Archive for the The Journey Category

Let me begin by saying yesterday was purely dreadful. I felt like Br’er Rabbit after his fight with the tar baby. If you haven’t read that story, you should. There were no winners. But the thing about bad days is, they eventually end and the sun comes up and we get to start over.

And today was glorious! Although it was a little humid I didn’t complain. It was the first time in what felt like many moons that my bones weren’t frozen solid and I was feeling bouncy. I hopped up my hills with Br’er Rabbit’s energy and thought warm, Springy thoughts. While walking I thought about how good it is to be alive, and how lucky I am to be mobile and mostly carefree. After my shower I moved to put pants on and discovered they were a little big. This would put anyone in a good mood but to me, that’s as good as winning the lottery.

So I stuffed my youngest beast-let into the car and we raced off to the babysitter and whammo! Red light. And another. And another. We hit every single red light on the way. But I was still in a good mood and I just kept bopping along thinking, nothing is going to rain on this parade. And then I hit traffic on the highway. So I’m sitting there under an overpass, blaring some 90’s grunge music and thinking, “This is the life. Sitting in traffic, listening to my favorite singer who died from a heroin overdose wail, while I wait to be late for work. This is great! I love my life.” I was so happy I began to wonder if the exhaust pipe in my car was clogged.

I finally arrived at work, 30 minutes late, and my boss, who is supposed to be in a meeting at another campus greets me, “Good morning, Margaret.” And a song starts to play in my mind…. “It’s a pretty good day and I’m looking forward to tomorrow.” Because sometimes my life runs on a soundtrack. I don’t know why.

And then I see him. No, not my boss. Another guy. Let’s call him The Sultan of Swagger. He’s cocked back in a chair, wearing his winningest smirk all the while pontificating about “the business.” And it’s not what he’s saying, but how he’s saying it that catches my attention. His shoulders are relaxed, his neck is loose, and by the way his shoulders move as he speaks I know that he knows everything about anything. He is just one smooth guy.

Juxtapose this with me making my morning trip to the restroom to make sure my underwear isn’t showing because I forgot a belt(baggy pants, remember?) In there I meet a coifed and casual woman who gives me the standard “How are you today?” greeting.

I should have said fine and moved one. But instead replied, “I’m feeling a little Annie-ish this morning.”

“Pardon me?” She says.

“I’m feeling a bit like Little Orphan Annie this morning.” I say. “You know, (and I begin to sing with exagerated arm movement) It’s a hard knock life for us…” (because as I mentioned earlier it’s humid and now that my hair is dry I feel that I look like a grown up version of the sunny little red haired girl, even though I don’t have red hair).

My co-worker says, “You’re cute.”

Which is exactly what I want to be in the work place. Not Professional, but Cute.

Back to The Sultan. He is new in our area and in reality knows very little about anything. But you would never know this to have a conversation with him because he is so self-confident he could impress a donkey. And for one fleeting moment I wonder if I should be more like him. I mean, I could hold my shoulders that way and cock my head to the side and give off quirky little grins. I could nod my head and use big words. People might even look at me and say, “Look at Margaret. She is one professional lady.”

Alas, that is not who I am, but sometimes I like to think I can swagger. Usually it comes off as more of a goofy grin, wherein my nose crinkles and my eyes get lopsided and I end up looking like a reject from an episode of Seinfeld, but that’s not the point. It’s the attitude that counts. Even if I am just the Matron of Malarchy, when I walk down the hall I hear “Stayin’ Alive” by the Bee Jees and I am every bit as cool as John Travolta was over 30 years ago. And that’s saying something.

I may never be rich. I may never be glamorous. I may never find the cure for the saggy baggy tummy. BUT give me a warm day filled with sunshine, and the satisfaction of knowing I did the very best I could(even in adverse circumstances) and I am one happy girl. Sometimes we have to experience the bad days to really appreciate the good ones. Even if the reason my pants were too big was because I accidentally picked them out of the pile of clothes I slimmed out of months ago.

