The Freedom of Staying Home...

I've been off my game with the COVID-19 restrictions in place, as many of us have. What day is it? Does it really matter? 

Admittedly, this has been harder than it sounded. Initially, I was all on board for this working from

home thing, but the reality is, it is really hard to work from home when 1) you're fighting against the schedule of an unruly 2-and-a-half-year old and 2) you don't have the office comradery to keep you going. What I also didn't realize sitting in my office every day, was my capability for self-thought. It may not have truly been "alone time," but it mimicked that feeling more than I knew. That is all gone now, and I, like many of you, are suffering from it. 

So what are we to do? Keep safe, keep healthy, and try to keep sane. One of the advantages of this stay at home order is that we can reinvent our schedule, or in my case, see what could really fit into it.

Generally, I get up early and am basically fretting about getting to work the entire morning--all activities are rushed or skipped in light of the impending drive to work (which is odd because since having a baby, I've literally never managed to get there on time). Since work is just a room away now, I've been pleasantly surprised to see just what all I can do during those morning hours without worrying about the timing. Enjoy a quiet cup of coffee? Check. Go for a morning jog? Yup. Walk the dog and listen to my audiobook? Yaasss.

One of the hardest parts about working right now, is the question of what I am working for? When will this all end? Is it worth planning for fall, or will it just be all the things that were canceled in winter and spring? Will people even want to do these things once this is over? For me, there is a lot up in the air, and for that reason alone, it is stressful. All those little elements of timing, may not seem like such a big deal, but they are helping with the overall scheme of "life from home" even though it is definitely not the same platform as life in the office.

So, I'm up early. I'm going to try to do what needs to get done, and then I'm going to do me. I'm going to hang out with the little guy and watch Mila and Morple or make endless play-doh snakes. I might even take a nap. I'm going to make something delicious for dinner because I have the time to do it, and I'm going to enjoy the great outdoors if Michigan's weather will permit. I expect soon enough to be sitting back behind my desk, staring at a wall, instead of out my window at home--so live for the day.

Mentally, this is hard. Physically, a few people's waistlines will probably stretch. Emotionally, this could be one of the greatest and worst times of our lives. Seek the advantage in all of it. Oh, and stop judging people on what is or isn't "essential," and stop buying all the stupid toilet paper.

Coronapocalypse...

So y'all are probably wondered what happened to me as it's been a couple

weeks since I've posted. I'm still here, even more so now that I'm working and mommin' from home 24/7. Honestly,coronapocalypse struck in a big way for me.

At work, we had to cancel ALL of our programming--meetings, classes, day trips, and extended excursions--yikes! I say had, but at the point when we did it, it was a conscious choice by yours truly.  I couldn't fathom one of my people getting sick, or worse, and spreading it to others with the same results. Better safe, than sorry, especially in this instance.

Running? Still happening, but still a little random. Hoping to sort that out this week, as I repeat Week 5. It looks like most of life is canceled for the foreseeable future anyhow, so there should be plenty of time to focus.

Work? Still happening from my home command central--nothing like a global pandemic to get you to finally clear off your desk at home! Hours are pretty random--like before anyone else wakes up, and when the tiny person is napping. We do what we can when we can.

Homelife? A LOT of togetherness. In some ways, it's nice to just chill. The active, busy person in me, is secretly dying inside, but now is a time for rest and recharging so we can hit the ground running when life returns to normal. We are trying to stay home as much as possible--but reserving time for the playground, walkies, and runs. I may have to find a new audiobook though...don't think reading The Shining is such a good plan right now...

Food? American has no fear of starving--and neither do we. I tried to stock up as much as possible and work with what we have on hand. Of course, takeout is still available for those days when cooking just isn't in the cards. Everyone has to take a moment (or months) to slow down. Meals at home, time for play, a nap now and again.

So friends, sit back, relax, and stay well. I'm going to try to--and update on the regular schedule again. 

The Politics of Pants...

It's yet again another presidential election year. No matter your stance, we can mostly all agree that pants, much like the presidential candidates, just don't fit right. No matter what size I've been, I've never had a pair of pants that fit exactly right.  I've also never had a candidate for which I was willing to campaign. Mostly it's my Buttigieg that gets in the way.

