Making Lemonade, and Other Entrepreneurial Pursuits

I'm two weeks out of my vacation, and I can't seem to shake vacation mode. I thought that a vacation would recharge my batteries, and bypass some major burnout. Instead, it has made crystal clear the fact that my current work situation is not working for me.

I want to be my own boss. I want to call the shots, and plan my daily work around what matters most -- and works best -- for me. Not for anyone else.

When I was a kid, I was the neighborhood entrepreneur. I bought candy from the ice cream man and pulled it around in my Radio Flyer wagon, selling it to the neighborhood kids at a huge mark-up (I made a killing on that venture, until someone found my stash of cash buried in the pachysandras in the front yard). My best friend at the time (and partner in crime) and I established our own book and video rental store in his garage, our very own Blockbuster before there was a Blockbuster. We put on plays and charged for tickets. We sold lemonade, which one neighbor claimed tasted like...well, she didn't like it and as a result set her son up with a lemonade stand of his own across the street, setting off the Great Lemonade War of 1982 and putting us both out of business before the day was over. We even sold raffle tickets for a quarter apiece (or five for a dollar), a chance to win lame prizes like a yarn doll or a deck of Uno cards (I broke a glass vase in one neighbor's foyer, and was forced to give her five tickets for free).

Back then, when it came to that kind of thing, I was fearless. Today, not so much. And that's why I'm adding it to my bucket list.

There are three big reasons for my fear:
1) I am seriously uncomfortable with the idea of not getting a regular paycheck. I like being able to predict when the money is coming in, and how much. Without that steady paycheck, life is a roller coaster ride of ups and downs, and that's scary as hell. We have bills to pay, for crying out loud! Then again, there is a certain thrill that comes with riding that roller coaster...and there is a part of me that needs that thrill, as well. (Not to mention the fact that in all reality, my paychecks have not been all that regular or predictable these past few months.)
2) I have a hard time talking about myself, and what I am doing (see my last blog). I make my living in public relations and marketing, but I can't market myself. The bottom line is that I worry too much about what other people think of me, and about whether they care about what I have to say.
3) Finally, I fear failure. (This seems to be a recurring theme, doesn't it?) I am afraid that I will try and it won't work, or I will sink myself and my family further into debt, or that the decision I made was the wrong one and I should have stuck with the sure thing. There are a million quotes on failure out there, but they all say pretty much the same thing: the only true failure is in not trying.

I know that I can't just up and quit my job tomorrow; that would be irresponsible. But I have set in motion some serious plans to extricate myself from "the man" and start living the work life that I want to live. Stay tuned!

Leaving My Footprint on the World

I was reminded of two things last night: one, that there are people out there actually reading this thing (thanks!), and two, that writing this blog is really something that belongs on my bucket list. As it was pointed out to me that I really hang myself out here, I realized that all this time I've been pouring my heart out, opening up, and letting people get to know me -- something that I have always had a hard time doing "in real life".

Interestingly, it made me want to write here more.

I've always been reluctant to open up and talk about myself. It's the over-thinking thing again. Why would they care what I have to say? What if they think what I think is stupid? What if they don't like me? In the past, it's led me to gravitate toward people who were far more interested in what they themselves had to say, which made it easy for me to retreat even more inside myself. I fooled myself into thinking that I'm "a really good listener" -- but that alone doesn't necessarily equate to being a good friend. In situations with new people, I think my reticence more often than not gives the wrong impression -- that I'm not interested in being friends, or worse, that I'm a stuck up b---- (you fill in the blank).

Even worse, it makes me forgettable. I've been painfully reminded of this fact more than once, when a friend of mine gushed about how happy she was that no one remembered who I was -- so she was able to snap me up in the softball draft. (I've been in the league for five years.) There was a time when "flying under the radar" like that seemed like a good thing; no more. I want to be remembered. I'll never leave a footprint on the world if I tiptoe through life.

I've met more people in recent years who ask me questions, who really seem to want to know what I think, who reach out constantly to invite me to things -- I really appreciate it, and I think that it has helped me to get to where I am now. But they shouldn't have to do all of the work. It's time I take the reins a bit, share without being pushed to.

This blog is a start. The next step is to take what I'm doing and learning here, and apply it in the real world. Consider it added to the bucket list.

New Year's in September

I love September. These past few days have been cool and clear, and you can almost feel the back-to-school energy like electricity in the air. I was one of the few kids who could not wait to go back to school in the fall...all the way through high school. To me, it always represented a fresh start, another opportunity to reinvent myself. It was my "new year".


To this day, I still feel that excitement as September approaches. As much as I love the summer, by mid-August I'm longing for the cool, wood-smoke scented air that signals my fresh start.

And here it is!


I've already got a couple of irons in the fire on the reinvention front. But now it's also time to get back to business on my health.

I know, it's a risk to pile more onto my plate (no pun intended), but it has to be done. Anyway, I've been here before, so it should be easy. And I'm not sure I'm going to go all-out, gung-ho South Beach at this point, just sticking to the basics:

1. Drink the water. It does absolutely no good sitting there in the water cooler. My head and muscles will be so thankful.
2. Moderation, not deprivation. And not overindulgence, either -- I don't care what "they" say, there is such a thing as too much of a good thing. Just ask my gut. And my husband.
3. Exercise. I don't care if it's just a walk around the block -- my butt needs to unstick itself from this chair at least once a day. And a trip to the fridge doesn't count. Neither does the trip across the room to the water cooler, although that is a good start (see #1).

That's it. Plain and simple. What are your "back to school" resolutions?

Adding to the Bucket List

As the River Edge Women's Softball League season comes to a close -- and is pretty much over for me, as my team, the Redrum, lost to the Cougars in the playoffs this week -- I am reminded of something I need to add to my list of fears to overcome.

I am afraid to slide. As an avid softball player, with years of experience under my belt, I'm almost embarrassed to admit that I have never slid into a base. Never. Not ever. To cut myself some slack here, the truth is I've never been taught. I don't know how. But, admittedly, I haven't actually made an effort to learn. Sliding requires complete commitment, a gung-ho, just-go-for-it-and-stop-thinking-so-much attitude. It's about trusting your instinct. Which, as we all can gather, goes completely against my hesitating nature -- and it's why I'm afraid of it. It falls under the "fear of looking like a complete moron" AND the "fear of getting hurt" bucket list categories -- a double-whammy.

So, you're all my witnesses. I am laying down the gauntlet: by hook or by crook, I will finally slide.

Moussaka for the Masses

I've been on staycation this week, and seeing as I have so much time on my hands, I've been able to feed my foodie side...at least a little bit.

On a recent trip to Stop & Shop, I couldn't resist the special little rolling cart in the produce department piled high with pre-packaged, buy-me-today-please-or-I'll-go-bad-tomorrow deals. I snagged a package with a nice, fat eggplant and a little, skinny zucchini for a buck and change. SCORE!

When I got the suckers home, I scratched my head wondering what I was going to do with them -- and fast. Maybe a pasta dish? Some baba ghanoush? Some kind of funky eggplant bread? Taking stock of what I had in the fridge, I found some defrosted lean ground beef. Okay, another piece to the puzzle.

So I plugged the words eggplant, zucchini, and ground beef into Google, and it came back to me with the overwhelming response of -- moussaka. Of course! Dave and I had seen Guy Fieri chowing down on the stuff on an episode of "Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives" (love, love, love this show), and I've been dying to try it ever since.

For those who don't know what moussaka is, it's kind of like a Greek lasagna -- without the noodles. And with loads of creamy white sauce. Not the most figure-friendly meal (that bechamel sauce is a killer, but it makes the dish) -- but hey, everyone's got to splurge now and then. I tried my best to at least cut the fat from the recipe, and it came out really good; I'll give both the higher- and lesser-fat options, and you can choose.

