in May. His first race. Ever. His only race. Likely ever. I tried to tease him and remind him that it's possible that there were only three people in his age group. But he doesn't care. And truthfully, neither do I. 

He entered the race because he wanted to make me happy. He completed the race all on his own. And he crossed the finish line just like the first place winner of his age group did and just like the overall winner did. 

That seems like a good reason for a medal. 

Enduring

Today I had a friend stop me in the break room.

"You ride your bike to work, right?" he asked.

"Yup. I try to ... once a week," I replied. "I did today, as a matter of fact."

"Can I ask you something? How do you increase your endurance?"

And then we had a nice chat about what he's doing ... Weight Watchers alum, lost weight, stuck at current weight now and just joined a crazy cross-fit class. (How cool is that?)

He said the class is fun and he likes the variety and the strength-based activities, but finds the more cardio-focused stuff hard.

I gave my usual answers.

How do you get better at something? You keep doing it. You do it when you don't feel like it. You do it when it's uncomfortable/awkward/hard. You keep doing it and then you try to do it a little bit more each day.

That's the only way I know to get better. To go farther. To be faster. You just keep doing it.

As with any skill, it takes practice. The more you do it, the better you get. No one starts as an expert. No marathon runner ran 25 miles the first day, and 26.2 the next.

Our chat stayed with me.

Fast forward to this morning. I decided it was too hot to walk outside, so I hit my trusty treadmill in the cool basement. And I ran. For 3 consecutive miles. Which is the farthest I've gone in a LONG time. It was uncomfortable, awkward and hard.

But I knew it was time for me to put my money where my mouth was.

I haven't felt good running in a long time. It's like I'm all discombobulated. Nothing feels natural or tight or normal. I've been blaming my knee for messing with my gait and blah, blah, blah.

Truth is, it feels funny because I haven't been doing it.

Today, I felt good on that damn treadmill. Because I was doing it.

Thanks, friend, for the unintentional slap up side 'da head.

I know you will do it, too. Because you have decided to. It's not quite that simple. But it's not a whole lot more complicated, either.

P.S. Per Paul Harvey, I want you to know the Rest of the Story ... Yes, I rode my bike to work on Tuesday. The ride in wasn't bad. Warm enough to wear sleeveless, but not hot at that early hour. But humid. Now, remember, I shower once I get there. My clothes dry while I put my day in and then I put them back on for the ride home ... which was a whole bunch HOTTER. As I was blogging last night, I caught a whiff of myself. Not good. Not good at all. Two steamy hour-long workouts in one set of clothes on a "heat index" day was a bit too much. Peeeeee-Uuuuuuuu!

Weight, Weight, Here's an Update!

I wanted to share what's going on in my strength program.

I told you about my summer plan here: http://carsickcaravan.blogspot.com/2013/06/drops.html where I was doing "drops."

I'm still doing them. Every third day. But I have some exciting news to report. I have added reps and weight!

So here's what I started with, and where I am now:

Exercise                             Start                    Now
Crouch Lateral Raise           5 lb. each hand     10 lbs. each hand
Crouch Tricep Kickbacks    5 lb. each hand     10 lbs. each hand
Overhead Tricep Extension  10 lbs.                 15 lbs.
Standing Rows                   5 lbs. each hand    None
Plank Row                         None                    5 lbs. each hand

I started with drops of 40/30/20/10 reps. Now I'm doing 45/35/25/15.

Other exercises:
Bench Press: I started with 3 sets of 8 reps each at 65 lbs. I have added a whopping 5 pounds. And no reps.

Seated Bicep Curls: I started with 3 sets of 15 reps each. I have not changed a thing.

I feel stronger. I can see muscles.

They match my growing thighs.

Sometimes It's Better to Not Know

Saturday night, I plotted my route.

I knew I needed to go 20 miles away from my house to make a 40-mile round trip. Last week, I did big, 11-mile concentric circles around my neighborhood and my brain needed something different this week.

So I pulled up the Map My Run website and started with my to-work commute. Then I added a big 10-ish mile country block on to it and ended up with a 42-mile route.

