I have deliberately muzzled myself for the past few weeks on an issue that should be safe to talk about shortly. As you can imagine, this is very difficult for me. I was not born with the ability to keep quiet or keep small secrets for very long. But because I Googled my real name a few times and am 100% sure you can find this blog by using my real name- I have to be a good girl and keep my lips sealed shut a little while longer. It's not a good thing, it's not a bad thing...it's just...well, something.
As for the rest of my affairs that are safe to talk about-
I am doing pretty well on the running and diet! I am still down a few pounds, and I think, am getting back into running form. Today I ran about four miles and felt great doing it. My breath is a lot more in control and I'm able to take a few hills now without having to stop and feign a water break in order to stop my heart from slamming out of my chest and collapsing on the side of the road.
So while I'm extremely happy to have made it four miles, I still have NINE more to go until I can my favorite distance again. I have to stiffle back a giggle about my own cute, slow little runs whenever I read other distance runner's posts (Laurel...this is you!) that go something like this-
"Today it was about 10 degrees out, so I was only able to run 19 miles since the snow was two feet deep...and also because I had a broken ankle from running 38 miles uphill the day before." ;-)
It's actually very, very motivating for me to read that stuff, because it reminds me what human beings are capable of and that I too can do it (so long as I'm armed with 800 caffeine-loaded shot bloks).
It's two weeks to race day...yippie! Roy and I are pretty excited that we'll get to do it together (it's been months since we did anything alone together...which is our choice though!). We don't care about our times (we're both still out of shape and I've been injured), we just want to be able to do our best and finish ahead of most seniors and children under the age of three. Too ambitious? Perhaps. But we're optimists (and if need be, we know how to trip people).
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
What is green, orange and brown all over?
What that would be our little Ryan! Eating mashed avocado, steamed sweet potatoes and bread for dinner! As a result, I have made the following decision: This is the last time Ryan will be permitted to feed himself until he is 18 (I'll just bottle feed him until then).
Monday, February 23, 2009
Ry...cuter than ever!
I was reminded that I haven't posted pics of Ryan lately, so without further ado...
Like mother, like son! Ry wearing my Lasik protective eye gear.
Ryan in his diaper box.
Ryan playing with his wooden blocks from Aunty Dawn.
I took this picture about 10 minutes after Ryan woke up. He'd been crawling around the floor playing when I suddenly noticed that he had somehow managed to get his arm out of one sleeve (which apparently, didn't seem to bother him one bit)!
Ry's first magic trick (balancing a toy on his shoulder)!
We just went to Ry's 9-month wellness checkup and discovered that Ryan is a wee bit underweight. No joke! Though these pictures clearly do NOT depict a skinny, deprived child (he is of my flesh after all), his weight (18 lbs.) puts him in the bottom 14% of babies his age. He's still pretty tall though...29.5 inches/86% (thank you Grandpa Paul!). So because his weight gain has tapered off, I've been asked to increase his solid food intake a bit (God can be so cruel sometimes...) and return for a weight check in 6 weeks.
Otherwise, he's happy as a clam- he's back to sleeping through the night in his crib again (we never pushed it...he just did it) and loves to bounce around in his exersaucer and watch Baby Einstein. He has a total of 6 teeth (4 on top, 2 on the bottom), and his favorite place to crawl is the bathroom (because its off limits). We think his favorite food is pureed bananas or plain yogurt, and he looooves watching people and dogs (he's developed a bit of a staring problem).
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Progress!
I think I'm back on track, peeps! Finally! After a very rocky start- here are my running stats for the past three weeks:
Week #1 - 2 miles
Week #2 - 4 miles
Week #3 - 7.25 miles
I have about three weeks to work my way up to the 10k I'm hoping to run on March 14th. So far, my longest run (today) has been 3 miles. So I figure if I run a 4-miler next week, and a 5-miler after that- I'll still be able to taper the week of the race. I'm not saying I'm gonna have a respectable time or anything like that (that's crazy talk!), but I should be able to finish.
And if I'm able to stay on track, I'm hoping to run the Big Island Half Marathon on June 28th. I'm pretty excited about that idea...because in my heart, that's always been 'my distance.' A 10k always felt a little too short, and marathon training is so time consuming...so 13.1 is just long enough that you feel like you did something intense without tearing up your all your joints.
To keep myself motivated (and yes, of course food is involved), I went on to Amazon last night and bought two more 12-packs of Clif Shot Bloks. Dark cherry with caffeine (without it, what's the point?). Once you go from gels to bloks, I swear- you can never go back. I'm hooked. I love 'em. They give me the boost and confidence to keep chugging along out there.
If I get to run the race in June (big if), I hope Roy will bring Ryan along to the finish line where I hope to snatch him from Roy a few yards before the race so I can shamelessly and hurriedly carry him across the finish line with me (avoiding all the dirty looks from race organizers for doing so).
And on a final note, I think I've finally lost a few pounds! I'm trying to eat less, and when I don't run, I usually walk 2 miles a day wearing my MBTs with Ryan on my back (he's an excellent companion- he sits right behind me and aside from the occasional drumming of his hands on my back and neck...is otherwise pretty chill). This is not to say I'm anywhere near fitting any of my old clothes yet, or that my thighs don't still look very plump and delicious- but I'm getting there.
