Week One (& TGIF!)

Bison in the mirror are closer than they appear.

TGIF, people!

In honor of our upcoming move out west, I thought I'd pick an appropriate pic for TGIF!  Although I realize there are no bison roaming the streets of Denver.  I'm just sayin'.

So, the move became official a week ago today. 

Week One has included:

**Two trips to goodwill to drop off stuff.

**Two come-to-Jesus discussions with our realtor about the impossibility of selling our house (and the next steps to take in order to rent it).

**Letting Trainer Ben know that we now have a firm fitness timeline.  Gulp.

**Contacted a potential realtor in CO to see about renting a place in the city (a first for us!)

**Packed up books, books, and more books in order to "stage" the library.

**Made the final Africa payment. 

What joyously good timing it is for us to begin hemorrhaging money.

**G broke the news to his employers and they have begun (please, Lord!) to look into transfer possibilities.

**B's job made its formal announcement about her move and new position.

**LOTS of emotional ups and downs, and facing our fears about uprooting ourselves and beginning a new
    life.

Happy Weekend, everybody!  Hope it's cooler where you are!

Standards

{Peering into the dishwasher...}

B:  Hey, these dishes are...what?

G:  ...?

B:  Clean?

G:  Um, yeah, I'm pretty sure.

B:  {Leaning inside} They look like it.  I think they are.

G:  Me too.  Majority rules.  THEY'RE CLEAN!

A Change Will Do Us Good

After two days of euphoria and the sort of planning and organizing that fulfills our Type A personalities, the panic has set in.

We woke up to it this morning, like a cloud over the bed:  Anxiety, Dismay, and CHANGE.  The unknown is right there, standing on our doorstep.  (Would you like me to continue with the mixed metaphors?  See how stressed I am?!)

"It's easy to want change, but it's hard to actually change.  Very, really hard.

You have to be willing to be uncomfortable, enter the unknown, do things your ego doesn't want to do.  You have to value being true to what you glimpse as possible - to the heart of your heart - more than you want to be right or get your own way or be comfortable.

...Many of us are inspired to change, but few of us are willing to be as uncomfortable as is required to actually change.  In the cascade of daily moments when you want to eat or withdraw, when you don't want to think about where your money is going or make financial choices based on your values, where do you turn for refuge?  Do you return to the safety of familiar patterns?  Do you convince yourself that you have so much to do that taking responsibility for your own choices is too much of a burden?  Or do you undertake the time-consuming and intense work of change?"

{from Lost and Found by Geneen Roth}

Be careful what you wish for

Because you just. might. get it.

We are moving to Colorado.

Soon.

We *should* be relocated and settled before Thanksgiving.

True to form, we have made things as complicated as possible.  Not only are we moving, but we are going to try *hard* to rent our house.  We would prefer to sell, but that is not a reality for us right now.

And there's the Africa trip, firmly scheduled and non-negotiable in the very near future.  And the remaining inoculations - two rounds - that we still need to get.

We have wished and wished to move out West, and an opportunity just dropped -- stealthily, quietly-- into our laps this week.  My job is sending me to Colorado to help direct operations in a new office.

I keep looking around like, where are the adults?  They need to help us out here! How in the world are G and I supposed to like, do all this?

This time last week we were laying around the house with fevers and sore arms. Today?  We bought packing supplies in order to store away some of our stuff and start prepping the house.

There are some surprises, namely:

1.  Um, we're moving to Colorado.

2.  It will be because of B's job and not G's.  Who knew?

3.  How very excited and ready we are to leave this area and prepare for a new adventure.

4.  Philip Yancey has written a lot of books.

5.  And we will be schlepping them, and a rabbit, cross country.

We are working to establish a timeline to rent the house (will probably list right before we go to Africa), for G to officially start the job search, and for B to find a place and relocate to Denver.

Say some prayers and cross your fingers for us, because life is about to get...COMPLICATED.

TGIF, people!

Heat Stroke

It's a trillion degrees here.

It's too hot to do anything but whine about it.

Progress

What is wrong with the following conversation?

G:  So, yeah, I have a mild ear infection.  The doc called in some meds for me.