The website doesn't tell me how hilly the road is. Nor does it tell my how many cars are on it. Nor the speed limit. Nor if the shoulders are paved or not.

And it's probably a good thing.

Because the route I picked was hilly. Really hilly. Really, really hilly.

At every turn, I saw another one. But there I was. Fifteen to 20 miles from home. I had no option ... had to keep going. (And swear. Out loud. But that's allowed.)

So keep going I did.

And then once I got back into familiar territory, I made a few adjustments to avoid a particularly long hill. (That's also totally legal, by the way.)

In the end, I'm glad I didn't know beforehand how hilly it was going to be. I probably would have wussed out and chosen an easier route.

Which means I would have denied myself this feeling of super hero awesomeness. We all need a little awesomeness, don't we?

Wish I had a cape. A fluorescent one. So I could wear it while I ride.

P.S. The truth is my last-minute re-route shaved a bit off of my overall mileage, too. There's almost always a difference between the Map My Run website (where I plan) and the ap on my phone (that clocks me on the ride). The site always seems to measure a little longer. Knowing this, I added a small detour at the very end of my trip to cruise past my in-laws house and inspect the landscaping project my husband and kid did Saturday night. I think it looked pretty good. But I was so tired at that point, I really didn't see it. Don't tell them. I SAID it looked great.

Great News

It's been a looooooonnnnggg week. This is kind of how it went ... metaphorically:

1. The exercise that's best for my knee ... the one that my physical therapist says I simply can't do enough of ... the one that will help me delay a knee replacement ... the one that is good cardio and good core ... is biking. It's also the one exercise that will make my thighs bigger than they are now. Sigh.

2. The one true addiction I have ... the one vice ... the one thing that I just can't imagine giving up ... the one thing I look forward to every day ... is Cherry Coke Zero. And new research (http://thechart.blogs.cnn.com/2013/07/10/diet-soda-may-do-more-harm-than-good/?hpt=he_c2) shows that not only does diet soda NOT help you lose weight, it might just mess up your body enough to cause you to gain weight. In addition to rotting your teeth and giving you acid reflux and maybe cancer, of course. Yippeee.

3.  The one thing I do to avoid eating is to chew gum ... a lot of gum ... I mean a LOT of gum ... Mentos is my favorite. And for the past two weeks, I have somehow managed to bite the inside of my cheek, and then my lip, so badly that I can't chew gum. You know how it gets all swollen and then it's in the way and then you end up biting it again. And again. And again. I cried tonight as we were getting dinner ready and I was snacking on home-grown cucumbers. Seriously?

But hey. At least I can bike. And one soda a day isn't likely to kill me, even if I have to back off a bit. I'll probably even survive no gum. If these are the biggest issues I have in my life, I'm still doing pretty well, right?

Bring on the weekend. Hope you find some sunshine, too.

Photo Op

Today was a strange day for me.

I had my photo taken. 

This might not seem that weird or monumental, but for me, it was kind of a big deal. A big deal because it was a big reminder of the difference between old me and this me. 

Here's the story: I run a business-to-business direct mail company. What is that? It's a company that sells stuff to other companies via a catalog and website. So, think about the place where the company you work for orders things like pens and pencils from. Or furnace filters. Or corrugated boxes. 

My company doesn't sell pens, pencils, furnace filters or corrugated boxes, but you get the idea. 

One of the most important things about our company is that we want to be friendly and "known" by our customers. The industry we serve is a fairly small, tight-knit group and they want the companies they do business with to be familiar ... like small-town neighbors. As such, we spend a lot of time at trade shows shaking hands and sharing stories. And we also use our staff as "models" in the catalog. The people that take your order when you call in are in the catalog on the pages where we talk about our outstanding service. The guy who picks out what products we sell shows up on the cover when we're promoting what's new. I hope that makes sense.

Right now, we're in the process of making a special catalog that has a special message. It was determined that the message was best delivered by me. Which means I had to have my photo taken, so I could appear in the catalog. 

Now, I have worked for a catalog company of one sort or the other for 23 years. Employees are cheap models (as in "free") and if you work at one, it's likely that at some point you appear in a catalog. You might be a hand model or your feet might be in a pair of boots. Or if you're really charming or photogenic (not necessarily pretty ... but comfortable in front of the camera), you might be on a cover or in some sort of action shot. 