Week #1 - 2 miles
Week #2 - 4 miles
Week #3 - 7.25 miles
I have about three weeks to work my way up to the 10k I'm hoping to run on March 14th. So far, my longest run (today) has been 3 miles. So I figure if I run a 4-miler next week, and a 5-miler after that- I'll still be able to taper the week of the race. I'm not saying I'm gonna have a respectable time or anything like that (that's crazy talk!), but I should be able to finish.
And if I'm able to stay on track, I'm hoping to run the Big Island Half Marathon on June 28th. I'm pretty excited about that idea...because in my heart, that's always been 'my distance.' A 10k always felt a little too short, and marathon training is so time consuming...so 13.1 is just long enough that you feel like you did something intense without tearing up your all your joints.
To keep myself motivated (and yes, of course food is involved), I went on to Amazon last night and bought two more 12-packs of Clif Shot Bloks. Dark cherry with caffeine (without it, what's the point?). Once you go from gels to bloks, I swear- you can never go back. I'm hooked. I love 'em. They give me the boost and confidence to keep chugging along out there.
If I get to run the race in June (big if), I hope Roy will bring Ryan along to the finish line where I hope to snatch him from Roy a few yards before the race so I can shamelessly and hurriedly carry him across the finish line with me (avoiding all the dirty looks from race organizers for doing so).
And on a final note, I think I've finally lost a few pounds! I'm trying to eat less, and when I don't run, I usually walk 2 miles a day wearing my MBTs with Ryan on my back (he's an excellent companion- he sits right behind me and aside from the occasional drumming of his hands on my back and neck...is otherwise pretty chill). This is not to say I'm anywhere near fitting any of my old clothes yet, or that my thighs don't still look very plump and delicious- but I'm getting there.
Friday, February 20, 2009
18 Signs That He Still Loves You
Though I normally avoid Cosmo-esque articles (I think we all know that I'm not exactly a Cosmo girl), I saw this on MSN this morning and couldn't resist. I just had to see whether or not Roy measures up, so I've added my own commentary and point-assessment system.
1. When you wear a T-shirt, boxers, and socks to bed, somehow he still thinks you're cute.
Roy wears boxer briefs- which have very distinct wee wee holes in them that even I have to turn my nose up at. And also- chubby=sweaty=no need for socks in bed. So while I've never worn this exact getup in bed, I very recently wore a large gray workout tank top of his for a few months until I found a Hello Kitty nightgown that I liked. However, he most definitely commented multiple times on how 'sexy' I looked wearing this (this from a man who wears stretchy boxers with wee wee holes in them to bed). It's a draw on this one.
2. He doesn't laugh when you pronounce former hockey star Mark Messier's name as "Mark Messy-er."
He would never laugh, but I would definitely be corrected. Not 'cause he's anal or wants me to feel bad, but he wouldn't want me to embarrass myself. Roy- 1 point.
3. The only framed photo on his bureau is of you at age ten — with short bangs, cat glasses, and metal braces. (If he kept it in his wallet, you would have to kill him.)
Roy would do worse than this. He will post fat pictures of me (and admittedly, there are a lot of these) on his Facebook page because he'll claim he 'didn't notice' I looked fat. And he would not be lying- just insensitive and BLIND. Still, because he never said one peep while I ballooned up over a ten year period, he definitely gets a point for this one. Roy - 1 point.
4. He automatically smooshes all spiders for you.
I'm not creeped out by bugs so much as I'm creeped out by dead, smooshed animals on our many walks (mostly birds, but the occasional flat cat or massacred mongoose...which are the messiest dead animal ever!). But he ALWAYS tells me to avert my eyes or tries to block my view when he spots them. Roy - 1 point.
5. He tried — unsuccessfully, but he tried — to clean the rust ring his shaving-cream can left on the sink.
I'm going to completely overlook the fact that for 1-2 years he'll profess to not having noticed the ring, but yes, he would definitely try to remove it once he did notice it. Roy - 1 point.
6. After you rear-ended that Lexus in the parking lot, his very first words were "Are you OK?"
I have not rear-ended another vehicle yet (a few stonewalls maybe...damn Hawaii and their four thousand stonewalls!), but whenever I have incurred a minor dent/scratch, he's always been very nice about it. But then again, that may be because he's incurred about 2-3 times the amount of damage to cars that I have over the years. In any case, he wouldn't give me grief even if that were flip flopped, so he stil gets a point. Roy - 1 point.
7. At this point, his wedding band is so tight, it makes his finger look swollen — but he swears he'd feel naked without it.
My baby daddy has not gained much weight over nearly 12 years of marriage. However, he has not removed his simple, inexpensive wedding band (which I've since offered to upgrade now that we're not eating ramen every week) a single day that I'm aware...and I'm pretty sure he wouldn't even if he tubbed up like I did. I, on the other hand, wear my wedding ring/band about 2-3 days a year. So I'm glad we're not assessing me right now. Roy - 1 point.