What's the deal with pants anyway? Women haven't been wearing them all

that long, and maybe that's part of the problem. Who wears the pants in the family? Men...and definitely Amy Klobuchar.

Prior to the 1960s and 70s, most women just didn't wear pants. Unless you had something in your life to do that involved exercise or work, which required more fluidity of movement, you stuck to your skirts. Prior to WWII, even those women that donned slacks remained behind closed doors--something to be worn only at home or work, not in the public eye. Joe Biden and Donald Trump probably remember those days, right?

So pants are a relatively new thing for women, and admittedly, it's hard to get the different curves just right when sewing them into the fabric. Standard sizing is a joke. I could wear a size 4 in one brand, and an 8 in another--ladies cut off your tags! No one should care about her size because it's essentially meaningless anyway, much like Bloomberg's texts.

So what do we do? Make our own garments? Savagely protest societal norms? Burn barrels of Levis, Gloria Vanderbilt, and Lee? Yeah, we don't have time for that. We have careers to run, children to raise, and rights to fight for. Pants shouldn't be the battle we have to fight when we're busy fighting for our place in the White House, the Senate, the board room, or the head of the table. 

Do we just wear skirts? Hell no! I mean, go ahead and wear one if you want, we shouldn't be restricted. *cough* Elizabeth Warren. I just think we should keep complaining. It's 2020--I was promised flying cars 20 years ago. Where are they? The same place that fit technology resides, apparently. We can spot a dime from space with a spy satellite, but we can't make a sensible pair of chinos fit hips? What has NASA been doing for the last few decades, anyway?


So keep up the fight. Political or pants. Wearing slacks doesn't make women more masculine. Wearing pants doesn't make women feminists or butch or radicals. Wearing jeans doesn't suggest that a woman wants trouble or let herself go. Wearing pants is necessary for all the important work we do, and dammit, they should fit. 

Nevertheless, she persisted.  

The Trouble with Thinking...

Do you ever overthink one thing, but maybe not another? You just can't stop thinking about something. It's stuck, right there, in the middle of your brain...? Yeah, me too.

It's true. I can spend days analyzing someone's offhanded comment. I can spend a week wondering what someone's comment in response to my post on Facebook could mean. If something went poorly, I can worry about the repercussions for months. Most of us are like this about something, if not many things, or even everything. I saw a post this week by a friend in this regard, and it hit home.

 Do you ever overthink about what someone else thinks about you? This cartoon series illustrates just that, a boy who turns into a man worrying about every little thing about himself, based on the comments of others. It's pretty true. I've always envied those that should just sluff off a rude remark or hurtful comment--I've always wondered if people really could just ignore these things. I couldn't...I can't.

The first instance I remember someone else's words impacting the way I thought about myself wasn't even a comment about my body, it was rather my mother's thoughts and comments about her own.

She hated having her picture taken. I would mourn this sad truth after her death when there were few good pictures to be found of her. She didn't like the way she looked after gaining weight with kids, and just life. I remember her perpetually trying to lose weight and complaining about her weight (usually in regard to trying to find clothes that fit). I
distinctly remember pointing out a tee shirt I thought was cute and funny of three funky cows--you know, characterized with glasses, pearls, etc.--no words, just happy cows, and it left her in tears. "That's right, mom's a cow," she said. I was maybe 8 at the time.

I was never a heavy kid. I thought all the time about what I looked like (thanks, society), but I didn't think I looked bad at all, not thin, but pretty normal. For most of my youth, I was a tomboy. In eighth grade, we went on a trip to visit my Aunt Betty (a story for another time), and upon our return, my mother commented that she'd lost weight on the trip (miraculous on any trip, right?) Standing on a scale in her bathroom, I commented that I hadn't changed, or maybe even gained a couple pounds on the trip. Peering over at the dial, she said, "you don't want to weight any more than that." I was in eighth grade, people. I had a lot of growing yet to do. I would, in fact, go on to weigh quite a bit more, and at one point, quite a bit less. Later on at a garage sale, (cue me standing on a giant antique scale), she also said, "I didn't think you weighed that much." I wasn't sure how I should take that one.