Eggplant & Zucchini Moussaka

1 large eggplant (or 2-3 small)
1-2 small zucchinis
1 pound lean ground beef
salt to taste
black pepper to taste
2 onions, chopped
1 clove garlic, minced (I cheated and used 1/4 tsp of the jarred stuff)
3/4 tsp garam masala* (if you don't have garam masala, use 1/4 tsp each of cinnamon and nutmeg)
1 tsp Italian seasoning
1 (8oz) can tomato sauce
1/2 cup red wine
1 egg, beaten

For the sauce:
4 cups milk (I used soy milk; lowfat or skim milk would also work)
1/2 cup butter (try the Smart Balance Butter Blend Sticks to cut the fat content)
6 tbsp flour (I used Trader Joe's 100% White Whole Wheat)
salt to taste
black pepper, to taste

1-1/2 cups grated Parmesan cheese
1/4 tsp garam masala (or nutmeg, your choice)

1. Cut the ends off the eggplant and zucchini (skins on), and slice lengthwise (1/4-1/2 inch thick for eggplant, 1/4 inch thick for zucchini). Place in single layer on a baking sheet, spray with canola (or olive oil) spray, and brown under the broiler, about 10-15 minutes.

2. In a large skillet over medium heat, brown the ground beef with the salt, pepper, onions, and garlic. Once meat is brown, add garam masala and Italian seasoning. Pour in tomato sauce and wine, and mix well. Simmer for 20 minutes. Allow to cool, then stir in beaten egg.

3. Make the bechamel sauce. Heat milk (you could heat it in a pot on the stove, but I microwaved it for a couple of minutes in the glass measuring bowl to save on cleanup). Melt butter in a medium saucepan over medium heat; whisk in flour until smooth. Lower heat, and gradually pour in the milk, whisking constantly until it thickens. (IMPORTANT: Do not let the flour mixture cook too much before adding the milk; the longer it cooks, the browner and "nuttier" it gets, and no longer will be a "white" sauce.) Season with salt and pepper.

4. Arrange a layer of half the eggplant and zucchini in a greased 9x13 inch baking dish. Cover with all of the meat mixture, and then sprinkle 1/2 cup of Parmesan cheese over the meat. Cover with the remaining eggplant and zucchini, sprinkle another 1/2 cup of cheese on top. Pour the bechamel sauce over the top, sprinkle with garam masala (or nutmeg) and the remaining cheese.

5. Bake for 1 hour at 350 degrees.

* A note on garam masala. I discovered this blend of spices about six years ago, when I had to hunt it down for a recipe for Moroccan Lentil Soup (another awesome recipe; I make it all the time in the fall/winter). While it's generally an Indian/South Asian ingredient (consisting of, at a minimum, cumin, cloves, coriander, black pepper, ginger, cinnamon, cardamom, and sometimes nutmeg), its flavor lends a nice twist to Mediterranean cooking. At the time, I lived in Queens and was able to find a huge container of it at my local Associated grocery store. You may need to check a specialty foods or higher-end grocery store if you don't live in one of the five boroughs. Or, you could try an online store like Penzeys (excellent quality, though a bit pricey) or The Spice House (they also have some locations in the Midwest; I love the Chicago store!).

In the case of this recipe, since cinnamon and nutmeg are generally the big spice players in moussaka, I decided to try the garam masala. I'm not a huge fan of nutmeg, but its flavor mellows out among the others in the blend. I highly recommend trying it!

Taking the Leap of Faith...in Myself

When I first started dating my husband, Dave, we talked a lot about our dreams, shared our philosophies on life, and laid out our goals -- all, of course, in the span of about three weeks' time as part of the intricate courtship dance, to see how and if these two lives will somehow, someday fit together. At the time -- especially being only three weeks in -- the concept of marriage, and family, was a little frightening to talk about. We called it "starting a bobsled team".

One thing Dave said, one of the many "truisms" (he made a list) that has always held true (go Dave!), was this: Your worries keep you honest; your fears hold you back.

That was nearly twelve years ago.

Recently, I was reminded of this adage and have not been able to let it go. During a long-overdue visit with my best friend (hi, Katie! We still need to schedule in that weekly call we promised, what, six weeks ago?), as we were catching up on life while jumping from jacuzzi to pool and back again, she made a very astute observation.

"See how you are inching your way into the pool? Me, I just jump in. You hesitate. That's the difference between us."

She is so right. And that halting, inch-by-inch progression to full submersion in that pool? The story of my life. That's my fear, holding me back.


I'm miserable in my job. I have ideas for at least half a dozen businesses that I have yet to start. I have dreams, I know I do -- remember back when Dave and I were dating? We talked about them all the time. At least, thank goodness, we finally started that bobsled team!




True to my character, it has taken me six weeks of hemming and hawing, negotiating, and thinking about it to finally do -- not decide to do, but do -- something about it.


Earlier this week, I started writing my first novel. (This does not count the popular seventh-grade serial The Strange Things That Happened in Room 101, or 2050: Seascape, the self-proclaimed cult hit in tenth.)

This step is a long time coming; I've wanted to write ever since that Room 101 journaling adventure in Mr. Griffith's seventh grade English class. But something has always stopped me. I now know what that something has always been: fear. The burning question is, fear of what?

The list is endless. There's the fear of criticism, which is inevitable in writing. Your work is criticized first by someone (or more) who you have to trust to give you that outside perspective as you're writing; then by agents, publishers and editors as you try to get your hard work recognized and published; then (if you're lucky) by book critics and the general public. Then there are the unknowns. What if I do this and find out that I suck at it? What if I do this and find out that I hate it? What if I get writer's block? What if I have to speak in front of a large audience? What if? What if? What if???? It's exhausting.

If some of this is a little repetitive, forgive me; I know I've blogged about it before. Which is all the more reason why I had to get off my duff and do something about it.

I'm 1,117 words in; only about 99,000 more to go.

Now that the novel is underway -- a BIG step one -- I'm starting to think about other things I'm afraid of, where my fear could be holding me back. I'm not talking about things that have major danger or death factors, like skydiving or bungee-jumping, or running with the bulls. No way in hell anyone's getting me to do any of those, so I'm not going to set myself up for failure. I'm talking about the things that, basically, my EGO is afraid of. Like, singing in public (not as part of a large group and definitely not because I'm drunk). Or, telling someone that they were right and I was wrong. Or, starting one of those businesses.

Step two is listing all of these things -- large and small. Step three will be to check them all off, one by one. Call it my bucket list, if you will. I call it my path to a better life.

What are your fears? What dreams do or did you have that you have yet to realize? What is holding you back? I encourage everyone to join me, make a list of your own. Feel free to share -- and don't be afraid, I won't bite!

Are You There, Blog? It's Me, Stephanie.

Dear Blog,

It has been quite some time since I last wrote, and I am certain you must feel somewhat neglected. I wouldn't blame you in the least if you didn't want to hear from me ever again.

I have no excuse for leaving you the way I did, so suddenly and without so much as a goodbye. One day, I wasn't there anymore.

For me, it wasn't so sudden. The term "falling off the wagon" isn't entirely accurate. That makes it sound so simple, and there's so much more to it than that. Your foot slips off at first, then you notice your shoelace is untied, and while you're leaning over to tie your shoelace the wagon hits a bump and knocks you off the seat and you grab onto the wagon cover as you try to get your footing, but then the canvas starts to tear and you go with it, flying off the back of the wagon and hanging onto the shredded material as you're dragged behind until you can't hang on any longer, and you're left there on the ground covered in dust and road rash and hugging a tumbleweed, watching the wagon drive off in the distance. And all you want is a Big Mac, fries and an ice cream sundae.

Long story short, I fell off the wagon. (Oh, wait...now I get it...) I can say that I learned some interesting and important things about myself in the process. First, I am a stress eater. Second, I am an emotional eater. Third -- put the two together and get out of the way, because if you don't I'm going to run you over on my way to the nearest Dairy Queen.

So Blog, you can probably deduce from this that things have been a bit stressful for me lately. I know I should have talked to you about it instead of running away, and I hope you can forgive me and give me a chance to make it up to you.