8. He doesn't try to guess what you want for your birthday — he asks your best friend.
Roy is not a man of grand overture or largess. He tends to give simple, practical gifts that I've been wanting. As an example- this Valentines, he got me 2 cards (one from him, one from Ryan), a mylar balloon (that Ry could play with) my favorite diet-friendly microwave popcorn and a new headset for my MP3 player. Simple. Right on budget. Exactly what I would have wanted. Roy- 1 point.
9. He's incapable of putting dishes into the dishwasher but has learned to stack them in the sink.
Roy has this problem of always leaving kitchen cabinet doors open and forgetting all the icky food in the sink after he's done the dishes- but he always does his fair share of washing them. Putting them away...not so much. But I have no real complaints. Roy - 1 point.
10. He understands which old boyfriends are fair game and which aren't.
Roy has recently reconnected with a few exes on Facebook that I occasionally tease him about, and he had no problem with me reconnecting with one of mine (who after a few days, un-friended me...this has resulted in endless curious speculation on both our parts but we mostly think its funny). So for not being the jealous-type and being very open about wanting to reconnect with his exes- he gets a point. Roy - 1 point.
11. He doesn't "whoop!" while watching the Super Bowl anymore. OK, he does, but he's definitely cut back the whooping by about 20 percent.
Oh dear lord. Not only does he NOT get a point on this one, he gets one taken away. Roy is MEAN when he watches football. Nasty. He curses, yells and then gets sullen and silent if his team (the Chargers) lose. It's pretty ugly. Roy - -1 point
12. He'll pick up a box of tampons at the drugstore without wincing.
One of the benefits of being married to a nurse (aside from his offers to give me an enema while I was constipated and pregnant) is that nothing fazes him in this regard. He would not only get the tampons, but he would diligently study the boxes for the one with the least leakage and the most comfort. Roy - 2 points.
13. Though you've had several kids together, he's never once announced, "We're pregnant!"
We've only had the one baby. And he swore he would never utter that phrase. Because he knows it wasn't his pelvic cage that stretched, his boobs that expanded and leaked, his thighs that rubbed together (okay so maybe this was unrelated), his eyes that got dry, his stomach that got stretch marks, his breakfast that came to the top of his throat, etc. etc. Roy- 1 point.
14. He wears that "Kiss Me, I'm Irish" sweatshirt you bought him during a weak moment — sometimes even in public.
Perhaps I'm clueless, but I don't think I've bought him any really silly clothes. I've bought MYSELF silly clothes (in the heat of the moment I came home with not one, but TWO sari like skirts from Thailand with elephant prints on them). And he never gave me grief. But that may be because I've unearthed quite a few photos of him wearing some scary pastel orange outfits in high school with elastic waist shorts. Roy- 1 point.
15. He's careful never to deal with nose hairs in your presence.
Oh he's very discreet...but whether that's because he doesn't want to hear me screech about having watch him manscape or because he's modest, I'll never know. Regardless, I appreciate it. Roy- 1 point.
16. When you drag him to sentimental movies, he doesn't sit there and snicker. (He may fall asleep, but he won't snicker.)
Roy knows there is only one reason I'll go to a movie- a giant bucket of buttered popcorn. I've never dragged him to a chic flick. Unless you count Devil Wears Prada. So it's a draw on this one.
17. He doesn't comment on your new haircut unless you ask him to. And then he lies.
Oh he never comments...because he has never noticed. Since I get a haircut every 2-3 months (hey, money's tight), by my own estimate- he has not noticed the last...oh 50 of them. And yes, yes, it's harder to notice a ricebowl trim, but still...to not even notice ONE in 12 years?! Roy- NO point.
18. He may forget to give you a card for Valentine's Day, but at least he understands this is a criminal offense. And he's prepared to pay the price.
Roy never forgets. Ever. Roy- 5 points.
Not bad, Roy! Even with losing that point, he still got 18 points! Guess we'll at least make it through '09! ;-)
1. When you wear a T-shirt, boxers, and socks to bed, somehow he still thinks you're cute.
Roy wears boxer briefs- which have very distinct wee wee holes in them that even I have to turn my nose up at. And also- chubby=sweaty=no need for socks in bed. So while I've never worn this exact getup in bed, I very recently wore a large gray workout tank top of his for a few months until I found a Hello Kitty nightgown that I liked. However, he most definitely commented multiple times on how 'sexy' I looked wearing this (this from a man who wears stretchy boxers with wee wee holes in them to bed). It's a draw on this one.
2. He doesn't laugh when you pronounce former hockey star Mark Messier's name as "Mark Messy-er."
He would never laugh, but I would definitely be corrected. Not 'cause he's anal or wants me to feel bad, but he wouldn't want me to embarrass myself. Roy- 1 point.
3. The only framed photo on his bureau is of you at age ten — with short bangs, cat glasses, and metal braces. (If he kept it in his wallet, you would have to kill him.)
