A Re-Hash That is Still Relevant

Regularly scheduled Blogs will return soon. I apologize for the interruption.

Meanwhile, since I can't escape it, here is an old blog entry I wrote elsewhere a couple of years ago:

I hate this day. It's a day filled with "tributes" and "memorials" and endless rehashing of that devastating day in 2001. I remember that day all too well, it's too hard to have to watch it all over again.

I was fortunate that I worked in midtown and didn't have to deal with the terror and panic of being right down there and I was fortunate that I lost no one close to me.

But I do remember. I remember coming out of a meeting to find that we all had messages from members of our families. I remember our receptionist telling us that a plane had hit the World Trade Center. I remember trying to call back my sister and brother and being unable to get a line out. I remember watching on a small TV in my boss's office as the second tower was hit. And watching the towers fall. I remember finally getting through to my brother (who worked for the phone company). I remember the fear when he asked if I had heard from Suzie (our youngest sister) who had left early that morning to head into the city on her route as a record label rep (which included stores in the mall in the WTC).

I remember being thankful for the internet so I could keep in touch via instant messaging and email, with my family when none of the phones or cell phones would work. I remember the intense relief when Suzie finally e-mailed me to let me know she hadn't been down there, but was now stuck out on Long Island when they closed all the bridges and tunnels. I remember being touched by all the emails from friends in different parts of the country, asking if I was okay.

I remember the uncertainty leaving the office around noon wondering if I would be able to get home again (to New Jersey). Then being overwhelmed when I walked out to 5th Avenue and looked south. The huge plume of smoke and dust made my knees buckle. I remember walking across Manhattan to the river and passing groups of people standing in the middle of deserted roads looking south, some crying, most just standing there in shock. I remember waiting in line almost 2 hours to get on a ferry back across the river, with people covered in dust and dirt and in shock. I remember how nice and polite everyone standing single file on that line was.

I remember finally making it home and re-watching everything on TV and being in tears. I remember getting up the next morning and taking my sister's dogs (I was dogsitting because her apartment was supposed to have an exterminator come in on Tuesday) for a walk down to the river front smelling the acrid smoke and dust that the wind was now carrying across to us. And I called my boss to tell him I would not come into the city that day.

I remember going back into the city on Thursday and being devastated all over again by all the makeshift memorials that had popped up in Bryant Park. All the missing posters were overwhelming. I remember what was once a 30 minute commute by bus becoming a 2 1/2 hour commute for weeks.

I remember not knowing what to say to a young woman who worked for a client, who had suffered a miscarriage in April, lost her husband on 9/11 and found out she was pregnant again two weeks after that day.

I remember it was over a year before I could bring myself to set foot in that area of Manhattan. I remember losing it in St. Paul's Chapel and having to leave.

Four years later, I remember accompanying a friend from out of town to Ground Zero and once again losing it in St. Paul's and having to leave.

And I remember being on the crosstown bus this morning during the moment of silence and seeing all the construction workers gathered silently holding American flags and having to put on my sunglasses so people wouldn't see me welling up.

I remember. I don't need the endless reminders.

Day 52: Sore Sides and Sweaty Hair

Ahhhhhh... I just got back from tonight's exercise: walking. I did my regular 3+ mile loop. It keeps me close to the river and there is a nice breeze you get off the water to help keep me cool on this extra warm night. It seems I've also missed my strolls around town. I haven't reached the point of getting a "runner's high" yet. But this exercising stuff is really starting to grow on me I think.

It's not pretty for sure. When I get done with a hike or yoga class or one of my Hoboken walks, I'm usually, quite literally dripping with sweat. My hair is soaked. My shirt is soaked. Even my underwear is damp. And in the case of a hike, my hat and shorts are pretty wet as well. My face is flushed, my mascara is running, (if it's a weeknight). And sometimes, some of my muscles and joints continue to pay the price the following day. I realized when I got back from work and walking, that even though it seemed okay slipping back into my yoga routine, my sides are paying the price today. Jody had us doing a lot of twisting poses and the poor muscles along my sides got quite the workout. Any time I turned, or walked quickly, or got up from a chair, the muscles in my sides made their presence known. What's the old saying, "No Pain, No Gain"? My right knee is still a bit stiff and sore from the lack of support I had been giving it, while favoring my left knee. I'm hoping that loosens up soon.