I am both lucky and amazed that despite the fact that I've been splurging quite a lot over the last few months, I have come through with my initial weight loss success intact. I can't say the same for my ego, which is more than a little bruised from the fall but should make a full recovery in time.

I guess what I'm trying to say is, I'm sorry for being away for so long -- and I promise that I will try to be better about writing and keeping you in the loop about what's going on. I'm also going to remember that I'm only human, and that I don't have to be perfect -- like everyone else, I'm going to get through each day and make the most of what I've got in this life. Along those lines, I'm working on a little bit of a different, and less perfectionist, relationship with food.

Anyway Blog, I hope this clears things up at least a little bit. And that we can be friends again. Maybe we can share an ice cream sundae one of these days.

Love,
Stephanie

Zen and the Art of Creamed Spinach

I think that Michelle Obama has been reading my blog.

Otherwise, why would she be taking up the crusade for healthy eating and healthy living?

Well, maybe she's just one smart cookie -- er, carrot. Regardless of how she came up with the idea, I think it's great. My daughter is only seven months old and her food needs are pretty basic, but I plan on making sure that as she gets older her dinner plate continues to be filled with colorful, healthy -- and still tasty -- whole foods. And I'm getting a head start by getting into the habit for myself and my husband, so that we can set a good and healthy example.

On a side note, Obama's also got the nation buzzing about how to make creamed spinach -- without the cream. A recipe I am most definitely going to be trying for myself one day, soon.

I'll let you know how that creamed spinach goes.

Getting My Groove Back

I can be as on-the-ball-cruising-along-all-systems-go as anything with the healthy lifestyle, and all it takes is one nasty cold to blast it all to hell.

Well, maybe it's not that bad... but for a few days last week it really seemed like it. At the very least, life as I knew it pretty much screeched to a halt. I didn't feel like eating, much less eating well, and forget about the running routine. All I wanted to do was wrap myself up in a blanket and sleep until it was all over.

After a mess like that, it is really, really hard to get back into the swing of things. I had stopped exercising, given up the food diary, lost control of the meal planning and had no motivation to go to the grocery store. I had lost my momentum.

For another several days after I started feeling better, I kind of floundered a bit as I tried to regain my footing. We ate take-out more often than I'd like because a) there wasn't much in the fridge and b) I had no inclination to cook, though I am proud to say that for the most part (short of being in control of every single ingredient) we were able to keep it healthy: Chinese shrimp & mixed vegetables, Greek chicken souvlaki with grilled vegetables, and that one Wendy's baked potato with some chili. Having lost a week on my running program, I wasn't sure where to start back up. I regained one pound that I lost during my illness -- which was fine, because that was kind of a "cheat" pound, anyway, but it also shined a light on the fact that I have been really off my game.

This weekend, I started taking steps to get my groove back:
1. Meal plan. I buckled down and created that meal plan for the week. From that, I made the grocery list. And then... I actually went to the grocery store. The house is now stocked with everything I need to stay on track, and I once again have a road map for the week's dinners. Now, at dinnertime, there is no "but there's nothing in the house" or "I don't know what to cook" -- my two favorite excuses.
2. Running program. When it comes to exercise, Nike really had it right: just do it. Seriously, I just had to get up off my arse and do it. I ran one day at the level where I last left off; then stepped right up to the next level and will continue the program from there. And you know what? It felt good. Why that fact is so easy to forget is beyond me.
3. Food diary. Really and truly, I believe in the food diary one hundred percent. Not only does it keep me honest, it helps me to evaluate my eating habits and ensure that I am eating enough of the good stuff. I know, for example, that I really need to kick up my vegetable intake a notch; I'm not getting enough dairy, or fruit for that matter; and I should probably pull back a little on the cheese. That doesn't even sound painful at all -- go figure, a "diet" where I have to eat more!

Despite a minor detour, I think that I am headed back down the right path. And it only took me a week to figure it out; in the past, it might have taken a year. That's progress!

The Spice of Life

For me, there is nothing more energizing, nothing that recharges my batteries more than a new look. I am constantly reinventing myself, and have over the years been known to surprise many (including Dave) with dramatically different...locks. Red, blonde, long, short, spiky, curly, straight...you name it, I've done it to my hair. (Well, except for maybe purple, mohawk, or completely shaved. But you get the picture.) I have virtually no fear when it comes to my hair -- my mantra is, It will grow back.

So, since the cold, cruel winter renewed its icy grip this past week -- dumping snow, ice, and a nasty cold on my doorstep -- I needed something to pull me out of a rut of despair. Off to Supercuts I went, armed with some pictures I printed from the Web of what I hoped would be my next cool, new 'do. (If you're looking for some ideas for your next haircut, this short hairstyles blog is chock full of inspiration.)



Twenty bucks (and a box of ColorSilk #42) later, I have an awesome new look and a renewed sense of vigor. Yesterday, although the temperature barely broke freezing, I had the distinct feeling that Spring was on its way. I could almost smell it. There was decidedly more spring in my step (no pun intended). The effect was immediate, and truly amazing.



So what is it about changing my look that is so invigorating? I think the key word is change. The one thing I hear over and over again on South Beach is, when you hit a plateau in your weight loss, change up your food choices. Exercise routine in a rut? Throw in something different. Our bodies get used to the same thing day in and day out, become complacent, figure out the path of least resistance. We need to throw it a curve, shake things up to get it revved up again. I believe the same holds true with the mind. When you get into a rut of negative thinking, the path of least resistance is to continue that train of thought. A new look is the quickest, easiest way for me to jump start my brain, plain and simple.

They say that variety is the spice of life. It's what makes life interesting... it's what makes life worth living. Don't be afraid of change; embrace it. And if you find yourself stuck in a rut, take yourself directly to the nearest hairdresser. Don't worry, it will grow back!

Taking the Potato Off Its Pedestal

You know those revealing photos you find on People, TMZ, or XYZ (insert your favorite gossip rag here) that show celebrities without their make-up? And you are horrified to discover that those gorgeous, flawless and oh-so-put-together celebs, underneath layers of meticulously applied make-up, are actually wrinkled or blemished or worse, just (gasp!) plain?

That is the sad realization I came to yesterday after a few bites of a much anticipated baked potato. On its own, a potato is just dry, pale and pasty... not unlike some of these make-up-less celebrities.

I know what you're thinking. Stephanie ate a baked potato? What about South Beach? Isn't that illegal? Okay, so maybe you're not thinking that. But yes, I did eat a baked potato, which is actually okay to eat (VERY RARELY) on the Beach. I took precautions, such as pairing the potato with carb competitors like a little fat and fiber -- in the form of some chili -- to slow down digestion of the starch. I even ate the skin, which is full of fiber and holds pretty much all of the worthwhile nutrients the potato can claim. But that's beside the point.

I realized, as I added my Smart Balance, and (low fat) sour cream, and loaded on the garlic pepper...that the potato itself actually has no real flavor on its own. Think about it: have you ever had a plain, no-frills potato? A baked potato is all about the toppings -- butter, sour cream, chives, even broccoli and cheese. The flavor in mashed potatoes comes from butter, milk, cream cheese and whatever else you throw in. Even french fries taste like salt and the fat they're fried in (and if you think I'm wrong about that one, consider how you felt when McDonald's went trans-fat-free on their fries).

I never thought I'd say this -- not in a million years -- but I think I'm done with the potato. I would much rather enjoy a food that doesn't have to be "doctored" to have any flavor. A sweet potato, for example, is far more moist, nutritious and flavorful without adding anything to it.

Forget the make-up. Natural beauty is where it's at. And if you are what you eat... well, you do the math.

Goodbye, Pregnancy Weight!

I admit that I did not gain a huge amount of weight while I was pregnant, only about 18 pounds all told. Nine of those pounds fell right off at Caroline's birth at the end of July (as would be expected), but the other nine... As of January 1 -- a little over five months later -- they were still lingering.