Roy would do worse than this. He will post fat pictures of me (and admittedly, there are a lot of these) on his Facebook page because he'll claim he 'didn't notice' I looked fat. And he would not be lying- just insensitive and BLIND. Still, because he never said one peep while I ballooned up over a ten year period, he definitely gets a point for this one. Roy - 1 point.
4. He automatically smooshes all spiders for you.
I'm not creeped out by bugs so much as I'm creeped out by dead, smooshed animals on our many walks (mostly birds, but the occasional flat cat or massacred mongoose...which are the messiest dead animal ever!). But he ALWAYS tells me to avert my eyes or tries to block my view when he spots them. Roy - 1 point.
5. He tried — unsuccessfully, but he tried — to clean the rust ring his shaving-cream can left on the sink.
I'm going to completely overlook the fact that for 1-2 years he'll profess to not having noticed the ring, but yes, he would definitely try to remove it once he did notice it. Roy - 1 point.
6. After you rear-ended that Lexus in the parking lot, his very first words were "Are you OK?"
I have not rear-ended another vehicle yet (a few stonewalls maybe...damn Hawaii and their four thousand stonewalls!), but whenever I have incurred a minor dent/scratch, he's always been very nice about it. But then again, that may be because he's incurred about 2-3 times the amount of damage to cars that I have over the years. In any case, he wouldn't give me grief even if that were flip flopped, so he stil gets a point. Roy - 1 point.
7. At this point, his wedding band is so tight, it makes his finger look swollen — but he swears he'd feel naked without it.
My baby daddy has not gained much weight over nearly 12 years of marriage. However, he has not removed his simple, inexpensive wedding band (which I've since offered to upgrade now that we're not eating ramen every week) a single day that I'm aware...and I'm pretty sure he wouldn't even if he tubbed up like I did. I, on the other hand, wear my wedding ring/band about 2-3 days a year. So I'm glad we're not assessing me right now. Roy - 1 point.
8. He doesn't try to guess what you want for your birthday — he asks your best friend.
Roy is not a man of grand overture or largess. He tends to give simple, practical gifts that I've been wanting. As an example- this Valentines, he got me 2 cards (one from him, one from Ryan), a mylar balloon (that Ry could play with) my favorite diet-friendly microwave popcorn and a new headset for my MP3 player. Simple. Right on budget. Exactly what I would have wanted. Roy- 1 point.
9. He's incapable of putting dishes into the dishwasher but has learned to stack them in the sink.
Roy has this problem of always leaving kitchen cabinet doors open and forgetting all the icky food in the sink after he's done the dishes- but he always does his fair share of washing them. Putting them away...not so much. But I have no real complaints. Roy - 1 point.
10. He understands which old boyfriends are fair game and which aren't.
Roy has recently reconnected with a few exes on Facebook that I occasionally tease him about, and he had no problem with me reconnecting with one of mine (who after a few days, un-friended me...this has resulted in endless curious speculation on both our parts but we mostly think its funny). So for not being the jealous-type and being very open about wanting to reconnect with his exes- he gets a point. Roy - 1 point.
11. He doesn't "whoop!" while watching the Super Bowl anymore. OK, he does, but he's definitely cut back the whooping by about 20 percent.
Oh dear lord. Not only does he NOT get a point on this one, he gets one taken away. Roy is MEAN when he watches football. Nasty. He curses, yells and then gets sullen and silent if his team (the Chargers) lose. It's pretty ugly. Roy - -1 point
12. He'll pick up a box of tampons at the drugstore without wincing.
One of the benefits of being married to a nurse (aside from his offers to give me an enema while I was constipated and pregnant) is that nothing fazes him in this regard. He would not only get the tampons, but he would diligently study the boxes for the one with the least leakage and the most comfort. Roy - 2 points.
13. Though you've had several kids together, he's never once announced, "We're pregnant!"
We've only had the one baby. And he swore he would never utter that phrase. Because he knows it wasn't his pelvic cage that stretched, his boobs that expanded and leaked, his thighs that rubbed together (okay so maybe this was unrelated), his eyes that got dry, his stomach that got stretch marks, his breakfast that came to the top of his throat, etc. etc. Roy- 1 point.
14. He wears that "Kiss Me, I'm Irish" sweatshirt you bought him during a weak moment — sometimes even in public.
Perhaps I'm clueless, but I don't think I've bought him any really silly clothes. I've bought MYSELF silly clothes (in the heat of the moment I came home with not one, but TWO sari like skirts from Thailand with elephant prints on them). And he never gave me grief. But that may be because I've unearthed quite a few photos of him wearing some scary pastel orange outfits in high school with elastic waist shorts. Roy- 1 point.
15. He's careful never to deal with nose hairs in your presence.
Oh he's very discreet...but whether that's because he doesn't want to hear me screech about having watch him manscape or because he's modest, I'll never know. Regardless, I appreciate it. Roy- 1 point.
16. When you drag him to sentimental movies, he doesn't sit there and snicker. (He may fall asleep, but he won't snicker.)
Roy knows there is only one reason I'll go to a movie- a giant bucket of buttered popcorn. I've never dragged him to a chic flick. Unless you count Devil Wears Prada. So it's a draw on this one.