But on the other hand, when I finish whichever exercise I've chosen for the day, I have a general sense of satisfaction. My lungs feel more open. My muscles are warm and loose. And especially in the case of yoga, I feel calmer and more centered. And as sore as they are, I'm also getting my sides back. One of the benefits of all the hiking I did that one year was that my sides tightened up and became a smooth curve making my hourglass shape more of an hourglass and less of a partially squeezed tube of cookie dough. I noticed it this evening as I was walking up the hill at Stevens Tech and I put my hands on my waist as I normally do. The smooth curves are definitely returning.

Perhaps once I get fully back in the swing after my lost weekend, I'll reach the point of the runner's high and it will be less of a chore to drag my ass off the couch and into activity. DHPs and other exercise freaks (and I'm at the point, where freaks is still the right word) always talk about how they look forward to their exercise time. How their day isn't complete unless they've been able to do their regular exercise routine. Umm... okay... when does that kick in exactly? Because I'm looking forward to that moment. That moment in time when surfing the internet or curling up and watching "Scarecrow & Mrs. King" is less appealing than making myself sweaty and sore. I'm not sure I believe that day will ever come, particularly in the case of "Scarecrow & Mrs. King."

I'm running a little behind with the posting of the blogs I know. I'm hoping to catch up today. But thanks all for sticking with me!

Day 51: What If?

Today we'll start off with a couple of pictures. The first is the embarkation picture from my recent Victory Cruise. Or as I like to call it, proof that I got Scott to set foot on a cruise ship. I just wish I had thought to take a picture of him in the piano bar, because I'm not sure anyone would believe that.

The second picture is of me and My Brian, from his visit here last week. I do believe we are both sober in this picture, getting ready to go out to the Museum of Modern Art (MOMA). We did actually do more than drink while he was here. In addition to MOMA, we took a trip down to Red Bank, NJ to visit Jay & Silent Bob's Secret Stash. Brian is an avid comic book reader and a big Kevin Smith fan so he's always wanted to check it out. We also went to Sweet Caroline's Dueling Piano Bar his first night, which led to a lot of drinking. And we went to the Billy Joel "Penultimate Play at Shea" on Wednesday night. So we started and ended our time together with music. Which seems fitting. Perhaps a little more fitting than starting and ending our time together with tequila.

I went to yoga class tonight for the first time in a little over two weeks. I was prepared to have a hard time, to not be able to hold the poses or get into many of them. But, it wasn't as difficult as I thought. I'm not saying I was able to do it quickly or perfectly, but I was stretchier than I imagined. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that the air conditioning was off at the the studio (Hey man, I didn't sign on for Bikram yoga!) So my muscles were already nice and warm. Perhaps it was because my expectations were low so what I could do surprised me.

At the beginning of class, Jody told us about a seminar she attended over the weekend called "Matrix Energetics". It's all about energy and it's uses in healing, psychologically and physically. Pretty interesting stuff. Now I'm not some hippie-dippy kind of person, but I do believe in energy work and I've felt the energy that flows from us and between us and others. I think next time this guy does a seminar in the area I might try and go. The possibilities are fascinating. And of course it is the possibilities that seem to be out of reach because we've been taught all our lives that there are limits to everything. It's hard to change beliefs that have been instilled in you since childhood.

That was one of the things that Jody kept talking about. Even when we do accept beliefs outside of the norm, it's hard to follow them when everyone else is preaching the opposite. The two words that Jody said over and over again was "What if". What if something that you believed couldn't change suddenly did, how would that feel? And she made a point about feeling rather than thinking because feeling is so much stronger. She got me thinking while I was going through my poses. What if I could actually lose this weight? What if my knees didn't get stiff and sore? What if I finally figured out what I want to be when I grow up? A lot of what if's, but probably the three biggest things on my mind. Because I was in that mind set, I thought about the weight loss what if. And honestly the first feeling that popped up was fear. I've been overweight for so long, I feel like it is part of what defines me as me. So who am I going to be if I become a thin person? Will it change my personality? How will it change the way people look at me and respond to me and perceive me? I think I have to lose that fear of losing myself in order to let go of the weight. That's something to work on in my yoga class and my quiet moments I think. It sounds weird to be afraid of losing weight, but I think that really is an issue.