So what's the point, you say? Not overthinking is hard. I think most of us can't help it. However, we should try to let things go when we can. My mother never meant any harm in her comments, but they did harm--harm to last a lifetime. I can't not see the imperfections in my body. How could it be prevented, though?

As loyal fans know, my mother was, in fact, also my inspiration for trying to get healthier. She had a heart attack and at 30 years of age and more than 45 pounds overweight, I saw my future right before my eyes. That was time for a change.

For all her flaws, and those she instilled upon my brain, mom was still my number one fan. I miss her tremendously and there are times when I still have to stop myself from picking up the phone to
tell her something exciting that happened, or just bitch about life. So when overthinking your flaws, or how much better someone looks or is at something than you, think of the little people you might be influencing. Not the Roloff's, kids, people; I'm talking about your kids.

I didn't care what my mom looked like. Even though her comments about herself or about me made me think about how I looked, I never once gave a second thought to how she looked. I didn't care, she was my mom. (Sidenote, I tell Patton that Hudson has laser eyes and can see in the dark when he goes out in the backyard at night...)Kids probably don't have laser eyes (think how creepy that would be!), but they do have a pretty unique ability to not see the flaws--in themselves (until someone tells them they're there) or in others (until they realize the power that pointing this out can have in the jungles of kid-dom). Kids are great that way.

Feel like walking around without pants because they don't fit? Go for it, kids encourage it. Want to eat chocolate cake for breakfast, lunch, or dinner? Why not? It's the whole reason kids can't wait to be adults. Not in the mood for laundry, so you re-wear yesterday's outfit? Kids hate to ever change their clothes, what's one day? Wish you were taller and thinner? So do the kids, not for how they look, but so they can reach things (I mean, haven't you ever seen BIG?)

Kids are amazing. Let's try not to screw them up.

F.I.T.

So as you can probably tell, since this is going up late in the day, it's been a busy week.  Here at headquarters we have been interviewing and finalizing a new hire to fill my senior secretary position. Besides interviews, we have been plugging away at the final details of the spring/summer catalog that will be coming out in March. 100 or so classes later, phew!

This week also marked the second week of the C25k program for me. Highlights include not dying and successfully completing each day. Next week the stakes go up as the running intervals increase to 2 minutes at a time. I also got a workout tank that says "FIT: F@!% I'm tired," and it's not untrue. Been more tired than ever this week and I'm not sure if it's the running or fighting off the illness the boys had the last couple weeks. Hoping it's just the physical adjustment. Added sugar for Valentine's Day didn't help the equation either.

That being said, it's also been a week of weird eating with a couple busy nights and an evening of leftovers. March is reading month, so I'm thinking of re-reading my cookbook collection to find some fast and furious, yet delicious, meals. I feel like we're in a meal funk. It's hard to come up with new items that are just enough for 3 and not 10 and not primarily pasta (which I'm not a fan of--looking at YOU Rachel Ray) or liquor (which Semi-Homemade Sandra Lee WAS a fan of). 

Also, enough with the snow and frigid temps already, Michigan. The loaner car I have can
detect my trashcans next to it but has a hard time steering away from the deep country ditches on the icy roads. I'd rather not get jaws-of-lifed on my way home one night. It's all I can do to keep old red centered. Please, summer, hurry up!

Snowpe

Well Michigan, you really made my return lovely--2 boys with illness and yesterday and today, snow. And not the kind of fun thick snow you can build a snowman with--light fluffy, just-enough-to-make-the-roads-slippery snow. Alas, Phil promised me an early spring (the groundhog, not the plague-ridden guy I live with). Where is it?

This week also marked the kickoff of my adventure with the Couch to 5k program. I didn't follow it when I originally started running but followed the same basic principle without the structure--run/walk until you can run the whole time. I was a lot more motivated seven years ago, however, so I figured following a program (insert 12-step joke here) would probably be my best bet this time around. If Britney did it, so can I. The last day of week 1, I will complete today on my lunch break--but with an extra run tomorrow morning with the sister-in-law who is also starting out with the program. 