17. He doesn't comment on your new haircut unless you ask him to. And then he lies.
Oh he never comments...because he has never noticed. Since I get a haircut every 2-3 months (hey, money's tight), by my own estimate- he has not noticed the last...oh 50 of them. And yes, yes, it's harder to notice a ricebowl trim, but still...to not even notice ONE in 12 years?! Roy- NO point.
18. He may forget to give you a card for Valentine's Day, but at least he understands this is a criminal offense. And he's prepared to pay the price.
Roy never forgets. Ever. Roy- 5 points.
Not bad, Roy! Even with losing that point, he still got 18 points! Guess we'll at least make it through '09! ;-)
Sunday, February 15, 2009
I'm basically a pop star (but without the body, money or fame)
I'm gonna stick with the Britney comparison I used in my last lengthy entry and say that once again, like Brit- I think I might finally be back on track. And I didn't even need my daddy to take over! Over the past few months, everytime I swore I was gonna 'get serious' about eating better and working out- I was always back to my old ways within 1-2 days (impressive, I know).
But so far...so good. I just finished Day #3 of my Reinvention Tour (now its time to channel some Madonna), and I'm feeling like the old me again. For three days straight, I have not pigged out. And thanks to Roy taking one for the team today, I just went on my second run in two days! Once again, it was only two miles, but I ran them a lot stronger (I did cheat and take two shot bloks, but hey, lets not focus on that) than the other day. And best of all, I ran today's two miles thinking positive thoughts-
Hey, this isn't nearly as bad as last time- I think maybe last time I was just still a little too sick. And even though its only been three days, I actually feel lighter, so going up this hill is easier. You know, if I can just run these two miles...I bet three isn't too far away. And you know what running three miles means! (If you don't- it's the starting off point for most marathon training programs.) I could be running a half marathon before the end of the year, and maybe even running the Honolulu Marathon in the next 2-3 years! Just think, as long as I can run 3-4 miles in the next 4 weeks, you should be able to run the 6.25 miles of the 10k! You're back, J! You're back!!!
And even though I weighed in a half pound MORE than I did on Day #1, this only pissed me off for a second. Instead of depressing and demotivating me, it fueled me to stay the course. So I'm feeling a little more confident that I can do this. And writing about it definitely places an added degree of pressure (in a good way)- I'm starting to feel an incredible sense of deja vu! Haven't I done this before? ;-)
But so far...so good. I just finished Day #3 of my Reinvention Tour (now its time to channel some Madonna), and I'm feeling like the old me again. For three days straight, I have not pigged out. And thanks to Roy taking one for the team today, I just went on my second run in two days! Once again, it was only two miles, but I ran them a lot stronger (I did cheat and take two shot bloks, but hey, lets not focus on that) than the other day. And best of all, I ran today's two miles thinking positive thoughts-
Hey, this isn't nearly as bad as last time- I think maybe last time I was just still a little too sick. And even though its only been three days, I actually feel lighter, so going up this hill is easier. You know, if I can just run these two miles...I bet three isn't too far away. And you know what running three miles means! (If you don't- it's the starting off point for most marathon training programs.) I could be running a half marathon before the end of the year, and maybe even running the Honolulu Marathon in the next 2-3 years! Just think, as long as I can run 3-4 miles in the next 4 weeks, you should be able to run the 6.25 miles of the 10k! You're back, J! You're back!!!
And even though I weighed in a half pound MORE than I did on Day #1, this only pissed me off for a second. Instead of depressing and demotivating me, it fueled me to stay the course. So I'm feeling a little more confident that I can do this. And writing about it definitely places an added degree of pressure (in a good way)- I'm starting to feel an incredible sense of deja vu! Haven't I done this before? ;-)
Friday, February 13, 2009
Brit & I
Roy and I have set the 2009 Kona Brewers Fest 10k as our fitness goal. At the point that we decided to do the run, I had roughly 6 weeks to train/start running again. So over the past two weeks, I have run a grand total of...(drumroll please)...FOUR miles!!! So if I continue with my current training regimine and my calculations are correct, I should be able to finish the 6-mile run in about 14 hours, 12 minutes and 37 seconds. Which...totally sucks (mostly because there won't be any bananas or Clif bars left for me at the finish line).
The first run I attempted ended after about 100 yards after I twisted one of my freakishly narrow ankles. The second run I went on last week was a pleasant 2 miles. However, my third run, which was today, was a disaster. I ran the first mile okay, but only because its entirely downhill (so gravity gets all the credit). But the second mile (a gradual uphill) I ended up walking half the time. At the time, I couln't help but think that I now know exactly how Brit felt at the VMAs last year.
As I trudged up the hill gasping for breath, I could feel my gut hanging over my Fuel Belt (I'm back into my medium-sized one since the small is too snug). Thanks to some remaining baby weight and overeating since I've been home- I'm now 12 lbs. heavier than my all-time low a few years ago. As a result, I cannot fit any of my work pants and can barely fit half of my exercise clothes. I know that my poor performance today was mostly due to the extra weight I'm now carrying around. And my overeating (the same old story).