Enough with contemplating my navel...

When I got out of yoga class tonight I felt really good. It was nice to be back and moving and focused. It was also nice to realize that I actually have adopted some real changes in my eating habits. That has always been a big struggle. I've kicked the junk and sugar, now I just need to get my portions back under control. I've started bringing my lunch to work again. First off, it saves me a lot of money. But secondly, it also makes it easier to control the portions since I pack it when I'm not hungry.

Now, if I can just avoid tequila shots and 14 day lost weekends, I should be back on track soon.

Cheerios!

Days 49&50: Wrong Way Laura

When I got up Saturday morning, it took me a while to get the gumption up to go out and hike. It was going to be an incredibly hot day. I hadn't hiked in 2 weeks, I really sort of wanted to just sleep in. But, I had to get back on track.

I chose an relatively simple hike. It lists as a 4 mile moderate loop on High Mountain in Wayne, NJ. But once again, because of some trail re-routing it is a little longer now, almost 4 and 1/2 miles. Still not bad and there is only one serious up. Well, at least if you do the hike as written and don't take a wrong turn right off the bat...

I should have known it was going to be one of those days. Once I got myself together to head out, Scott asked if I would drop him at the post office since it was so hot out. We got in the car and I started to make a turn, the wrong way on a one way street. I've lived here for 17 years, how could I mess that up? I caught myself and corrected it, and laughed it off saying, "Well, that doesn't bode well for my hike today!" If only I knew then...

I knew generally where I was going and I had the hike directions, so I was halfway to Route 80 before I realized that the hike directions did not include how to get there from Route 80. I pulled over and pulled out a couple of maps, alas, they did not have details of the area, but I got a decent sense of which way to go and was relying on memory to get me the rest of the way there. I knew from 80 I had to get on Rt 23 North. But after that getting over to 504 was going to be luck of the draw. I passed the exit for Alps Road (go ahead and snicker Ed) even though it sounded familiar and headed up to Packanack Road because that also sounded familiar. I cruised through a lovely residential area and realized that while I wasn't on the right road, I was heading in the general direction. I eventually found Ratzer Road which also sounded familiar and turned onto it in the general direction I thought I needed to go. Soon I was at Alps Road again with a sign directing me to Rt. 504. Oops, well, I only went a little way out of my way.

Once I hit 504 I was on the hike directions. I cruised up College Road, but a lot had changed and they didn't have Parking Lot signs like they used to. I also noticed a new lot specifically for High Mountain Park. So I drove right past Parking Lot #6, realized my mistake and had to turn around. When I came back, I decided to park in the new lot, since it wasn't that far from Lot #6. Then I got out of the car to see where the trail started. I knew that the Red Trail actually started back up the road a bit, but I saw an unmarked trail directly ahead an thought may the re-routing had come over this way, or at worst the unmarked trail would meet up with the red trail. Yeah, not so much. I broke my cardinal rule of hiking "Never start down a hill until you are sure of the path, in order to avoid unnecessary ups." So I added an extra half mile and an unnecessary up to the hike and I was already sweating like George W. Bush on Jeopardy.

When I finally did get on the right trail I was fine. The paths on this trail are wide and well used by mountain bikers and atvs and college students from nearby William Paterson University looking for a place to hang out and party. It only has one serious up that takes you to the "summit of the highest mountain in view of the ocean on the east coast (south of Maine), with outstanding views." The views would have been very nice if we hadn't had so much rain and the trees weren't all lush and green. Still the summit was very pretty, sort of a meadow with wild blackberry and blueberry bushes, long grasses and lots of crickets.