I am thrilled to announce that as I reach the end of my second month on the Beach, I am saying goodbye to the last of that pregnancy weight, for good! (Or, at least until I get pregnant again!)

This week, I was able to wear a pair of jeans I hadn't worn since becoming pregnant. And the size tens I had to give in and purchase back in November, just so I had something I could wear because maternity clothes just weren't kosher anymore... they're falling off of me. I can actually take them off without unbuttoning them!

I've still got another 10-20 pounds to go (the scale is just a gauge, not the last word), but making this mini-milestone has really motivated me to keep going!

Giving It Up for Lent?

I was in the city on Wednesday, and noticed the tell-tale smudges on foreheads announcing the start of Lent. My first thought was, wow, that means it is almost Spring! Then I started to think about what I would give up for 40 days. I was raised Catholic, and would participate in the Lenten ritual by giving up something like chocolate, or candy, or ice cream...interestingly, the sacrifice was nearly always related to food or drink.

These days, I consider myself more of a spiritual person than a religious one, and the Biblical meaning of Lent doesn't resonate with me. But by passing the concept of Lent through a prism, I can see it as an opportunity to initiate change(s) that would make me a better person. It has been said that it takes 30 days to create a new habit; I figure that 40 should really nail it home.

It's hard to "not" do something, though -- it's not exactly an action. It's easy to say I'm going to give up my insecurities, for example, but how exactly do you do that? So rather than focus on not doing a negative, it seems to me that it would be much easier to take action on the positive. Rather than give up...give out?

Hopefully it won't take me the full 40 days to figure out what it is I should "give out" for Lent. But even if it does it wouldn't be a total waste, now, would it?

Procrastinators Anonymous

I have a confession to make: I am a stellar procrastinator. Like, there is no time like tomorrow. Like, not only am I the president... I'm also a client. Like, there's got to be a support group for this.

But I am trying to reform. Really, I am. I started this healthy way of life -- FINALLY -- after making many, many procrastinator-like excuses, not the least of which were:
But I can't go to the grocery store today.
I've got to eat all of the bad stuff in the house before I can fill it with good stuff.
It's not Monday; I always have to start on a Monday.
I could always wait for Lent.
Or New Year's Day. New Year's Day sounds like a good day to start.

I know there are others out there, too. You know who you are; you snorted at a minimum of three of the five excuses I listed. And I want you to join me, because darned if I'm going to do it by myself.

So without further ado, here are five reasons why you should start getting healthy TODAY:

1. It can keep you from getting sick. I'm not just talking about heart disease. Research shows that a well balanced diet full of a variety of fruits and vegetables, whole grains, lean proteins and healthy fats will keep your immune system running at peak efficiency. I know I'm jinxing myself by saying this, but I have yet to be kicked in the arse by a major cold this season, and that is unusual for me. (Furiously knocking wood right now.) It could be a coincidence, but I prefer to chalk it up to my diet and exercise.

2. Exercise is a bonafide stress reducer. Not only does it get your endorphins going, it gives you something else to focus on. When I'm in the middle of a run, or a spinning class, or trying to keep up with some uber-complicated Pilates routine, I have a pretty hard time obsessing over whatever is stressing me out that day.

3. It will make you feel good. For better or for worse, what you eat can affect your mood. Except for some -- ahem -- periodic raging hormones and, well, some much-alluded-to job stress (dealing with that -- see #2), I have not felt better than I have since beginning this healthy lifestyle. Except for the last time I did it. And the time before that.

4. It only gets harder as you get older. I can honestly say that when I was on the South Beach Diet four years ago, I lost weight a lot faster than I am now. There has also been a lot of talk about this lately on my online support group, with a number of women in the over forty group reporting that they are having a harder time of it now than they ever did before.

5. There's no time like the present. Seriously, time flies. If you keep thinking that you will start tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow... before you know it, tomorrow will be yesterday. One of my favorite quotes by Mark Twain says it best:

Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.

My Own Worst Enemy

Not too long ago, I wrote about one of my adversaries, the Stress Monster. Today, I'd like to introduce you to a much more insidious beast: the Spectre of Self-Doubt. Unlike the aforementioned Stress Monster, which hides deep inside only to rear its ugly head (in a very Hulk-like way) in moments of extreme pressure, the Spectre of Self-Doubt is always there, following me like a shadow and whispering in my ear.

And the problem with that is, it really holds me back.

Because for every thing I really want to accomplish, that Spectre can come up with ten good reasons why I can't do it. And for some reason -- especially in the wake of a Stress Monster attack -- I am inclined to believe it.

For example: I want to be a writer. I've been a writer, deep down in my soul, since I was a child. I spent hours upon hours writing epic adventure stories using my friends (and even some choice celebrities) as characters. (I also believe that someone found one of my old marble notebooks and used the contents to create the SeaQuest TV series... but that's a story for another time.) As an adult, I've channeled that creativity into public relations. It's not really what I want to do when I grow up, but for a long time that Spectre has led me to believe that I can't do anything beyond that.

So, you want to write, do you? What, do you think you're going to be a novelist or something? Do you really believe that anyone is going to want to read what you write? You can't make a living doing that. You can't even put half a sentence together before deleting it. You don't have time for this - you've got to work your real job, make sure the bills get paid, do the laundry, take care of the baby, make dinner, and fulfill everyone elses needs before you can even think about doing what you want to do. You don't have the chops; you already gave that up a long time ago -- what makes you think you can just jump right back in? Blah, blah, blah...

I know that the Spectre is just the byproduct of a latent perfectionism: if I can't do it perfectly, then why bother trying at all? It's that "all or nothing" attitude that I have to overcome if I'm going to get anywhere with my dreams and live the life I want to live. On my terms -- not the Spectre's, not my boss's, and not based on some misguided preconceived notion that things have to be a certain way or not at all.

I think that South Beach -- building healthy eating habits and starting an exercise program -- has been a good first step toward taking control over my life, and an excellent example for taking on other areas as well. I can't "blame the stress" if I overindulge; I make a conscious choice every moment of every day to eat the right foods, despite the stress, but if I slide then it is my fault alone. When it comes to South Beach, I have never said that "I don't have the willpower" -- that would only be giving in to the Spectre and proving her right. And it would kind of make me a hypocrite if I let the Spectre stop me from following my writing dream, or any other dream for that matter.

It's time I apply what I've learned on South Beach, and start making things happen.

Channeling a Tropical Paradise

After a week or so of glorious spring-like weather, winter seems to have returned with a teeny bit of vengeance: it was only 31 degrees (Fahrenheit) this morning when I forced my butt out the door for a run. (I do have to admit, though, that once I got moving I hardly felt the cold at all.)

When I got back from my run, I was naturally jonesing for something that would warm me up. Foraging around in the fridge, I pulled some eggs, low fat cheddar cheese, low fat sour cream, and some black bean salsa left over from an awesome dinner I made the other night (can't take credit... for the recipe, check out my new favorite blog, Kalyn's Kitchen). The result: a yummy South American omelet that warmed me up, cleared my sinuses and filled my head with thoughts of warm, sunny beaches and ice cold margaritas. I even spiced up my V8 with a little hot sauce and a squeeze of lime.

Now, not willing to leave the imaginary tropical breezes behind, I'm sipping a delicious (and healthy!) coconut-mango smoothie. All I need is a paper umbrella and a cabana boy (oh, Dave??), and I'll be set.

Steph's Coconut-Mango Smoothie
3/4 cup skim milk
1/4 cup fat free plain yogurt
1/2 cup frozen mango, cubed (about 14 pieces; I use the Trader Joe's Frozen Mango Chunks)
1 tsp. coconut extract
1 tsp. vanilla extract
2 packets sugar substitute (I use Splenda)

Put all ingredients in the blender and blend until smooth.

Tired of winter, and ready for some tropical sun? Make this smoothie, pull up a lounge chair and enjoy along with me!