I have never been in a catalog before. The old me was never asked. And the old me would have been mortified had I somehow been required. 

I would not have been comfortable enough with myself to allow it to happen. And I would have beaten myself up for not being able to do it. 

The new me didn't exactly enjoy the process. And the new me had a really hard time looking at the photo in the layout when the graphic designer brought it to me for my OK this afternoon. 

But I was able to do it. 

I'm still surprised, even after three years, at how old me still creeps into my head and makes me pause every once in awhile. She tries to pick away at my confidence and poke me back down into that dark box where I feel doubt and fear and shame.  

So happy that new, strong me can kick her ass.

I hope if you get tired of letting your Old Me boss you around, you can find a New Me to do the same. 

Fair Food

I spent today at the Jefferson County Fair. It was my niece's fair horse show debut and we had a blast. Can't wait to go back on Saturday when she's got two more classes.

The day afforded me the "opportunity" to eat on the midway. So I did a little sleuthing to see if one CAN eat healthy in a place that is famous for deep fried anything on a stick and cream puffs as big as your head.

Unfortunately, the results are not surprising. Not much good stuff to pick from. But some is definitely better than the rest.

Better options:

Sweet corn. You control the butter. Yes, it's a starchy grain with not a lot of nutritional value, but it's still better than fried cheese curds.

Grilled chicken gyro. Grilled chicken, onion, tomato, yogurt-based tzatziki sauce and a pita. The pita isn't whole grain, but that's not what kills you, really. It's the overall size of "one" serving. Best to share and go very light on the sauce, but still better from a nutritional standpoint than a corn dog or giant slice of pizza in my view.

Single scoop ice cream cone. Real ice cream ... mine was mint chocolate chip. Still clocks in with plenty of calories, but perhaps a good choice over a dinner-plate-sized funnel cake with powdered sugar, chocolate sauce and strawberries. A snow cone, light on syrup, is probably also a pretty good trade. It takes a long time to eat and hits the sweet spot.

Baked potato. Just go easy on the toppings. Better than French fries and usually big enough to share.

Popcorn/kettlecorn. Salty? Yes. I'd head toward the kettlecorn stand before the trailer with the lights just because I can see what they're using for oil and salt/sugar/flavorings. But in any case, the popcorn seems like a better idea than the loaded nachos. Hey, it's a whole grain, right?

Chocolate-covered frozen banana. Pick off some of the chocolate. Leave the cheesecake on a stick dipped in chocolate for someone else.

When in doubt, stick to a plain hamburger or even a hotdog instead of something battered, breaded or deep fried. And remember, it's portion size that gets you. If you really want a funnel cake, or the deep fried cookie dough on a stick, share it with four or five friends. Get a bite, satisfy the craving ...

... and then do one more lap of the midway!

Or, try jumping for 10 minutes on this thing.

Hot and Humid Favorite Things

1. Planters Nut*tition Energy Mix Berry Nut Peanut Butter
I quite literally have four different nut butters in my fridge right now. I buy them, try them and generally don't like them. But because I've shelled out good money for it, I can't throw it away. So they sit in the fridge until they turn gross and then I feel OK about tossing them. Dumb, huh? I agree. However, I don't need to worry about that problem with this stuff. It's so freaking good that I have to worry about using too MUCH every morning. It's got dried cranberries and chunks of peanuts, making it creamy and chewy and crunchy and so very yummy.

2. Watermelon
Jim and I easily eat a watermelon a week. Actually, probably more than that. I'm not sure who decided that a "serving" of watermelon is a cup, but they don't live here. A serving in this house is a mixing bowl. And then I pee all night long.

3. Luna Bars
I use these as meal replacements when I'm traveling or in a hurry. They're under 200 calories and they keep me full until the next meal. I really like the chocolate/coconut one and the blueberry one.

4. Maxi skirts
OK, I only have one. But I ADORE it! They look cool on everyone, they allow you to be a bit less ladylike when sitting or moving (knees are not required to be plastered together all the time) and just feel good on your legs.