I didn't encounter another soul on the trail for the longest time. Then my first contact was with a deer that crashed through some brush below me a little. This was the third deer in as many hikes for me, which is a little surprising. I usually don't see many and certainly not later in the day. Which suggests that the deer population has exploded again and they will have a deer hunt in the next few months. This one was a pretty doe and she stood an looked at me for a bit as if trying to figure out what kind of nut case I was for being out there in the heat and humidity. Well, at least I wasn't the one wearing a fur coat! I tried getting a picture but I didn't dare try and move any closer, deer are very skittish. So see if you can spot the deer in the photo below (I'll give you a hint, it ain't called a white tailed deer for nothing):
On the way down the mountain, I caught up with an older couple slowly making their way down the steep part of the trail. They were fairly prepared, appropriate footwear, backpacks with water and hiking poles (really helpful on steep rocky trails). But alas, no map or directions only an idea of where they were going, which they double checked with me. I headed off ahead of them but didn't let myself get too far ahead because there were a couple of less obvious turns. I hung back just long enough to make sure they made them. When we got on the final leg of the trail though, I left them behind and finished the hike.

Air conditioning in cars is a great invention.

By the time I made it back to my car, the trusty pedometer read:

4.87 miles
11446 steps
7151 aerobic steps (at least!)
509 calories burned (at least!)

I felt better about having gotten back on the trail. And even better when I finally got going in the right direction!

Well, I overcame my cowardice and got back on the scale on Sunday. My weight also went in the wrong direction, but the good news is that after my 14 day lost weekend, I only gained a little over a pound! Hooray! That's what happens when you don't eat junk I guess.

After I did the laundry, I had a really lazy Sunday. I didn't have to be entertaining or friendly or chatty, so I curled up in bed and watched old episodes of "Scarecrow and Mrs. King". Bruce Boxleitner is such a hottie! Life was so much simpler in the early 80's. We knew who the enemy was: Those silly Soviets and the communist cronies. And you could always count on Bruce Boxleitner to run out of bullets and then climb up on something and jump on the bad guys and knock them out.

Half the fun is seeing a lot of actors in their early careers: a pre-Seinfeld Michael Richards, a pre-SNL Kevin Nealon, pre-"Earth Girls are Easy" Julie Brown, very young and pre-"Married with Children" David Faustino" and not one, but two "24" presidents Dennis Haysbert and Gregory Itzin. And any number of "Sopranos" actors playing... what else... mob guys.

Well, back to work on Monday and back to yoga! I haven't been in over 2 weeks and I'm missing it!

Have a good week all!

Day 48: Getting Back on the Wagon and the Horse I Rode In On

Before I start this blog, I'd just like to answer Big Ed who asked: " Do you have any 'I was a good girl stories?'" Of course I do! But they are not nearly as entertaining! I'm a good girl in my day to day life, I just like to break out every once in a while.... And break out is what I did for these last 2 weeks. Oy!

Cruises are over, old friends have gone home. It's time to assess the damage I have wrought by misbehaving so egregiously over the last 2 weeks.

Hours of sleep lost: several
Hours of exercise lost: most of them
Quantity of alcohol consumed: excessive
Brain Cells killed: thousands (hopefully none contained important information)
Weight lost or gained: God only knows, because I'm too much of a coward to get on the scale.

Time spent with boyfriend on the cruise and with best friend having fun: priceless

Can't honestly say I regret anything I did over the last two weeks, although those tequila shots on Monday night might have been a little excessive. I had a lot of fun. I ate too much, but I didn't eat junk. I didn't exercise, but we did a lot of walking (and stumbling and staggering) around. I've already talked about the cruise, so let me 'splain a bit about My Brian, my best friend from college.

I mentioned him before. He's the original source of my thing for pianos and piano players. We met our freshman year of college in a creative writing class and we were virtually inseparable for the next four years. We were Lauraandbrian or Brianandlaura, depending on who was referring to us. He was my rock, my best friend during a time when I wasn't the most stable. If I had a bad day, I could go to him and we would just curl up together and watch reruns of "Hart to Hart" or we would go down to a practice room in his dorm and he would play piano for me, playing my favorite songs or doing silly versions of other songs to make me laugh. We watched each other navigating through the dating scene, knowing we could count of a shoulder to cry on or someone to bitch to when the relationship went south. Brian probably knows more about me than any other person in this world and he still loves me. Everybody needs one of those in their life.