So what conclusions did I draw from this week? You can eat healthily and

exercise and not lose any weight. Well, there's always next week. Running will eventually make me have lots of energy, but it's making me more tired right now. Mornings were rough this week, but sunlight and more miles will resolve that at some point--the miles may come easier than the sunlight here in Michigan. Support helps, whether self-accountability or other people. Did I want to start that program this week? No, but it was time. I posted to a workout group/page I'm in when I completed a day--sorry guys--and I also checked in with the sister-in-law on her progress and even got pushed into going to yesterday's last-minute run by office partner in crime. She's right, I probably wasn't going out in the snowstorm.

So now what? Just keep moving.

Did I Mention the Pie?

Many of you got a chance to read my adventures this last week in Key West via my travel blog, but what you're really wanting to know is how did intuitive eating go? Meh.

Ultimately, what made it really difficult this last week was the forced meals...ok, "included" meals, if you like. I forgot that I wouldn't necessarily get a choice on when I felt like eating versus when it was dinner time. There was also included pie--key lime pie! When in Rome...right?

Our early morning on day 1, also made it hard to get back on track. After everyone else went to bed, I still had work to do. This just made it hard to catch up on sleep and really be conscious of monitoring my hunger. Also, did I mention the key lime pie?

No worries! This week is another week and chance to get back at it--also, February already! The one advantage of travel is that I log an average of 8 miles a day on my feet. 

This week also mark's the start of training for that 5k. It will be harder to train in the Michigan cold after the Key West warmth, but home is home. Also, there were key lime pie donuts too. #RunTheMitten

A Diet Riot...

This last week I spent some quality time evaluating my life--well habits anyway.

I came to a few conclusions: I can make really healthy and delicious meals (like the sumptuous shrimp stir fry you see to your right), I enjoy exercising (to an extent, I'm not sure I'll ever be on board with swimming for anything other than recreation--wet, meh), I have a pretty serious sugar addiction post kiddo, and I'm too tired to meal prep more than a day ahead of time (and seriously, I generally regret whatever I've packed for my lunch the night before...Tuesday Me doesn't feel like eating Monday Me's idea of a delicious salad).

I also had some thoughts on these conclusions and inadvertently did a little research (I know, most of you don't stumble into research, but hey, it can happen). Foremost, I have to figure out some way to eat better without diet guilt. What, you say, is "diet guilt?" Diet guilt is a term I just made up (because if George W. Bush can do it, so can I--I'm the decider)--n. the distraught feeling a person gets when they have gone off their diet, often resulting in complete nutritional sabotage.

A study I recently read, revealed that diets, in and of themselves, are unhealthy. Any longtime followers of my blog (and life) know that I agree wholeheartedly with this. All things in moderation. Carbs are not evil. etc. etc. This study proclaimed that when you restrict your food intake--whether by calories, carbs, whole foods, or whatever--you are more apt to break free from this restriction with major consequences--i.e. I already ate one cupcake that I shouldn't have...so I'll eat six more and start over again tomorrow. In doing so, you feel incredible guilt--diet guilt--and like a failure. 

This is the story of my life for the past few years. I stayed away from the wacky diet trends--because I know they're only a temporary (if at all) fix, and tried to focus on eating low calorie--but it was hard. I was thinking to myself, "Self...how did I manage to do this before and lose weight without starving?" The answer has two parts: 1) I was dedicated and it took me six months of being careful and exercising religiously to lose the initial weight, and 2) I eventually started running (like, a lot) and was able to eat more without thinking too much about that calorie count. Part 1 did allow me to focus on real food instead of the processed junk I was used to, and that was a good thing overall, but 2 made me feel good mentally and physically--and it wasn't about the calories.

So, I should know how to eat right, right? I do, but it's clouded by sugar cravings and tiredness (and I'm going to go ahead and blame my kid here, because keeping another person alive is more serious work than I realized, and I have never been so exhausted in my life--that's how kids change your life, right there.) What can I do? 