5. Redken 10 Mousse and Kenra 25 Hairspray
Take that, humidity! If you know me at all, you know I use a LOT of hairspray. Not because I like helmet hair, but because I have totally crappy hair ... thin, straight and limp. It just takes a lot of product to make me look halfway normal. This dynamic duo is my saving grace in hot weather.

Wingin' It Summer Salsa

Don't you hate it when you have some of the ingredients to make a favorite dish, but not all. Or not enough of something to make a whole recipe?

That's when I just wing it. I scour the fridge and the garden and the pantry and try to find enough of whatever to make it make sense.

Tonight I had a couple of leftover tomatoes, but no fresh jalapenos or serranos and no pickled jalapenos, all of which are required in my sister's salsa recipe. But I did have an avocado and a can of corn ... and Italian banana pepper rings in a jar. Knowing that for good salsa, you need sweet, hot, sour/acid, crunch and color, I improvised.

Isn't this pretty?

Wingin' It Summer Salsa
3 vine ripe tomatoes, seeded and diced
1 can Niblet corn, though fresh or grilled corn would probably be better
1 avocado, diced
1/4 to 1/2 red onion, diced
Handful of cilantro, chopped fine
6-12 pickled banana pepper rings and a swig or two of the juice
Juice of one lime
Salt to taste (and Tajin if you're feeling froggy)

Possible additions: 1 can of rinsed black beans, diced pineapple/peach/plum/nectarine or two, dash hot sauce, little cubes of pepperjack cheese or queso fresco.

Serve on chips, over grilled fish or chicken, with a spoon.

G#$ D&% F@*(!$ing Bugs!

Well THAT was unpleasant!

Just got back from a 5-ish mile walk in the sun and I can honestly say it was one of the very worst workouts I've ever had. 

Not because it was hot. Not because I got a blister. Well, two, actually. Not because I had to go slow to "break in" a new set of shoe inserts from yesterday's visit to PT. 

Those inconveniences I could handle. 

What I can't handle is the flippin' BUGS. 

Oh. My. Gravy. Gnats. Flies. Mosquitoes. Bigger, buzzier things. All zipping around my head like 747s. My walk sounds like this: 

Step. Step. Swat. Step. Slap. Swat. Wave. Step. Swat. Fan. Wave. Step ...

And I can only imagine how it looks. I'm slapping myself in the face. Brushing bugs off my head. Waving my arms around, trying to shoo them away as they fly into my ears and my mouth. 

My pony tail isn't this voluptuous.

The worst part is that this is the second time this week the bugs showed up. My cousin and I had a nice 7-8 miler on Thursday on the Sugar River Trail between Brodhead and Albany and the mosquitoes were NUTS. I was getting bit as we walked from the car to the trail. 

I guess I have a new pre-workout checklist: 

Phone. Water. iPod. Pepper spray. And, now ... bug spray.

My Sister, the Blackmail Queen

Call this a preemptive strike.

Yesterday's 4th of July celebration got a little out of control. And I'm not going to lie. I was right in the middle of it.

Now, I know what you're thinking. Too much beer? Nope. Southern Comfort and bottle rockets? Nah.

It was a 35-year-old hula hoop and an iPad that caused all of the trouble. I was stone cold sober.

You see, my mom saved our hula hoops. Circa 1978. And my nieces frequently play with them when they visit grandma. My sister and I each had one, identical of course to avoid arguments. They are white, with a red and blue stripe. Each sports a piece of black electrical tape, which I assume was expertly applied by my dad when, perhaps, they started to come apart once upon a time. They also feature rocks/ballast/marbles inside the tube so they make a noise when they whip around your middle.

Because it was such a beautiful day, we all ended up outside before our cookout. Shooting hoops, riding bikes, and visiting in lawn chairs. It wasn't long before the girls got the hula hoops out and we started calling out challenges.

"Can you do it around your neck?"

"Can you move it from your neck to your body?"

"On an arm!"

"Try your knees!"

They obliged. At one point, the youngest was pedaling a long-ago-outgrown tricycle while spinning the hula hoop on her neck. It was hilarious.