Between having Brian here and talking a lot to a couple of friends having job or love problems, I've been thinking a lot about the people in my life and why they are in my life. In the past I've had some very strong gut reactions to a few people when I first met them. And I always kind of saw it as a sign that these people were supposed to be in my life for whatever reason, they had something to show me. There have been a few people like that, but these are the ones whose purposed was so clear.

I met My Brian when I needed someone to show me unconditional love and comfort and support and stability at a time in my life when I didn't have nor did I think I deserved any of those things.

I met Catherine when I needed a teacher, a guide and a friend to help me make that transition into the adult world.

I met Stephanie and I met a soul sister. Someone on with the same experiences and background and sensibilities and direction to reflect my choices back to me and help me see where I was going.

And I haven't quite figured out his purpose yet, but I had that same gut reaction when I met Ron. But I think it has to do with showing me a different direction in life.

Now, when I met the Bloggers Crew. That was a whole other thing. It had been a really long time since I'd made a new friend. That seems so much harder to do when you get older. And here I met an entire group at once! I have never in my life met a group of people who are so quick to offer love, support and encouragement to people they only know through email and meeting them all just reinforced that. And talk about a gut reaction! I think these folks came into my life to help me on this journey with weight loss and finding a new direction. It certainly wouldn't be possible with out them!

People come and go in your life, but the I think each one has a purpose, something to show you or teach you, if you are open to it.

So now, I'm getting back on the horse and back to the business of trying to lose the weight. Back to the regular blogging. And back to the hiking tomorrow! It should be a cool 94 degrees tomorrow in Jersey!

Day 43: Time Off for Bad Behaviour

I've been a bad, bad girl. But it's all good.

I seem to have taken the week off. From the blog, from exercise, but I've kept my eating on track for the most part. I didn't weigh myself when I got home from the cruise. I just didn't want to see the damage wrought. I know I didn't eat a lot at dinner, but the problem was that the buffet lines were so freakin' long on the ship that it was often easier to go grab a pastrami sandwich, or a burger and fries or pizza. So not so much with the salads.

I drank a lot of my calories, stuck mostly with gin because that gives me a clean and happy drunk. I've read that if you're going to drink alcohol, gin is one of the lower (not low,but lower) carb alcohols. I strayed from gin a little on the last night in the piano bar. Some of us in there made it our mission to get the piano man drunk. Because a drunk piano man is a funny piano man. So after watching Peter slowly nurse the beer I bought him, we decided to step it up to shots. And we let Peter call his shot. SoCo and lime.

Oy! I haven't drank Southern Comfort since my freshman year of college. With good reason. The last time I drank Southern Comfort, I don't remember much about the party the night before but I remember the morning after. I had been working on a journalism project that was due by noon the following day and then studying for a Russian test I had the next day at 9:55 am. I had finished the project and was starting the studying when a friend called and said "everyone" wanted me to come over. I hemmed and hawed a bit then gave in (pretty easily). Well everyone was half in the bag when I got there so I thought I should catch up...oh boy. Like I said, I don't remember much about the party, except that there was an excessive number of Southern Comfort and cokes. I woke up the next morning, half undressed, splayed on my bed at 10:10 am! The exam had started at 9:55. I changed clothes in a panic, ran down to the class, grabbed the test from my teacher as he gave me a strange look. Started the test about 10:20 finished it by 10:45 before anyone else, handed it in, ran to the bathroom, threw up. Then I walked over to the Journalism building, handed in my project and walked slowly back to my dorm, breathing the cold Indiana air in, hoping to clear my head. Got back to my dorm, threw up again and went back to bed. By the way, I got a B+ on the Russian exam. LOL! Talk about rewarding bad behaviour! For a long time, I kept an empty SoCo bottle around to remind myself of that awful morning.