Eat more intuitively.

Huh? My research revealed that the answer to most people's dieting problems is

to get off the diets and eat. Eat when you feel hungry and what you really want to consume--if you don't love it, don't eat it. Stop. Think about what your body wants and needs, then decide what and when to consume it. Reading about intuitive eating was a revelation for me.  It should be obvious to us all, but we get sidetracked by modern life, the abundance of food here in the U.S. (what exactly are impossible burgers? veggie straws?), and our all too busy lifestyles--Americans are, in fact, the hardest working people overall in the world.

For most of my life, I think I've ignored the cues my body gave me about what to eat or drink and when. I snacked. I ate three meals a day. I skipped meals. I ate healthily. I ate not so healthily. Just what did I want to do? What out of the last 30-plus years did I really want to eat? Time to refocus.

So, this next week and beyond, I'm going to give the intuitive thing a shot. Stop, hey, what's that sound? It's my stomach rumbling. When I feel hungry I will eat something--something delicious and nutritious--until I'm not hungry anymore. It should be interesting because I'm headed on a work trip tomorrow to sunny Key West. (Follow my daily travel adventures HERE). Luckily, eating intuitively should work anywhere.

If Deana Carter and Bobby Flay Had a Baby...

Well, it's been a few years since I last touched base--and a lot has happened within that time! Reflecting on that the past couple of weeks, I decided to dig up the blog again and try to get it rolling. Let me know if you like it, and I'll try to keep it up.

When last we met, I had just run my first marathon in the spring of 2014--the Kalamazoo Marathon. Over the past five or so years I ran a second marathon--BayShore--up in Traverse City, and ran my first, (and maybe only) ultra--31 grueling miles in 90+ degree heat. I also did a Tough Mudder (not my favorite), and a Warrior Dash. I also lost a good running buddy, April, who I think about often, even more than a year after her death--and met a lot of really cool new running friends when I schlepped through the Ragnar Road Race just this past September.

I also dove into politics and won (and got re-elected) a seat on my local school board as a Trustee.  For the last several years I've also served as the President. I also moved almost right next to the schools, as we bought a house in town. Yay for sidewalks!

About three years ago, I started a new, full-time job at SVSU, where I serve as the director of their lifelong learning program for people age 50 or better. Which, in and of itself, has been an adventure. I've met so many interesting people along the way, both in our members and instructors and speakers; I even get to travel to far off places on occasion. I also have an awesome staff; we're small but mighty.

Finally, we decided to have a tiny person! "P," now almost two and a half is sometimes annoying, but always amazing.  I still can't believe I made him! He is always on the move, and it's pretty fascinating to watch him go from blob to walking, and from googling to talking. He keeps me on my toes, for sure. I'm also sure that being able to name all the characters on Peppa Pig is a valuable life skill to have, right?

In general, it has been a great five-plus years since I last posted, but how is the healthy part of me doing? Well, I've been healthier--I've definitely eaten better in the past and been fitter--but the reality is, hey I'm tired and I work full time. I try to make dinner most nights, but when P mostly sustains a diet of chicken nuggets, PB&J, and quesadillas, it's hard to find the motivation to get all Bobby Flay. I did keep up running while pregnant with P and ran a 5k every month before I had him. He was a might tiny though and had to stay in a tiny crystal palace for a couple of weeks in the NICU. I also had to take a break for about a month and a half after having surgery. Running has been touch and go ever since, and nothing regular.

I'm a little sad about this! Running was like, my thing. I just can't find the time though. I still exercise every day and walk Hudson every bearable day (it is Michigan winter after all), but there is something about the timing of everything and my place mentally keeping me from taking the plunge back into it.

Pretty soon, however, I won't have a choice.  I have promised my sister-in-law a 5k run before she turns the dreaded 3-0. "I still remember when 30 was old..." She has a list of things that should be done before then, and running a 5k is on it. What're 3 miles between friends?

So, it's time to get it in gear. Time to chug down some caffeine and shove myself out the door. I'll try not to trip on my own feet on the way out.