So thanks to my horrific pace, I had plenty of time to think plenty of negative thoughts- you're just not the same person anymore. You have a baby now. You have no time to run. Plus you get sick every month, so you can't run when you're sick. You're so heavy you need to lose some weight before you start running again. You're never gonna be able to run even two miles, much less a half marathon. Your best days are over...just accept that you're now a bored, overweight housewife and deal with it. You're gonna embarrass yourself at the 10k- people you know will see you walking!!! Best not to even enter after all... Maybe you should just wait five years until Ryan is in school to start running again. Blah blah blah.
But here's the thing- in a wierd way, I'm kinda glad I had such a shameful, shameful run and my friggen' clothes don't fit. Because I truly hope that I've hit rock bottom. I keep thinking that I've hit it every time I gain another pound, but inevitably I find that no, I haven't. But instead of sad and feeling helpless- I'm gonna be pissed off. I'm hoping my anger and embarrassment are enough to fuel a wake up call to get my a** in gear again-
I need to continue running (damnit, I deserve the time).
I need to watch what I eat (time to crack the whip again).
I need to start meditating again (it all starts and ends with this).
I need to start writing (it keeps me motivated).
But most of all- I need to believe in me (I want the old confidence back!!!).
You know, its funny how women work. My excuses for only running twice in the past few weeks have been- Roy needs a break, I need to bake peanut butter mac nut brownies for Roy to take to work, I need to do the shopping, I have to go visit Grandma, I have to write a letter to the property tax office, I need to help my nephew with his homework, Roy looks tired, I want to bake banana bread so these bananas don't go bad, I should bake butter mochi for my parent's party, Roy needs to practice his ukulele, my mom seems way too busy to watch Ryan for me so I won't even ask, I need to make fresh food for Ryan to eat, I need to water the plants, I need to balance the checkbook, I need to do the laundry, etc. But no where, not once in all of this did I decide that maybe I should make myself a priority. Everyone else always comes first. And then I wonder why I feel so lost and unfulfilled.
So from here on, I will make a far greater effort to do things for myself. I have to. It's that or I'll starting pack on the pounds and swinging umbrellas at the paparazzi (and both Britney and I know what that's like).
The first run I attempted ended after about 100 yards after I twisted one of my freakishly narrow ankles. The second run I went on last week was a pleasant 2 miles. However, my third run, which was today, was a disaster. I ran the first mile okay, but only because its entirely downhill (so gravity gets all the credit). But the second mile (a gradual uphill) I ended up walking half the time. At the time, I couln't help but think that I now know exactly how Brit felt at the VMAs last year.
As I trudged up the hill gasping for breath, I could feel my gut hanging over my Fuel Belt (I'm back into my medium-sized one since the small is too snug). Thanks to some remaining baby weight and overeating since I've been home- I'm now 12 lbs. heavier than my all-time low a few years ago. As a result, I cannot fit any of my work pants and can barely fit half of my exercise clothes. I know that my poor performance today was mostly due to the extra weight I'm now carrying around. And my overeating (the same old story).
So thanks to my horrific pace, I had plenty of time to think plenty of negative thoughts- you're just not the same person anymore. You have a baby now. You have no time to run. Plus you get sick every month, so you can't run when you're sick. You're so heavy you need to lose some weight before you start running again. You're never gonna be able to run even two miles, much less a half marathon. Your best days are over...just accept that you're now a bored, overweight housewife and deal with it. You're gonna embarrass yourself at the 10k- people you know will see you walking!!! Best not to even enter after all... Maybe you should just wait five years until Ryan is in school to start running again. Blah blah blah.
But here's the thing- in a wierd way, I'm kinda glad I had such a shameful, shameful run and my friggen' clothes don't fit. Because I truly hope that I've hit rock bottom. I keep thinking that I've hit it every time I gain another pound, but inevitably I find that no, I haven't. But instead of sad and feeling helpless- I'm gonna be pissed off. I'm hoping my anger and embarrassment are enough to fuel a wake up call to get my a** in gear again-
I need to continue running (damnit, I deserve the time).
I need to watch what I eat (time to crack the whip again).
I need to start meditating again (it all starts and ends with this).
I need to start writing (it keeps me motivated).
But most of all- I need to believe in me (I want the old confidence back!!!).
You know, its funny how women work. My excuses for only running twice in the past few weeks have been- Roy needs a break, I need to bake peanut butter mac nut brownies for Roy to take to work, I need to do the shopping, I have to go visit Grandma, I have to write a letter to the property tax office, I need to help my nephew with his homework, Roy looks tired, I want to bake banana bread so these bananas don't go bad, I should bake butter mochi for my parent's party, Roy needs to practice his ukulele, my mom seems way too busy to watch Ryan for me so I won't even ask, I need to make fresh food for Ryan to eat, I need to water the plants, I need to balance the checkbook, I need to do the laundry, etc. But no where, not once in all of this did I decide that maybe I should make myself a priority. Everyone else always comes first. And then I wonder why I feel so lost and unfulfilled.
So from here on, I will make a far greater effort to do things for myself. I have to. It's that or I'll starting pack on the pounds and swinging umbrellas at the paparazzi (and both Britney and I know what that's like).