B:  WAIT!  Do NOT take those antibiotics!  They'll kill all the viruses inside of you!

G:  Oh geez!  That's right!  I'm glad you said something.

B:  Just give the infection another week and then take the meds.

G:  Yeah - the typhoid is still getting settled in there.  I don't want to cancel it out.  I'll wait.

-------------------------------
-------------------------------

In other news, yesterday was the day o'reckoning with Trainer Ben.

My status?

I've lost 1.2 pounds & over 2% body fat.  Woo hoo!

On the one hand, I'm like, it's taken me four weeks to lose one pound?  And on the other hand I remember that this is a marathon, not a sprint, and that this is one pound I will hopefully never regain.  Also, it has been four weeks of transition but only about two weeks of real progress, as it took me a couple of weeks to work out the dang food spreadsheet and the concept of eating every 3-4 hours v. only 3 times a day.  And let's not forget the constant drinking of water.  And then there was the lying to my trainer.

Some lifestyle changes so far (that I'm hoping will stick, in one way or another):

*Eating small meals a few times a day.  At first this felt counterintuitive, especially making sure to eat a small meal at night after my "big" work out.  It felt like I was canceling out my work.  However, with this new eating style, I have more consistent energy throughout the day, and I never reach the ravenous point.

*Strength training three times a week.  I have historically not been a fan of strength training.  I mean, I get why it is important, I just thought it was boring to do.  If I run on the treadmill, I feel like I'm really doing something (and I get the irony in this, since running on a treadmill is used as a metaphor for not actually getting anything done).  But if I stare into the mirror and lift weights, bleh, not so much.  This is where having a trainer has come in handy.  I have learned so many new strength-building exercises, their correct forms, etc.  I would not have been motivated enough to have researched these things on my own.

*Working out (however, whenever, whatever) six days a week.  I have dedicated at least one (ideally two) mornings each week to work out.  This is extremely new and unusual for me, as I do 99.99% of my working out after work and on weekends.  Last week, I thought I would give it a shot:  get up at 5:00 and get one workout in and then go from there.  As hard as it is to roll out of bed, it makes a big, big difference in my overall fitness for the week.  So, this week I will try it twice and then evaluate on a week-by-week basis if this is a manageable routine, moving forward. 

*One very important rest day.  One day a week, I take it easy with the food restrictions (Hello, Haagen Dazs, my icy lover) and with the exercise (Hello, semi-new couch that has conformed to my body).

*Healthy eating.  In trying to maintain a balance of protein/carbs/healthy fat, I can see that the easy route would be to eat grilled chicken breasts for every meal.  But I'm such a foodie that this would never fly.  So I am finding ways to incorporate fresh veggies and fruits and sources of protein into each meal.  Which means I spend about 2 hours (total) every week trying to plan this out in such a way that 1) I don't eat the same thing too often and bore myself, and 2) I keep a seasonal and nutritional variety that will add the most nutrients and minerals.  So far, so good.

My goal?

Now that I have a handle on the food/exercise, I'm in crackdown mode.  I would like to lose 4 pounds and some more body fat % (maybe 3-4%) in the next four weeks. 

I need to be able to run from those lions!  And to swim away from those Great White Sharks!

((Riiiiiiiiiight))

Books, Books (& Recovery)

We used the weekend to recover.  I'm happy to report that there were no major side effects other than general fuzziness and fevers.  As a side note, when we were in the doc's office, I noticed a poster up on the wall.  It was a map of the world and it was titled, "Vacation Diarrheas of the World."  Digestion-friendly countries were blue (i.e. North America, Europe) while iffy countries were red.  Africa was completely red.  Hello, Immodium AD!

We spent most of the weekend relaxing and reading, which brings me to this:

The Uncoupling, by Meg Wolitzer

A new drama teacher joins Eleanor Roosevelt High School in New Jersey and picks Lysistrata as the winter play.  The play is adapted from the original Greek comedy, written by Aristophanes, and centers around a group of women who stop all relations with men in order to end a 20-year war.  Unknown to the characters of the books (teachers and students of the school) a spell runs through the town, eventually infecting its women with the same "condition" as those in the original play.  Confusion, chaos and relational disorder ensue.