A Note from the Heart

Six years ago, on President's Day, my dad died of a massive heart attack. He collapsed while snow blowing his driveway, and likely was gone before he even hit the ground. He was 53 years old.

While the actual day was February 17th (tomorrow), I will always remember it on President's Day. So today, I will remember my dad... and all of the reasons why it is so important to take care of my body and live the best life that I can, as long as I can.

I loved my dad very much. I still love him. But I can't help but feel a little bit angry that he didn't take care of himself better, and even angrier for him that he was cheated of a long and happy life, of retirement, of time with his grandchildren... some of whom will never know him in life.

It was a fluke that I actually saw my dad the night before he died, and I'm so grateful for that. My parents were "babysitting" our dog Ollie, and Dave and I went to pick her up earlier than expected because we knew that a blizzard was coming. That night, Dad was enjoying a big old slice of pizza. For a long time after, I could not even think about pizza without feeling more than a little nauseated.

My dad enjoyed good food. He smoked. He didn't exercise. (Although I do have a memory of running with my dad ONCE... and only once. I try to forget the fact that I was wearing foam rollers in my hair at the time.)

Despite my mom's urging, he never went to the doctor. According to my mom, he thought that he would live into his nineties, as his mother did. I also think that he was just afraid of what he would find out. His father had died of a heart attack before my dad was 17 years old. Heart disease ran in his family -- and it ran hard. After my father's death, several uncles sought medical attention and found that they were dangerously close to following his path. All were treated and are doing well. I am glad that something good could come out of it, but I wish that my dad didn't have to die to make the point.

February is American Heart Month. Cardiovascular diseases are the number one cause of death in the United States, and so many are preventable through a healthy lifestyle and, if necessary, medication. You don't have to starve yourself, or run a marathon. You just have to use common sense and moderation. So from my heart to yours: we have only one body, and one life to live... please take care of yours.

Of course, there was more to my dad than how his life ended, and his life serves just as much as an example to me as his death. He worked hard. He enjoyed what he had and provided well for his family. And he was loved by family and many friends. I want to remember and strive for these things as much as for good health.

I love you, Dad. I miss you. And I will never forget you.

Awesome Blog Alert!

I must take a break from my usual ramblings to recommend a truly awesome blog - Kalyn's Kitchen - which offers a ton of great recipe ideas and tips for those following the South Beach way of eating... or even just trying to eat healthier. You can be sure I'll be following Kalyn to see what she cooks up next!

Holy Hip Flexors, Batman!

You know how when you start a workout routine, you suddenly become aware of a whole host of muscles that you didn't even know you had? Well, today is day three of my new running routine, and hello, hip flexors!

I've stopped and started countless workout routines, and the beginning always goes like this:

On the day of, I feel all wiggly-loosey-goosey. It's actually kind of nice.

The day after, I start to feel a little sore. Not too bad, but I'm starting to notice those long-forgotten muscles.

The second day after, my muscles are screaming and I want to DIE.

Guess what day I'm on? And in this case, my hip flexors are doing all the screaming, with some echoes coming from the peanut gallery (the fronts of my thighs and shins, thanks to the somewhat hilly nature of my running route).

The trick is getting past that second day, which means exercising through the pain. That, and lots of stretching. Once I get through today, and as long as I continue to exercise these muscle groups regularly, it will not hurt nearly as much.

I'm going to keep reminding myself of that, as I build up the courage to get out and run today. In the meantime, ouuuuuuuuuuch.

Baby Steps

The temperature actually went above freezing today, so I went for the first run of my "couch to 5k" running program! And it was a serious workout, too, considering the ten extra pounds of layered clothing that I put on to preempt the cold -- and the extra agility challenges, as I tip-toe-side-stepped my way through patches of ice on the sidewalk (please clear off your sidewalks, people!).

But I feel good. Great, even. I took the first step toward getting fit! Now I just have to remember to take baby steps.

So I'm setting a goal, and some rules. My town has an annual 5K run, which is coming up in April; my goal is to run in that 5K. My running plan is set at just the right pace to get me there. And now the rules:

1. I MUST follow the plan. I have to fight the urge to sprint ahead (no pun intended), which will ultimately burn me out. (Can you tell that I am an all-or-nothing person?)

2. No more excuses. Too cold, too wet, not enough time, I've got to get up early, I have to do the dishes... these are not going to help me reach my goal.

3. Cut myself some slack. At the same time, I have to give myself a break. If I'm sick, I'm sick. If I do fall off the plan, I can't beat myself up over it. Just like with my eating plan, I just have to pick myself up, dust myself off, and keep moving forward.

So, today is day one. Baby step one. I dare you to run with me!

Overcoming the Bear Mentality

I think that there needs to be a shift in the calendar so that New Year's Day falls somewhere around the 21st of March. That way, if I were to have made a New Year's Resolution to get fit in 2009 (but I don't make resolutions, remember?), I would not have to wait three months before starting.

Because although I have been planning to get exercise since the beginning of the year, I have not been able to get past the fact that it's freaking freezing outside. Not only has that kept me from exercising outside, it has seriously hampered my motivation to exercise inside. It was 16 degrees outside yesterday morning, and even though it was a comfortable 68 in my house I could not bring myself to jog in place for five minutes, much less turn on FitTV and groove to Gilad for half an hour.

We are now a little more than halfway through winter, looking at another 6 weeks of it ahead of us (thanks, Phil), and I feel like every ounce of energy I've got is going toward fighting the urge to hibernate. Like a bear, I just want to curl up, close my eyes, and wake up when spring is here.

The only thing this winter that has gotten me off my bum and working out is my weekly basketball game with "the girls" -- if it weren't for the fact that there were others sort of expecting me to show, I might not do it. Even though it's fun. Even though I feel GREAT having gotten an awesome workout. It's not enough to inspire me to exercise at all in the days in between. For the wintertime, at least, I probably need a motivated workout buddy to help me overcome the bear inside.

By the end of this month, nearly half of those who have made a New Year's Resolution will have given up. I can kind of understand why. Winter is cold, depressing and seems to go on forever, and it is very easy to succumb to the desire to hunker down and seek comfort in every way.

If New Year's Day were to be moved to March, perhaps we'll all fare better.

A Close, Personal Relationship with My Kitchen Appliances

One thing that I am enjoying about this new way of eating is that for the first time, I am really starting to use all of the cool kitchen gadgets I've been accumulating over the years -- many of which had been collecting dust in the cabinet, despite the fact that I needed them desperately at the time of purchase. These are a few that I'm getting to know...for better, or worse.

I absolutely love, love, love my KitchenAid Stand Mixer! It's helping me make dough from scratch without breaking a sweat (though I admit I could use the exercise), and is great for whipping up batters for SB-legal sweet treats (yes, they do exist). It was also really good for making whipped cream...something that I will just have to reserve for holidays and other special occasions. I need to make a permanent spot for this baby on my counter.

My blender sucks with a capital S. I take full responsibility for this, because I put it on our wedding registry without really doing my research. I also made the mistake of putting the little circular insert-thingy for the cover on the bottom rack of the dishwasher, so now it's all warped, melted, and basically unusable (though for some strange reason I'm still holding on to it). When I do use the blender, I have to cover that hole with my hand. Currently, the only thing the blender is moderately good at is mixing up a day's worth of formula for the baby...and that's only because it's just water and powder. Anything else it just spins around.

It took me a while, but I've finally warmed up to my food processor. Turns out I had to (accidentally) break three pieces off the cover before it would open and close smoothly. It isn't pretty, but it gets the job done. I've actually been cheating on my blender with the food processor... especially when making smoothies. Unfortunately, the food processor doesn't have a pour spout, so I'm still going to have to find myself a new blender eventually. But in the meantime, I'm enjoying the ride.