And then it happened.

I decided to see if I could still hula hoop.

The good news? I can.

The bad news? My sister's iPad somehow managed to capture it all. And, yes, I look just like an old woman trying to hula hoop. The soundtrack is her laughing her head off, barely able to breathe.

I'm hoping that should you happen to come across my sister anytime soon, you'll politely decline when she offers to show you the video.

Learn more here: http://www.hulahooping.com/index.html

Eeeek! A Boy in the Girl's Locker Room!

I rode my bike to work Tuesday. All went well and I'm really starting to enjoy the trip. I look forward to it.

The hardest part, however, is making sure my ducks are in a row before I leave my house. Clothes including bra and underwear? Check. Make up? Check. Deodorant? Check. Shoes that match the clothes? Check. You get the idea.

I was halfway to work Tuesday when I realized I'd left my key card at home. It lives in my car when it's not on me ... in a cupholder. And there it still was, as I was pedaling through the south side of town.

Our building requires a card to get in the front door and it has to be flashed again on the 4th floor to get from the atrium where the elevator lands to the offices or anytime you move between floors. Luckily for me, someone I knew was arriving just as I finished locking up my bike and I hitched a keycard ride, making it to my office just fine.

But then I had a problem. Without a keycard, I couldn't get to the locker room on the 3rd floor and back up again.

So after calling Jim and asking him to drop off my own card, I cruised the hallway outside my office where my team sits. Jeff was busily working, headphones in. I said hi, in full bike regalia (can't take off the helmet because the hair is not displayable!) and asked him if I could borrow his keycard for 30 minutes. He obliged.

Then it occurred to me that Jeff's keycard had probably never been in the girl's locker room before. And as much I love Jeff, there was something creepy about taking even just the image of him with me. I'm quite sure he doesn't want to see whatever is in that locker room just as much as I and the other ladies would prefer to not be seen.

This was my solution. A little tape and a piece of yellow Post-It Note. I think we both agree it was for the best.

The Grossest Yummy Sandwich Ever!

I have created what I think is a truly disgusting combination of ingredients.

And it's sooooo good! I love it. I have eaten it for two nights already this week and am plotting its third appearance on my dinner plate right now.

I hesitate to tell you this because I'm afraid you'll think I'm nuts.

Try it if you dare. Feel free to doctor it how you want, because I think the moral of the story is, "Weird is good."

Odd Hummus Wrap
1 whole wheat tortilla
Homemade red pepper hummus, heavy on the lemon and garlic (Recipe here: http://www.carsickcaravan.blogspot.com/2010/11/falling-back-into-new-habits.html
Carrots, cut into little matchsticks/strips
Red onion slices
Cauliflower, cut into little bits
Bread and butter pickles, sliced into slices
Spinach leaves
Mint leaves

Spread tortilla with hummus. Pile on the rest of the stuff. Wrap it up. Enjoy!

P.S. I think black olives and/or slices of roasted red pepper would also be good on this. I just didn't have any. Jim won't touch it with a 10-foot pole. Ha!

Finish Strong ... with Boogie

At mile 10 yesterday, I was tired. And thirsty. I only had two big swallows left in my water bottle and had to make a decision on whether or not to turn right and complete the final two miles.

So I popped my earbuds in, cranked the music and kept repeating, "Mind over matter."

I honestly don't remember all of the songs ... "Baby I'm a Firework" was in there. "I Got You Babe" made me smile. I belted out the oooga chackas of "Stuck on a Feeling" loudly, willing myself up the last hill. Maroon 5's "Moves Like Jagger" (which I always sing as "moves like Draeger" while thinking of my pals Seth and Drew) carried me over the other side.

By the time I got to my garage, I was whooped. I had drained the last drop of my water bottle. I was sweaty. I didn't think I had one ounce of try left. Jim was mowing, with his own headphones on and I stood there watching him for a second.

Then it happened.

"I'm Sexy and I Know It" burst into my ears.

And I danced in the driveway.

Full-on, get down, shake my ass dancing, as Jim just shook his head. And laughed.

Apparently, I had some energy left.