This type of book is a bit out of line with my usual reads.  I picked it up in the airport last weekend because I have been reading some heavy stuff lately and thought it might be time for a break, or what I call a smut book.  When I read the description, I thought it could go in one of two possible directions:  50 Shades of Grey (um, no thanks) or fairly comical.  It was fairly comical.

I found it interesting that the main characters of the book are a handful of very different female teachers and their partners.  I found myself remembering my own teachers and laughing at how high school students (myself included) don't consider them real people with real lives and needs.  They seem to exist only within the walls of the classroom.  In fact, when I think of my teachers now, that's exactly where I see them, and it makes sense, but yet it doesn't.  So I appreciated reading a book about teachers going home, cooking dinner, and dealing with the challenges of their own lives. 

Although the main, juicy theme of the book is marital (or non-marital) relations (ahem), I would say that an even more prominent issue is that of desire.  What happens when you fall under a spell that takes away your desire?  How much of your own yearning and passion do you take for granted?  How much of daily life and normal relations and our outlook are shaped by whether or not our desires are fulfilled?  And if our desires are taken hostage, are we still ourselves?

One last point in the books' favor:  generally it does not pick on men.  I wondered if it was going to portray men as ogling fools, incapable of living without you-know-what.  It does not; the men are valid characters and are not treated unfairly (or stereotypically) in my opinion.  The ending of the book is weak; it tends to unravel a bit in the last couple of chapters, but overall I thought it was an interesting read.  Perfect for a plane ride, or innocluation recovery.

Infected

This morning:

B:  How do you feel?

G:  Full of third-world diseases.

Hakuna Matata, My Butt

So, we got all shot to pieces this afternoon.  If I ever see another needle it will be too soon.

We're visiting South Africa and Zimbabwe and these are the shots for those countries:

*Hep A
*Hep B
*Typhoid
*Meningitis
*Yellow Fever
*Tetanus
*Flu
+ Malaria pills

The shots, in addition to filling you with all kinds of deadly germs, will cause fever.  We were told to take a fever reducer (note: do not take aspirin).

Our doc was cool.  He chatted very nonchalantly as he prepped all of our torture devices shots.  Turns out that the yellow fever shot is a live virus, so he has to "activate" it before giving it to us.  To pass the time, we asked why it's called yellow fever.

He says, "Oh, how to explain?  Because it affects the liver and you turn yellow."

We were like, "Well that makes sense."

Then he says, "And you start bleeding from...oh, everywhere basically...and then you die."

...

...

"You are ready?  Let's begin!  Who is first?"

...

...

G gallantly went first (read: his chair was closest to the doc).

Then it was my turn.

Interesting tidbits:
*G pointed out that we have taken vacations that were cheaper than these shots.  INDEED.  As we went to check out, I whispered to him, "Just use the debit card."  Then when the lady said the amount, I reached out to the counter, regained my balance, and croaked, "Never mind.  Use the credit card."

*Drink lots and lots of fluids.

*Expect a fever and sore arms for a couple of days.  The doc said it helps to move around (and even work out) quite a bit - this will increase circulation to the sore areas.

G says he is fine, but my arms are definitely sore.  I think I need the healing power of a Tex Mex dinner on a Friday night to make me feel like myself again.

Did it hurt?  Yes.

Was it worth it?  Yes.

Because we are goin' to Africa!

Books, Books

First of all, let me just say: 

LUV

However will I get through this summer now that Mad Men is over?  And Vampire Diaries?  I guess I'll have to read or workout or something.

Speaking of reading, I just finished:

Lost and Found by Geneen Roth

I was tooling around in the airport last weekend and it caught my eye.  I had never heard of Geneen Roth but apparently she has written several books that have spent weeks on the New York Times Bestseller list and she is also a popular speaker.  In the book, she describes her reaction to losing 30 years of life savings in the Bernie Madoff Ponzie Scheme.

She is a good writer - a nice mix of intelligence, humor, and self-deprication that reminded me of Anne Lamott.  Then I saw that she has actually co-written a book with Lamott, so that makes total sense and I just ordered it.  Apparently Roth has struggled with compulsive eating for years and most of her books deal with that, but when she lost all of her money she realized that the issues she had supposedly resolved with food had been transferred (somewhat) to her relationship with money, and so she had to fight the good fight once more.