Last, but not least, is my faithful immersion blender. This one is an oldie, but a goodie. This always comes in handy when I'm cooking up a big pot of soup or sauce that I need to smooth out (and don't feel like pouring it, in batches, into a blender or food processor and then trying to figure out where to put the first batch so that I can blend the next one). While I don't use it often, I can't bring myself to let it go because, like some of the outfits in my closet, I just might need it someday.

I'd love to know what appliances others are using, loving, hating, can't live without or can't wait to toss out. Especially blenders... because I'm in the market for one.

Notes from the Underbelly

It's been a rough week, and I'm just now starting to get my bearings again. I did notice one thing about myself this week, though: when things get rough, I close up shop and hide. I don't think that's working for me anymore. In the past, I might have kept myself closed off for weeks, even months; but this time it only lasted a few days. I hope that's a good sign.

I was able to stay on plan, though it was harder for me this week. I just found myself less prepared, and less motivated. I'm glad that I made it through, but I did learn a few things that I'd like to share -- some tactical, some more philosophical, but all equally important in my book.

1. I need to work on my meal planning skills. I can have all of the food in the world on hand, but it doesn't help me if it's in the freezer come dinner time.

2. I can't let external things like job angst distract me from my goals. A bad job, a recession, an annoying person... they all come and go. But my body (and mind, I hope) are going to be with me for a lifetime.

3. I have to remember that my daughter is watching me. I know that she is only six months old right now, but she is a sponge -- and will only become spongier as time goes on. I want to set a good example for her, because I know that someday, the way I react to things might be the way she reacts to them.

4. I cannot become complacent. Every day, I need to reset my resolve, remind myself that success does not come on autopilot. Just because I have been doing well so far does not mean that I do not have to work at it; the minute I forget that, I will start to slide.

5. I am not doing this in a vacuum. I have made connections with family, friends (old and new) and even strangers who are all supporting me in this endeavor. And I hope that I am supporting them, as well. This is one more thing that I have to remind myself of every day, because these connections are a very important part of living a "whole" life, and it goes beyond just losing weight or eating healthy. These connections are there to make me stronger, and they have so far proven to be far better than the isolation I mentioned earlier.

So this week was somewhat humbling, but the best thing I can do right now is learn from it, and put those lessons into action. I'm picking myself up, dusting myself off, and getting back into the race.

Water: The Drinking Game

Drinking enough water is one of the most important things you can do. Probably the most important thing. Sufficient hydration allows your body to do what it needs to do more efficiently; it cleanses; it fills you up (did you know that a lot of times when we think we are hungry, we are actually thirsty?); it makes you feel good. There is really no good reason NOT to drink plenty of it.

I say this after I just chugged a 16-ounce glass of water, my first of the day. At two in the afternoon. Clearly, I'm having a hard time. We have a water cooler just three steps from where I sit, just staring at me, and I'm still struggling to get a decent amount of water in.

So, I'm inventing a new drinking game that will guarantee I get in my daily water requirement... and then some.

In the spirit of those oh-so-fun party games from my youth, I will have to drink (water) every time...
...I refresh my browser on Facebook or iVillage.
...I complain about how cold it is outside.
...Rachael Ray says "delish" or "E.V.O.O." on Food Network.
...my dogs whine to be let outside.
...my dogs bark to come inside.
...the phone rings.
...the boiler kicks on.
...I check my email (work and personal).
...the dogs bark at something outside (real or imaginary).
...I take a sip of coffee.
...one of the baby's toys makes a noise.
...I go to the bathroom (this will up the ante significantly as the day wears on).

I'll let you know how that goes.

Four Weeks Down, a Lifetime to Go

I've just completed four weeks on the Beach (two weeks Phase I "detox" and two weeks on Phase II, the weight-loss phase), and I am feeling really good! And it's only the beginning. The thing about building healthy eating habits is, it's a lifetime commitment. Unlike dieting, which is often associated with deprivation as a means to an end (a goal weight) and therefore only undertaken for a finite amount of time, healthy eating is meant to be maintained over the course of one's life. Dieting is a sprint; healthy eating, a marathon.

I think that "dieting" is the reason that so many people "fail" in their weight loss attempts. They either deprive themselves of so much that they can't maintain the pace long enough to reach their weight loss goal, or they make it to their ideal weight and then think that it's okay to go back to the way they used to eat...and put the weight right back on, and then some.

Healthy eating is a long-term lifestyle change that, first and foremost, is meant to keep you healthy. The weight loss is just a bonus, a side effect.

Anyone who has ever run a marathon (I have - there I am, Vancouver Marathon 1998!) knows that you don't just suddenly start running 26.2 miles right off the bat. You have to train. A lot. You have to start small, and slowly work your way up. The same holds true with healthy eating. Make one small change at a time, and build up. For example, you don't have to completely cut out carbs from your diet; but if you're eating french fries every day, start by only treating yourself to french fries once a week. Then work from there.

Another thing about marathons: they are as much mental as they are physical. Changing habits, such as with healthy eating, are much the same. You are probably used to grabbing those fries every day; it's become a habit. But also, your body became used to having those fries every day, and it's become a craving. Or, to put it another way -- how many times have you said "I don't have the willpower" or simply "I can't do it" (I can't even begin to count mine)? Overcoming those doubts has to happen first, before you can even begin to work toward those 26-plus miles, or toward that healthy lifestyle. I truly believe that I was mentally ready to begin this journey, and that is why it is working so well for me now.

I figure if I can run a marathon, I can do this. And every day, I need to reaffirm this commitment to myself, because I plan to be in it for the long haul.

Eleanor Roosevelt once said: "You must do the things you think you cannot do." She also said: "Happiness is not a goal; it is a by-product."

I'm really starting to believe her.

Twenty-Five Random Notes About Me

I'm going to cheat a little today and post something I had already posted on Facebook (so anyone who has already seen it, please forgive me!)... but I thought it appropriate for this blog because it was not only an exercise in self-reflection, but also a challenge to reach out beyond myself and share. It's also feeding my growing need to connect with other people, and that is generally a two-way street so I'd better start opening up.

So without further ado, here are 25 random notes about me:

1. When it comes to making friends, it takes me a while to warm up and feel comfortable enough to open up.
2. I have an extremely hard time asking for help, even if I desperately need it.
3. I snap backwards...can't do it any other way.
4. I am a recovering perfectionist...took me a long time to admit that it's okay not to be perfect, and that things are worth trying even if I won't do them well. I'm still working on that.
5. I dream of becoming a writer.
6. I am more a listener than a talker, sometimes to a fault.
7. It doesn't take much to get me motivated...just one compliment is enough to get me going.
8. I'm dying for the kind of friend who can just drop by for some wine or a beer on the front porch and chat.
9. I'm a die hard fan of Food Network and HGTV; until the baby came along, one or the other was usually on the TV at any given time. Though Caroline does enjoy Food Network, too. :)
10. I'd be a terrible debater; if I have a problem with someone, I tend to argue it out in my head to the point where the other person wins.
11. I love to cook, and to experiment with recipes; I sometimes even put on mini Food Network shows for my daughter while I'm cooking dinner. (See #9)
12. I hate confrontation, and try to avoid it at all costs.
13. I'm a big do-it-yourselfer. I can wire an outlet, sweat pipe, frame out a room, install a door, lay tile...and the list goes on.
14. My mind is wired for organization. I love trying to figure out the best way to organize things, and I love flipping through catalogs of organizing "tools."
15. I love to read, but haven't had much time for it lately.
16. I've never smoked, never wanted to, never will...and it really grosses me out. I'm sure it's at least partly connected to a childhood of smoke-filled car rides and cleaning dirty ashtrays. YUCK.
17. I am a big-time procrastinator, and thrive on it...I was one of those kids in school who pulled an all-nighter to write that paper the night before it was due. And got an A.
18. I've always wanted to learn to play the piano. Or the guitar. But I CAN play the flute and the oboe.
19. I ran a marathon once, and would like to be able to do it again.
20. I have a fantasy of someday having the wherewithal to summer with the family in the south of France, or Tuscany, or Santorini...immerse myself in the people and culture, and just WRITE.
21. I played softball, volleyball and basketball in middle school, but dumped them all in high school to join the theater group. No regrets...I was a painfully shy child, and theater is what helped me come out of my shell.
22. As much as I wish it didn't, it matters what people think of me.
23. Growing up, my family was very reserved, and I still have a hard time expressing my feelings and showing affection. It's getting better, and with Caroline it is really easy, but when it comes to other people it takes a conscious effort.
24. I am highly critical of myself (can you tell?).
25. I am named after the actress Stephanie Powers, because of a pact made between my mom and aunt. I was originally going to be named Jennifer Rebecca...until auntie reminded my mom of that pact. I'm actually thankful for that -- there were a TON of Jennifers in my classes growing up!