Sunday, February 08, 2009
Random Ry
Only one person at the Jake Shimabukuro concert got to make it into a 'dinner concert' event- guess who?!
We saw Jake perform on a Thursday, and Roy had an ukulele class the very next night. Talk about being inspired!
For some reason, Ry is always super happy and giggly after his bath! (And look! I taught him well- he's sucking in his tummy for the camera!!!) ;-)
Roy just cut down more apple bananas from our front yard...so it's time to make mashed bananas and blueberries for Ry and fresh, warm macadamia nut-banana bread for us!And last but not least...I finally caught a little someone in the act! (He was crawling into the bedroom and knocking down our books at least once a day!)
Tuesday, February 03, 2009
Did you know that laser eye surgery...is surgery?
So I now realize I probably shouldn't have lied to the Laser Eye Center about watching the pre-op video they gave me. I assumed it would be some silly, time wasting promotional video that would show some douchebag laying in a chair getting their eyes zapped and then jumping up and down screaming 'Halelujah I can see!!!' afterwards. So when both my eye doctor and the laser eye center staff asked me if I had watched their previous video and knew what to expect- I eagerly bobbed my head up and down and quickly signed the form indicating that I did.
...and that was maybe not such a good idea. Because I had no idea what to expect. I just thought it would be quick, simple and easy. So when I got called into a room and asked to disinfect my eyelids about ten times and then handed one of those blue shower cap thingies to put on my head and a set of blue hospital booties- I was a little surprised. However, it was when I entered the operating room about an hour later when it finally hit me that I actually getting surgery. Because I swear- it looked like I was about to get open heart surgery. Three very somber-faced staff members were all standing next to an operating table covered head to toe (hair nets, scrubs, booties, latex gloves, face masks) in medical gear...all I could see were their eyes. They would have made the Taliban beam.
So after quickly taking all of this in, my once carefree, confident strut was quickly replaced by the stunned realization that perhaps, yes, I should have taken the 5-10 measly minutes to watch the damned video. Once inside, I was asked to lie down on the tissue-covered operating table that was directly beneath two very large, loudly-humming, expensive-looking machines.
The first part of the surgery involved the doctor sticking what I'd imagine was the equivalent of a speculum into my eyes so that I could not blink. My chair was then swiveled directly underneath one of the machines. At this point, someone gently, but firmly placed their hands over my hands. And please, correct me if I'm wrong, but this usually means- "I have to restrain you right now, because if you accidentally jerk around, you will either be maimed. Or killed. AND somewhere... a puppy will die."
So naturally this concerned me a little, and I willed myself not to move so much as a millimeter, even if the Earth shook. But I didn't have time to dwell on that, because just as they were about to start the procedure, I heard my eye surgeon utter the two most dreaded English-language words no patient or airline passenger ever wants to hear- "Uh oh."
This was followed by a few more concerned "uh oh's" from the rest of the medical team before the surgeon cheerfully informed me that the machine had just given them an error message (oh? is that all?) and that while they were sure it was nothing, they wanted to call Tech Support...you know, just to make sure.
Um. Yeah. Let's go ahead and do that. Because even though I hate dealing with Tech Support for my banking issues, my computer issues and all of my other customer service issues- I trust them implicitly with my vision.
So for about 10 minutes I had to lay there as still as a corpse under a blanket with only my head and toes peeking out. Once they had booted the machine back up and had no more error messages, I was told that they were going to cut off a flap of my eyelid. And for some reason, while I suppose I always knew this was going to happen, I had just assumed I'd never know or feel when they did it. And in fact, I very much felt them do it. Because once she flipped my flap over (heh heh...I like that...she flipped my flap) over, everything went blurry before going totally black! It was the most bizzare sensation ever.
Once that was done, I was swiveled over to the other machine for the laser part of the surgery. This pretty much felt like was someone was noisily zapping me in the eye with miniature red firecrackers for 40 seconds. I could even smell my eyelashes burning (and as an Asian, this is somewhat concerning seeing as we're only given about one quarter the amount of eyelashes all you other white folk get). Once that was done, the eye doctor lowered my eye flap back down and my vision was immediately restored.
The entire procedure (for both eyes) was over in less than 10 minutes, but because Ms. Know It All was a little intimidated by the shock of it all, it felt more like 20 minutes. But the greatest unexpected bonus was that unbeknownst to me, Roy got to see the whole thing live through an observation window (magnified on a tv screen)! Naturally he loved it. Because what loving, doting husband wouldn't want to see their wife's eyeballs cut off, shot with a laser beam ("Luke! I am your father!") and then reattached? It's true love!
Once it was all done, I was given a pair of glasses that strongly resembled a paintball mask and allowed to shuffle back to my hotel with Roy as my guide. It was kinda nice, if only for the reason that not one bum dared to ask me for so much as a nickel. So in summary-
1. Laser eye surgery is painless. However, I was told its much less painless for long-time contact lens wearers because we don't have any nerves left in our eyes to feel pain.
2. Yes, you can immediately see better afterwards...but it is a little blurry at first and takes a few days to get better.