There are times when I am like a runaway train careening out of control. The bridge is out and the breaks are burned up. I can only stare in absolute horror as I crash into the abyss. This is how intense my physical cravings are. These moments come because I have indulged in sugar more than I ought and I have to start the cycle of weaning myself from it again. These are not simple, “I want a snack” cravings. These are, “I need a chocolate faucet with unlimited access” cravings. Today the cravings are amplified by work stress which has turned them into Gargantuan Cravings of Doom. Meaning, it’s probably only a matter of time before I give in. Which leaves me feeling helpless, hopeless and utterly broken. I have been reading a book called “The Addicted Brain.” I am learning a great deal about addiction and beginning to understand why I use food to calm myself. I have used food this way since I was a child and fighting against it is a brutal and bloody battle. I lose many battles but I continue to fight the war, and probably will until the day I die. Reading this book is helping me to understand that I am not fundamentally flawed. Sure, some of my “need” for relief is psychological but I am utterly relieved to know that much of it is physical. Dr. Michael Kuhar says “Research has taught us how drugs and other pleasures affect the brain. It turns out that drugs, gambling, Internet use, and chocolate all affect the brain in similar ways. The importance of this discovery extends well beyond knowing about drug abuse and pleasure; it impacts on ethics and morality, the nature of the brain as a survival organ, the evolution of the brain, and the good, the bad, and the ugly of human nature.” This war is not for weenies. I am not a failure, even when I give in to the cravings. I am human. Today is a day where I try really hard to limit myself to foods I know won’t trigger impulse eating but also satisfy my “need” for something sweet. At lunch I thoroughly enjoyed my orange. It’s kind of hard to overeat an orange. And I have my other crutch, Trident Sugar free gum, which I can chew to my heart’s content. I may be inhabiting a smaller body now, but the war is the same today and every day. My encouragement comes from knowing I am forgiven when I overeat. I am not condemned. God loves me just as I am. I don’t have to beat myself up, I just need to be diligent and forward thinking. I also know that if I resist the cravings I can get past them. If I go without sugar for at least 3 days, the cravings subside and go away. I just have to get over that hump. It’s hard to break the cycle but Christmas is over and all the goodies are gone. I am tempted to stop by the store and refuel but that would be counterproductive. Because here’s the deal… I am master of this ship. I have a choice to indulge or deny. And today, I deny. Because I know the cycle. I know I can get over the hump. I choose triumph over tragedy, hope over despair, forgiveness over hate. And while I hate these cravings and what they represent, they also give me courage. Because if I’m fighting, that means I haven’t given up.

“I don’t have time.”
“I can’t give up soda.”
“I just don’t feel like working out.”

I used to think healthy people were stupid. Well, I didn’t really think they were stupid, I just hated them. I mean, what kind of lunatic would work out where there is a perfectly comfortable couch and Felicity to watch? Those super crazy healthy people were all bouncy and peppy and smiley. Like, why would I ever want to be like that? I liked my depressed state. I was all moody and mysterious and dark and twisty (like Meredith from Grey’s Anatomy).

So why did I feel all dead inside? Why was I embarassed to go out in public? Why did I feel like a constant failure? I won’t go into all the details about how poorly I felt about myself. I liked to rationalize my choices. I lived the way I wanted to live, until I didn’t want to live that way anymore.

So this is what I need to start telling people who say, “I don’t have any motivation.” I need to say, “It’s your life. Live the way you want to live. If you like being fat, stay fat. Eat unlimited Doritoes and Orea Cookies. I know they’re yummy. Enjoy!”

But for those of you who do want to get in shape and change your life, just do it! Here’s how I roll.

I am really struggling with the cold weather. I can’t seem to put on enough layers to warm me for walks outside. I want to run but since the orthopedic doctor told me I have damaged cartilage in my left hip, I can’t. It makes me sad and cranky, but I just can’t. So, I pouted for a minute and then moved on. Some days I just can’t wrap my mind around pretending to be a hamster. I mean, my elliptical machine is da bomb but no amount of JOY fm can get me through it. Today I woke up and saw pink clouds from my kitchen window. Pinks clouds mean the sun is shining! I was so excited I started to get like those stupid healthy, peppy people.

I put on layer after layer after layer of clothes and two pairs of socks. I plugged into my tunes and took off out of the front door. And it was COLD! And I had the same thought I have every morning I step outside in the winter. “I’m going back in!”

But I didn’t. I kept walking because I know that about half way through my walk I’m going to warm up and get a burst of energy. When my heart rate speeds up, I get a happy feeling that starts in my toes and radiates out through my fingers. I love that feeling. So you ask, what’s my motivation? I feel GREAT when I work out. I’m not always in a good mood, don’t mistake me, but my endorphins activate my brain and it is wonderful.

I started working out because I wanted to lose a chunk of weight. I hated it for a long time. It was a chore. But somewhere along the way I fell in love with it. Walking, running, cycling, roller skating… I love it! I frequently listen to my audio Bible. With no distractions I can absorb the words. I downloaded it for $7.50. Amazing! And the very best thing about my workouts is it is usually the only time I get to myself.

So here’s the thing, since I had to give up running it’s hard for me to get my heart rate up like I used to. So instead of pouting, I decided to do fist pumps. Fist pumps to the front, fist pumps to the sky and flappy wing fist pumps to the side. Passersby give me the funniest looks and you know what I say, “Hello! How are you today?”

And you know what they say? “Hi.”

And then they get that look, the one that says they think I’m some kind of crazy, healthy, peppy, person. And you know what? I can live with that.