Into the Belly of the Beast...and Lived to Tell the Tale

Tonight, I stared straight into the face of some of my worst cravings...and laughed.

Ha, ha, ha, cravings, I said. You won't get the best of me!

I must say, I am quite proud of myself. And in a way I know this post will seem kind of like bragging -- and I admit that well, it sort of is -- but I want it also to serve as a lesson for everyone that if you put your mind so something, and if you are really, really committed to it, then you CAN do it. I have been among the worst of sinners, and I have been saved. And so can you.

Tonight, I went for a much-needed "moms' night out" with some women in my Hip Mamas Meetup Group -- to Bacari Grill, an Italian bistro. (Excuse me, waiter... there are carbs all over my menu!) I don't think there could have been a worse place for me under my current eating plan, unless I had gone straight to Cold Stone Creamery for a Love It sized Chocolate Caramel Heaven in a waffle cone dish. Dipped in chocolate.

Despite the fact that there was more bread on the table than four of us could possibly eat even if we were carb-loading for a marathon, I did not partake. Instead, I helped myself to some grilled vegetables, hummus and olives from the antipasto plate -- which were delicious, and very satisfying. I ordered the peppercorn crusted tuna on soba noodles, and while I ate the entire piece of fish (again, delish!) I took only a portion of the soba more fitting of a serving size. Although the woman next to me had the chocolate lava cake for dessert, I ordered a lovely, hot cup of coffee and was very happy with that. In fact, the decadent desserts actually looked a little overwhelming to me (I think that having gone without sweets for even just three weeks, these kinds of things may actually be too sweet for me). I even had a glass of wine, between sips of which I drank water.

The best thing is, I didn't feel deprived at all. The biggest challenge was finding and making the right choices, and at the same time choosing my battles and accepting what compromises had to be made. Alas, they did not have skim milk and I can NOT drink my coffee black, so I decided that it was not a big deal. I used the full fat milk. (See, I'm not a complete angel!)

And as I have pointed out in previous entries, I don't have that heavy, gurgling, sluggish, stomach-achy feeling that I might have had I gone all out on this meal. I know that I probably could have even had a forkful of one of those decadent desserts and that would have been just fine. But I certainly didn't need to go hog-wild in order to feel happy and satiated, that is for sure.

Ha-ha, Temptation -- take THAT!

I Want a Jumperoo!

As I've been sitting here, lamenting the fact that I have not yet been able to get my body in motion as part of my new, healthy lifestyle, I noticed my daughter in her Jumperoo, bouncing herself into a state of laughing and babbling glee. Oh, how well she is going to nap this afternoon!

Then I realized that I have been going about this whole exercise thing all wrong. I keep thinking of exercise as a regulated, regimented thing that I have to drag my butt out of bed to do, involving some kind of video or TV program, or a trip to the gym. Clearly, that has not been working for me.

Looking at Caroline jumping away, I can't help but think how fun it might be to have one of those Jumperoos, adult-sized, for myself. Of course I'd look pretty ridiculous -- and where the heck would I put it? -- but the heart of what I am thinking isn't all that crazy. Remember how much fun it was to just play? A game of tag, jumping rope, hopscotch, or even just spinning around until you got dizzy and fell down -- these were a BLAST, and we didn't have an inkling that we were actually getting exercise. I think that is the best possible approach to exercise.

Now, I haven't been completely inactive: for a few weeks now, I have been playing a weekly game of basketball with some friends at the local middle school. It has been enormously fun, despite the fact that my lungs are burning from about ten minutes in... and, go figure, I've gotten an hour of heavy exercise in each week without blinking an eye. I look forward to it every week.

I do realize that there will probably be some forms of exercise that are necessary and might not be entirely enjoyable, but with more fun-based activities as the core of my routine (oops, there's that word again) it could be far more tolerable.

Changes

It's funny, I used to think that I was a "fly by the seat of my pants" kind of gal. I used to pride myself on it. It took me until the ripe age of 35 to realize that I am anything but. I like structure; I like having a plan, a routine; in fact, I thrive on that. This can work well, to a point. If taken too much to the extreme, I've found, my routine can turn into a rut.

Whatever the reason, I realize that I have spent a very long time fighting change. I make countless lists: projects that need to get done, bills to be paid, schedules for chores, menus, grocery lists, you name it. I am obsessive about our finances, creating and recreating our budget into infinity; admittedly, I used to check our bank account balance several times a day. I have spent a huge amount of time in the pursuit of control... and I tend to freak out when something happens to upset the delicate illusion of said control that I have created for myself.

So, I entered into this new way of eating, this healthy lifestyle, in much the same way I have approached virtually every other area of my life: with a plan. And a set of rules that I created for myself that was above and beyond what was already laid out for me. In some ways, the plan has worked; it got me this far. But in other ways, it has backfired miserably. For the past few days, although I have not strayed from the Beach, I have felt largely demotivated. Not all that interested in the eating plan I've been working so hard on. Like I was walking on a treadmill, going nowhere. In a rut.

Note that a lot of what I have said so far has been "I" have done this, "I" have done that... for "myself." In all of my hard work to create a routine, to maintain control, to be perfect (oh, a whole other can of worms, which I will expand on another time), I have succeeded in isolating myself. I have become an island. This, incidentally, is not the first time this observation has been made; it has appeared on more than one report card and at least a couple of (ahem) work performance reviews. But it is probably the first time I've admitted it to more than just myself and Dave.

But slowly, over the past few days, I have been receiving more and more response to this blog -- all very positive -- and I have to say that it has touched me, and helped me to realize that there has been something very big missing from my approach: sharing -- truly sharing -- my experience with others, and accepting their support and feedback. It really is amazing how energizing, how reinvigorating, that can be. I have for so long avoided reaching out, I suppose because the more people I involve in my life the less "control" I have over it (yes, I realize how ridiculous that probably sounds), but it's very clear to me now how much I've been missing out.

I don't know, maybe somewhere inside there IS a "fly by the seat of my pants" personality fighting to get out. That could explain why a routine that for a time was feeling right would come to a point where it felt so wrong. And maybe, after nearly six months with an infant in the house, the concept of chaos has become less frightening.

But I do know that allowing others into my life to experience the changes with me has turned out to be far less scary than I thought.

I Stripped My Way Through College

Well, no, I didn't...but I got your attention now, didn't I? Actually, I was in the city yesterday and happened to notice this guy walking along the sidewalk with a big thought cloud over his head that said "I stripped my way through college." No joke, it's true -- undoubtedly part of some very interesting ad campaign (it was a cut-out of a thought cloud mounted to a post that was strapped to the guy's chest), though by the time I could see the flip side of the thought cloud I couldn't make out the name of the company or campaign.

My first thought was Wow, I WISH I'd had the body to strip my way through college. Then I thought that actually, what I really wished was that I had the body image to be able to do that. Then I saw another guy with a thought cloud over his head that said: "I think that I am ugly." That really got me thinking... body image is such an interesting thing. There are a lot of things about my body that I am not happy with; I can think of ten things easy, right off the top of my head. But Dave, my husband, will look at me like I've got two heads if I mention any of them: "What do you mean? I think you look great." (Of course, one might say he is playing exactly the right card when faced with such a loaded comment.)