3. If you can do it, go for it. Every night I smile as I automatically reach to take out my lenses and realize that I don't have any in there.
4. If you wear the original Acuvue lenses in +6.00 and need a few boxes...shoot me an email!
Halelujah! I can see!!!!
...and that was maybe not such a good idea. Because I had no idea what to expect. I just thought it would be quick, simple and easy. So when I got called into a room and asked to disinfect my eyelids about ten times and then handed one of those blue shower cap thingies to put on my head and a set of blue hospital booties- I was a little surprised. However, it was when I entered the operating room about an hour later when it finally hit me that I actually getting surgery. Because I swear- it looked like I was about to get open heart surgery. Three very somber-faced staff members were all standing next to an operating table covered head to toe (hair nets, scrubs, booties, latex gloves, face masks) in medical gear...all I could see were their eyes. They would have made the Taliban beam.
So after quickly taking all of this in, my once carefree, confident strut was quickly replaced by the stunned realization that perhaps, yes, I should have taken the 5-10 measly minutes to watch the damned video. Once inside, I was asked to lie down on the tissue-covered operating table that was directly beneath two very large, loudly-humming, expensive-looking machines.
The first part of the surgery involved the doctor sticking what I'd imagine was the equivalent of a speculum into my eyes so that I could not blink. My chair was then swiveled directly underneath one of the machines. At this point, someone gently, but firmly placed their hands over my hands. And please, correct me if I'm wrong, but this usually means- "I have to restrain you right now, because if you accidentally jerk around, you will either be maimed. Or killed. AND somewhere... a puppy will die."
So naturally this concerned me a little, and I willed myself not to move so much as a millimeter, even if the Earth shook. But I didn't have time to dwell on that, because just as they were about to start the procedure, I heard my eye surgeon utter the two most dreaded English-language words no patient or airline passenger ever wants to hear- "Uh oh."
This was followed by a few more concerned "uh oh's" from the rest of the medical team before the surgeon cheerfully informed me that the machine had just given them an error message (oh? is that all?) and that while they were sure it was nothing, they wanted to call Tech Support...you know, just to make sure.
Um. Yeah. Let's go ahead and do that. Because even though I hate dealing with Tech Support for my banking issues, my computer issues and all of my other customer service issues- I trust them implicitly with my vision.
So for about 10 minutes I had to lay there as still as a corpse under a blanket with only my head and toes peeking out. Once they had booted the machine back up and had no more error messages, I was told that they were going to cut off a flap of my eyelid. And for some reason, while I suppose I always knew this was going to happen, I had just assumed I'd never know or feel when they did it. And in fact, I very much felt them do it. Because once she flipped my flap over (heh heh...I like that...she flipped my flap) over, everything went blurry before going totally black! It was the most bizzare sensation ever.
Once that was done, I was swiveled over to the other machine for the laser part of the surgery. This pretty much felt like was someone was noisily zapping me in the eye with miniature red firecrackers for 40 seconds. I could even smell my eyelashes burning (and as an Asian, this is somewhat concerning seeing as we're only given about one quarter the amount of eyelashes all you other white folk get). Once that was done, the eye doctor lowered my eye flap back down and my vision was immediately restored.
The entire procedure (for both eyes) was over in less than 10 minutes, but because Ms. Know It All was a little intimidated by the shock of it all, it felt more like 20 minutes. But the greatest unexpected bonus was that unbeknownst to me, Roy got to see the whole thing live through an observation window (magnified on a tv screen)! Naturally he loved it. Because what loving, doting husband wouldn't want to see their wife's eyeballs cut off, shot with a laser beam ("Luke! I am your father!") and then reattached? It's true love!
Once it was all done, I was given a pair of glasses that strongly resembled a paintball mask and allowed to shuffle back to my hotel with Roy as my guide. It was kinda nice, if only for the reason that not one bum dared to ask me for so much as a nickel. So in summary-
1. Laser eye surgery is painless. However, I was told its much less painless for long-time contact lens wearers because we don't have any nerves left in our eyes to feel pain.
2. Yes, you can immediately see better afterwards...but it is a little blurry at first and takes a few days to get better.
3. If you can do it, go for it. Every night I smile as I automatically reach to take out my lenses and realize that I don't have any in there.
4. If you wear the original Acuvue lenses in +6.00 and need a few boxes...shoot me an email!
Halelujah! I can see!!!!
Monday, February 02, 2009
Oahu Recap
So much to say, so little time! I have a very sick little boy (nothing serious), so for now, I will have to let photos depict most of the magic that was our trip to Oahu:
Me...post surgery. Rockin' the protective eye wear (I'm happy to loan it out).
Ry...not all that happy with the new hat we got him for our upcoming camping trip.
We got to sneak in a quick hike up Diamond Head with my mom, aunt and uncle...
....and Ryan was clearly enthralled by the whole experience.
What can I say- I forgot about my court date, so of course Roy turned me in (he's all about the tough love) to Dog the Bounty Hunter. Dog, Beth, Duane Lee & Baby Lisa were all on our flight back to Kona (where Leland picked them up).
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