This is one of those books that undoubtedly caught my attention because of its timeliness; I, too, am working through the food issue.  I realize that I - like everyone in America - have an actual relationship with food (and money) that needs to be explored if I am ever to learn what I need to learn in order to not weigh 300 pounds and feel lethargic and need a cup of coffee in the afternoon.  So, although this books centers around money, there are many applicable points for food struggles, and I found it thought-provoking.

Not having done my research on Roth, I don't know who she is or what she stands for, but mostly that is irrelevant to me when I read books.  I find that some of the people whose ideals I disagree with strongly still make excellent points that I should consider.  Anyway, I got the vibe that she is certainly not a Christian and could probably qualify as vehemently anti-Christian, so if this bothers you, it may distract you from her other points, which are quite interesting.  However, I found it compelling to ponder some of her points from a Christian perspective.

At any rate, I am going to try a couple of her other books, and I would recommend this one.  Enjoy!



Summer Employment

We have an intern in our office this summer.  He isn't new; he was here last summer as well.  He may also have been an intern in our organization the summer before that--I think he's about to go into his senior year of college--but that was before I came to this organization.

This young man--we'll call him "Jeffrey"--is well-liked in our office.  I haven't really worked with him, since he's been assigned to a different team, but from all I've heard he does a great job, is very intelligent, and is a great team player.  I've even heard the term "boy wonder" thrown around.  He is a student at a prestigious Ivy League school, earning a degree in a field that is relevant to the type of work that we do at this organization.  He has done well enough in his past internships with our organization to be brought back each summer and put on the same team.

What Jeffrey is doing is smart--especially in the current economic environment.  He's "leaning forward in the foxhole," so to speak.  I would be shocked if our organization didn't pick him up immediately upon his graduation from college--he's a known entity and has already done some of the basic training courses that our other junior personnel have to do.  He wears a suit everyday, does the research, and throws himself into every project that he's given.  In short, he's setting himself up for successful employment after college, something that most college students would probably give a vital organ to secure.

This is all well and good, but...

There is a part of me that looks at this kid--and he IS a kid--and thinks to myself, Dude, what are you doing here?  He is obviously cut out for this kind of work--obviously cut out for research, and analysis, and presenting.  He knows the lingo, the dress code, how to handle himself in the office, etc, etc, etc.  His future will be in doing work exactly like he's doing right now, in an office (read: cubicle farm) just like the one he is working in right now, and he's twenty.  TWENTY.

Maybe it's me just thinking back to my summer vacations from college--but I just want to shake him and say, Jeffrey--you have your WHOLE LIFE to sit in a cubicle and work at a computer!  Get out, go do something completely different!  Go empty garbage cans at a national park, or work at one of the Smithsonian museums, or something that is DIFFERENT than what you are going to be doing for the rest of your life!

Am I wrong for thinking that?  Jeffrey is obviously doing what he wants to do, and he's good at it.  But I just wish I could warn him.  Of course, if I did, most--if not all--of my coworkers, Jeffrey included, would look at me like a had a third eyeball growing out of my forehead.  Maybe it's just my own growing displeasure with working in front of two computers in a cubicle farm that makes me want to shout out my warning to Jeffrey.

Of course, I won't.  But I think about it every time I see him.

T minus 2 days

Do I know you?

You look so familiar...

I just called to confirm our Africa shot appointment for Friday afternoon.  We're good to go.  On the bright side, we get to leave work early!  On the dark side, yellow fever, various Hepatitis strains, and who knows what else.

Any volunteers to adopt the bun bun, just in case we don't make it?  (Read the fine print!)

The Day of Reckoning

Last night during training, in the middle of my huffing and puffing, Ben asked if things were still going well with the eating/working out.  The answer is, not so much, especially with the recent trip down south.  Sonic and all that.  But I was all:
Yep---great---ok.

Then he said good, because next Monday I'll weigh in to see how much progress I've made. 

Gulp.

I'm not sure what he said after that because, in my panic, I stopped listening.