My point, though, is that body image is such a subjective thing. Why is it that when we look at ourselves, it is like looking into a fun house mirror? The image is completely distorted, and nothing like what the person standing next to us sees when he or she looks at us. And why, I wonder, does that body image have to be so closely tied to weight, or to fitting into size xyz pants? Distorted body image is what drives so many of us to crash diet, imbibe all sorts of "miracle" weight-loss concoctions, and at its worst is at the heart of depression, anorexia, bulimia and a host of other disorders. None of which is healthy.

Now, I can't change everyone's opinion of their own bodies, or how they choose to deal with it... but I can change my own. For my own sake, and for that of my daughter. More than the weight, more than fitting into those size 6 (or, dare I say it, size 4?) jeans, more than even eliminating the spare tire around my belly or the jiggle in my arms, I want to learn to feel as confident in my body as I imagine a stripper might. And I want to feel that way regardless of whether I "fix" any of the things I currently see "wrong" with my body. I want to feel that way because I am healthy, and active, and strong, and content. To do this, it's going to take more than simply changing my eating habits and exercising. It's going to take some real introspection, and a lot of mental work.

So for me, "Walking the Beach" is taking on more meaning than I originally thought. While I will continue to muse about my food choices and building healthy habits, I see it also becoming a journey of self-discovery that I didn't exactly anticipate. I am excited to see where it will take me!

Making Lemonade

We all know the saying, "When life hands you lemons, make lemonade." Well, it turns out that the same holds true in cooking.

Over the weekend, I had decided to try a recipe for a tomato and roasted red pepper soup. I love tomato soup, it's cold outside, and virtually nothing in a can is legal on the Beach. So I made the recipe, and Dave and I had it for lunch the same day. Not good. The texture was all off, it was a bit tart, and not at all creamy like tomato soup should be. I was sorely disappointed. I put the leftovers in the fridge, hoping beyond hope that something magical would happen and that pumpkin would turn into a carriage... or something like that. But I'm mixing my metaphors.

Fast forward to today. Caroline and I came home late from a play date and some grocery shopping, and I was in need of a really quick and easy -- and yes, healthy -- meal for dinner. I had chicken defrosted and ready in the fridge, I'd brought home some whole wheat pasta from the grocery store (legal now that I'm in Phase 2)...but what else? Open the fridge, and what is sitting right in front of me but the container of "soup" just begging for a second chance. This time, however, its role would not be soup, but... sauce. I grilled up the chicken in a pan, mixed some grated romano and parmesan cheeses into the sauce, and poured it in. Some low fat mozzerella on top, and voila: chicken parmesan with a roasted red pepper twist.

Let me tell you, that was some damn good lemonade.

My Opponent, the Stress Monster

Wow. Today, the Stress Monster blindsided me and ran me over like a Mack truck. I simply could not get ahead of it, no matter how hard I tried. The funny thing is, I spent most of yesterday working my butt off to get laundry done, the house straightened, meals pre-cooked and veggies washed and prepped... just so that I would feel prepared going into today. And somehow, it completely backfired. I was overwhelmed from the minute I woke up, and only now -- at eleven o'clock at night -- do I finally feel it has relatively eased up.

I'm not sure what exactly caused it... Did I burn myself out yesterday, trying to get ahead? Is it hormonal (yes, turns out it's "that time of the month")? Was it dehydration, because I didn't drink nearly as much water yesterday as I had gotten into the habit of drinking? Or maybe it was a manifestation of anxiety over a play date I had planned for this afternoon, with several women I've never met before? It could be a combination of all of these things.

Whatever the cause, I decided to take control over the things that I have the power to control: drink that water, and ease into the next phase of the program by adding whole grains and fruits back into my diet. Maybe the stress was a sign from my body that it is ready to move on. My cravings are well under control (I got through today's play date without so much as salivating over the buffet of sweet treats at my fingertips...heck, I even brought the Munchkins and I didn't eat one); now I want to be sure that I am not depriving my body of too much, for too long.

The other thing I need to do: get exercise. I need to get moving. I need to find a way to work it into my already crazy schedule, or I may go insane. If there are two things the Stress Monster hates, it's healthy eating and exercise. I've focused a great deal of time and energy on one, and have not been working the other equally. No wonder I was blindsided. If I don't keep both gloves up, I get smacked in the head.

Phase I, Day 11

B: 2 poached eggs on 1 pc Canadian bacon & 1 Morningstar sausage patty w/mock hollandaise, 6oz V8, coffee

S: sliced peppers w/hummus, 1C ff milk

L: tomato & roasted red pepper soup, leftover slices of Mediterranean Chicken

S: 1 wedge Laughing Cow Light (garlic & herb) on a celery stick

D: leftover Tofu Alfredo w/Shrimp over butternut squash, caffeine-free diet coke

S: 1 Magical Peanut Butter Cookie, 1C ff milk

Water: 5 glasses (ugh)
Exercise: None.

Eating on the Run: A Lesson in Preparedness

Wow, I can't believe that I've only got four more days to go in Phase I! By now, I've really got a handle on the carbs... cravings have for the most part been nonexistent. Today, despite the fact that it was snowing, Dave and I ventured out to the mall with the baby...and ultimately spent over FOUR HOURS there. I had not expected to be out nearly that long, and had eaten my first snack right before heading out the door. Two hours later, were were only halfway done with what we had planned to accomplish, and all of us were hungry. So, off to the dreaded *food court* we went. I ended up with a salad from Subway, which turned out to be really good - and I was even able to get packets of oil and vinegar on the side, which helped tremendously! I thoroughly enjoyed the salad, the entire time eating in the shadow of McDonald's, Taco Bell, Chik Fil A, Nathans, and some really greasy "Japanese" place (since when is Bourbon Chicken a Japanese dish?). I'm very proud of myself! Even Dave opted for a Subway sandwich, instead of his usual mall choice: that Japanese Bourbon Chicken. :)

While I thought I was prepared by bringing a bottle of water with me, I now know that I really should always keep some snacks handy to throw in my bag, as well. You never know when you might find yourself out of the house far longer than you had planned!

Phase I, Day 10

B: 2 poached eggs, 2 pieces Canadian bacon topped w/mock hollandaise, 6oz V8, coffee

S: ½C Greek yogurt w/½T natural peanut butter & 1 Splenda

L: Subway salad w/turkey breast, lettuce, green peppers, red onion, jalapeno & tomato, topped w/2T olive/canola & red vinegar, diet coke

S: lf string cheese

D: Mediterranean Chicken Tacos (in bibb lettuce) w/red cabbage, roasted red peppers, grilled red onions, and dollop of "sauce" (Greek yogurt, red peppers, cucumber, garlic, lemon zest, cumin), caffeine-free diet coke

S: 1 Magical Peanut Butter Cookie, 1C ff milk

The Joy of Soy!

I would venture to say that Dave and I are fairly progressive when it comes to soy. We drink soy milk (and when I say "we" I really mean "Dave"). I cook with soy milk. We eat soybeans (we prefer to call them edamame...we're crazy like that). We even eat miso soup, complete with the little chunks of tofu floating in it (okay, it took me a few years to actually eat those little chunks of tofu, but I actually kinda like them).

We had not, until now, experimented with actual tofu. You know, the packaged block of white stuff you can find in the refrigerated produce area in the supermarket. It really intimidated me! But tonight, I had a recipe for Tofu Alfredo Sauce, which called for "silken" tofu in place of cream.

Oh. My. God. First of all, it couldn't have been easier to make. Second, it tasted just like the artery-clogging alfredo sauce that (in a past life) I would have been dunking my unlimited breadsticks in at Olive Garden. I had it with shrimp over butternut squash -- it was delicious, filling, and seemed absolutely sinful. I really felt like I had cheated! But I only ingested about 400 calories and 15 grams of fat (NO saturated fat) in that entire meal. I don't even want to think about what the real thing would have cost me.

And that, to me, is the joy of soy.