And that was the last time I ever touched Southern Comfort. Until the last night of the Victory cruise. It's only polite to join the person you are buying shots for, so there was a group of us doing them along with Peter. We had a lot of fun in the piano bar that night, getting extremely silly along the way. Around 2:30 am we all headed up to the Lido Deck for pizza and had a good time chatting and munching. Peter and I left together and I rode the elevator with him down one floor. I remember saying good bye to Peter and getting off the elevator. And that's when the shots really kicked in. I don't remember much of anything after that. I don't remember the long walk from the very back of the ship to our room all the way at the very front. I apparently made it. Scott says that when I came to bed, I was going on and on about completely nonsensical things. I woke up the later that morning at 7:30. We had breakfast, well I had toast and some melon, and then we waited to get off the ship. I was surprised at the lack of hangover until I realized, I was still a little drunk. And I had to go straight to work from the ship. Oy!

We ran into several people from the piano bar who all asked if I was going to make it to the office. We waited for them to call our number, because even though we had our luggage, self assist was a madhouse. We finally got off the ship around 10:30. At this point we were some of the last people off the ship so we breezed through customs and hopped in a cab. I made it to the office a little before 11. I did fine until my body decided it was tired and had enough around 4 pm. The last hour was torture.

I really expected to fall back into my routine, but the past week has been busy, catching up with work and recovering from my vacation and I was less than motivated on the exercise portion of the show. Friday night was spent in a cleaning frenzy as I prepared for the arrival of one of my best friends, My Brian. He's come to visit for the better part of a week. I'm just hoping my liver can survive it. We usually have one night where we go out and just get ripped and happy and have fun. That was last night. We went to Sweet Caroline's a dueling piano bar in Times Square and had a lot of fun. And a lot to drink. Brian is the man who introduced me to tequila shots way back when and tequila always seems to make an appearance when we get together and last night was no exception. We left the bar quite happy around 2:15 am and hopped a cab back to Hoboken.

It's funny, but reading this makes it sound like I'm a total lush. I'm really not, I don't drink much in my day to day life. Occasionally some wine or a couple of drinks with dinner over the course of a normal month. But when I get on vacation or once every couple of months when I cut loose with friends, I party it up. I don't expect to be partying this hard again until my Legend cruise in September. Although there are rumors of a Sweet Caroline's happy hour in August. Hmmmm... the two words that spring to mind after that happy hour back in May... pole dance. Perhaps I better skip this happy hour...

I'm hoping to get back to more regular blogging this week. But there are no guarantees, because Brian doesn't leave until Thursday. We are going to see Billy Joel on Wednesday night at Shea Stadium.

Thanks for your patience!

And a quick PS - Thank you Joanne for the Churchill's recommendation in St. John! It was nice and not crowded with other cruisers and the food was terrific! The best meal we had all weekend.

Ooooo a blog about alcohol. Not the blog I hand in mind, but I'll save that for later.

Day 35: Sailing, takes me away

As I write this I am sitting on my balcony, in a bathrobe and sunglasses. The coastline of New Brunswick is directly ahead of us as we slowly make our way towards it. We are in the Bay of Fundy now so it’s pretty calm. There’s a low level fog along the coastline, but as it is a beautiful, cloudless, sunny day, I expect that the fog will burn off quickly. Our excursion doesn’t leave until 12:30, so we have the morning to relax and take out time getting off the ship.

It’s been a nice cruise so far. I think Scott is probably enjoying himself more than he expected to. I got him to sit in the piano bar with me for a while on the first night, he didn’t last long, but the effort was there and appreciated. Last night, we went to the production show “Living in America” and he said, “It wasn’t bad for what it what it was, high praise indeed. Then the deal was that he would go back to the cabin and nap and I would go to the piano bar for a couple of hours, then we would go to the midnight comedy show, so this was an historic evening. The first time I’ve been on a cruise ship and haven’t spent the entire evening from open to close in the piano bar. It was a struggle let me tell you. But the comedian, Happy Cole was very funny.