According to my goal (why, oh why did I set a goal????), I should have lost 4 pounds by next week.

I said, yep---sounds---good.  And then went to my happy place:

So now I'm wondering how much weight it would be possible to lose in the next 5 days.  Or, alternately, how much muscle I could possibly gain...?  Wish me luck!

Interesting quote I came across last night:

"We use material substances - food and money - as a path to being unruffled.  Openhearted.  Peaceful.  To contacting that which doesn't get destroyed during periods of loss or gain.  Because in the end, we have to let go of it all: the money, the thin thighs, the houses, the clothes.  And all we are left with is our minds and our ability to live in and with ourselves.  Karlfried Graf von Durckheim wrote that 'only to the extent that a person exposes herself over and over again to annihilation, can that which is indestructible be found.'  It seems that nothing real ever dies.  This is a good thing."

{from Lost and Found, by Geneen Roth}

I wimped out

So much for my tattoo-touting bravado.  My plane to the south was delayed (I may or may not have imbibed in the airport) and I arrived just in time for dinner with the fam.  I made no attempt to hide the tat and was actually gearing up for the big reveal when a lady walked by, her legs covered in ink.  Mom and Gama both shook their heads and Gama proceeded to tsk-tsk about how she doesn't understand how anyone - male or female - old or young, would want to do that to themselves.

Bye Bye Birdie.

I skulked around for the entire four days with my left hand clutched to my side like some kind of stroke victim.

Sonic helped somewhat.

It was a good visit overall, but I just don't think I'm cut out for the humidity anymore.  It's as if, when I moved away several years ago, my body was like, Ok, we're done.  And now I'm utterly unable to adjust to the hot, sticky, sticky, smothering, unbearable weather.  As you can see from the pic, I'm constantly covered in a sheen of sweat and gunk.

Meanwhile my bro is all NASA-fied in California.  The trip home just wasn't the same without him, and to make matters worse, I had to stay in his room.  Let this sink in, people:  I had to sleep in my little brother's room.  In his bed.  GRODY.

I sent him numerous texts lamenting this and about the 3rd time he responded with pictures from San Francisco, I realized exactly how unfair life is.  We indeed live in a fallen world.

Let's keep this last picture between us.  I have a training appointment tonight.  Lord, help me.

It's official

Well, it's official.  I consider myself a blogger.  When we started the blog, I wasn't sure how it was going to go.  But I really enjoy it.  Last night I had a dream that G and I were in some foreign land, at this huge marketplace or bazaar.  Morocco maybe?  I have no idea.  Anyway, there was all this life and color and chaos...and I had no camera with me.  As it often goes with dreams, this would never happen in real life.  Me without a camera?  Ha!  But I was so furious that I couldn't enjoy myself and I kept harping at G: "How can I blog about this?!  I won't have any pictures!"

We went to dinner last night and saw this in the parking lot:

It was almost hidden behind the restaurant, by the garbage bin. As I dashed across the parking lot, yanking my phone out of my purse, I yelled back at G: "See?  THIS is why we have a blog.  You can't make this stuff up!  You have to capture it as part of LIFE, you know?"  He stood on the corner, his back to me.  He *might* have been pretending that he didn't know me.

I leave today to visit my fam in the south.  Even the internet cannot go where I'm going.  I'm usually not one to remain involved in my work when I'm supposed to be on vacation, but yesterday I kept telling my coworkers, "If you need me, just call!  Really!  Because I won't be able to check email, so you know, call me!  Or text!"  I know they think I've lost my mind because I never - and I mean never - encourage work calls off hours.  Ever.


Also, I have decided not to cover up the tattoo.  All I can do is hope that no one has a heart attack (I include myself in this) and that Gama doesn't die a thousand deaths and that no one uses the word "hell."  At any rate, this long weekend will be...interesting.

And there's a Sonic.  Several, actually.

And, hey, if you want to, shoot me a text!  Or call me!

Morning Conversation

While stumbling around the kitchen and trying to wake up:

G: Ugh.

B: Uh huh.

G: I wish we could just stay home today.  {Lustily eyeing the plastic models on the table}  How do they expect us to go to work every day?

B: Everyyyyy daaaaayyyyyy.

G: I'm glad we were born when we were.

B: Me too.  Wait.  Why is that?

G: Because when I drive to work I still see little ---------s waiting at the bus stop.  For school.  It's June.

B: Oh, I know.  We always got out in May.

G: {Scowling out the front window} SUCKS TO BE THEM!!!!

Lying to my trainer

I'm starting to get used to the physical training.  I've met with Trainer Ben twice now and have been adjusting to a modified eating plan for a little over two weeks.  I say "modified" because before I started this new system, I was eating three meals a day and starving to death in between.  Now I eat about 5-6 very small meals a day, about 2-3 hours apart, and can feel the life seeping back into me.

I consider this a learning process, this new eating style.  It's not something I'm going to learn and change all in one day, but rather over the course of the next several weeks and months.  The good news is that I'm a foodie and can eat anything.  The bad news is that I'm a foodie and can eat anything.

Ben developed a spreadsheet for me that calculates my daily amounts of protein, carbs, fat and calories.  I plug in my food and out come these magical calculations.  I have a target number (which I find ridiculously low but apparently it's designed that way so I'll lose weight or something) for each of these categories that I have yet to meet.  I'm either on target with my protein, but over my fat by like 15 grams.  Or I'm under on carbs but over on total calories.  And when I say over, I ain't talking about a calorie or two.  I'm talking about the 400-500 range.  This is my little secret.  For someone who almost didn't graduate college due to math deficiencies, this whole system can be rather challenging.

I enjoy the training sessions, although they are tough.  All the exercises utilize my full body weight and consist of  me doing such dignified things as balancing on a huge ball while lifting weights above my head, or stretching out like superman in the middle of the floor and proceding to exhale with the fervor of a breeching whale. 

I used to walk on the treadmill and watch these poor souls doing similar exercises at the command of their trainers and I would wonder if they were embarassed, contorting themselves, red-faced, in front of God and everybody in the gym.

Now that I am such a person, I can say that, no, they are not embarassed.  They are in survival mode and can't think past the next breath, much less notice the sorority girls giggling on the stairmasters.

This brings me to the lies I've been telling my trainer.  Remember taking foreign language lessons in school?  And how you went from sounding like a fairly articulate person, to sounding like a mix between a toddler and a caveman?

"Me hungry.  I go to store for to buy purchase of food for me today."

That's what I sound like while working out.  It's not a word choice thing, it's a breathing thing.  I'm well aware that I need to save whatever meager supply of energy I have (read: afternoon coffee!) for the next 15 reps, and I have no energy left over for words.  None!

The conversation goes like this:

Ben:  Have you been sticking to your food plan?

Me:  Yes---good---. ((thinking to self:  you just lied.))

Ben:  How do your daily numbers look?

Me:  Good---fine.  ((you just lied again.))

Ben:  Really?  Wow!  That's great.

Me:  Hmph---whoo---yep.  ((you are a big fat liar.  God can hear you, you know.))

Ben:  Any questions for me?  Anything you'd like to discuss?

Me:  No---me---good---thanks.  ((LIAR!  LIAR!  PANTS ON FIRE!))

Here's my theological question:  is it technically a lie if it's not premeditated?  If one simply says the first words one can think of, in order to prevent further discussion?  Yeah, probably.

Needless to say, I didn't mention this either:

Although in my defense, it was on sale!  This is an example of frugality, not gluttony!

Ok, back to it.

It's definitely a Monday

Source

Yeah, it's definitely a Monday.

I darted out of bed this morning and put on what I thought was a stylish red-and-black outfit.  Something to add color and a general fake-it-till-you-make-it aspect to my appearance that would disguise my total and complete malaise about the start of the week.

About 45 minutes into my commute, I looked down and realized that I had put on navy blue pants.  To make matters oh so much worse, this isn't the first time I've done this.

As I was creeping along on my way to work (<5mph), the woman in the car in front of my was combing her hair and releasing all the stray hairs outside the window.  They would fly right into my windshield.  She did this for, oh, about 15 miles.  I was washing the window constantly and gagging.

I wonder what else is in store for me today.

Hope your Monday is going better.

TGIS(aturday)