This may be the first cruise that I gain weight on. More due to inactivity, than the food. We’ve been pretty lazy so far, breaking my rule of only doing steps. But I suppose my saving grace is that the food has been a MAJOR disappointment. I kept raving about the food in the dining room to Scott, but alas, the quality I recall from my previous 4 Carnival Cruises just has not been there. The first night, Scott’s strip steak and those of the couple sharing our table were tough as leather. I had the sweet and sour shrimp and, while better, the shrimp was kind of mushy. Last night, was the worst though. Scott’s spaghetti carbonara was bone dry, my duck was indifferently cooked and cold, by the time I received it, I ate less than half. The prime rib that one of our companions ordered was 70% fat. However her husband enjoyed his lobster tail and shrimp. The maitre d’ chose last night to come around and ask how dinner was, and trying to be nice, we said, “Well, John enjoyed his.” He asked us what is wrong. The sad part was that while he appeared concerned, he didn’t seem all that surprised. He promised that he would make sure that the meals at least arrived hot.

I doubt it’s a coincidence that the major fall in quality coincides with Carnival’s decisions to drop the staggered seating times for the two dining rooms. Instead of 5:45, 6.8 and 8:30, there are only two seatings, 6 and 8 and I’m sure the kitchen is getting overwhelmed. Also, not coincidentally, they changed the menus recently (but not the dessert menu). I feel really badly for Scott. Plus, this is the first time I’ve really noticed lines at the Lido deck restaurant. And I’m talking really long lines that wrap around the sides.

On the plus side, the pastrami at the deli is still surprisingly good. Desserts however remain fairly indifferent.

Embarkation literally took no time at all. I was prepared of a wait, so I planned for us to arrive at the pier at noon. Figuring if the hour and a half I had heard reported was true, we would be able to go straight to our cabin when we boarded. However, we arrived at noon and we were on the ship at 12:30. Lines were short and efficient, and the embarkation staff was cheerful and friendly.

Fortunately the crew remain the biggest asset that Carnival has. They’ve been unfailingly friendly and helpful, without exception.

Oh and loving my balcony. It’s going to be hard to go back to a simple ocean view or inside when I sail alone, and I’m not sure that Scott will develop the love for cruising that I have so there will probably be many more solo cruises in my future.

And no, there hasn't been any piano riding this trip. I've enjoyed Peter Rossetti very much and we've had some interesting conversations after the bar closed, but while I've been having a tough time getting a handle on him, I do get the vibe that he's not a girl on the piano kind of entertainer. And that's okay. There's always the Bloggers' Cruise in February.

Day 31: Little Victories

I had two happy moments today, that suddenly made this whole diet and exercise thing seem worthwhile. No, I didn't have a "1" as the first digit of my weight yet. When that happens, y'all will probably hear the whoops and shouts from all the way up in Canada to all the way across the country in California and Oregon. And my friend Nanni in Puerto Rico, if you listen closely you will probably hear it too.

No, today was two smaller victories. It's hard when you're trying to lose weight to see it actually coming off. I mean you can see it in the numbers on the scale and the measuring tape. But because the changes happen so slowly it's hard to see them when you look in the mirror every day. I keep hoping that one day I'm going to wake up and look in the mirror and see a thin person there. Sometimes I wonder if I will even be able to see myself as a thin person. You get so used to thinking of yourself one way and it's hard to change the perception. And this is a lifetime of perception to change here.

Anyway, on to my happy moments. The first happened at work. I was standing by my boss's desk talking to him about some things and he remarked that you could tell that I've lost weight, he could see the changes. Awwwww... Now I've worked for this man for 17 years. He's seen my weight go from about 180 to 250 and now as it is slowly going down again. Of course his wife has him really well trained. He notices when I color or cut my hair or when I'm wearing a dress (which doesn't happen often) and will remark on it. but it was nice of him to notice the small changes that are happening too.

My second happy moment made me dance around the apartment (which I'm counting as exercise!). Before the Blogger's Cruise back in February, I bought two strapless dresses that had very structured tops (read: boning). One was purple and one was blue. They were on sale so the prices were really good. I figured I could bring them on the cruise for the formal nights. There was one small problem. I couldn't zip them up all the way. I could zip them until just above my waist but no further. This was really frustrating since they were my size. But I guess since they didn't have any "give", they just weren't going to go. Instead of returning them, I put them in my closet until the day when I could get the zippers all the way up. Well, that day did not come when I needed a dress from my friend's wedding in March. That day was today!

I'm starting to think about what I'm going to pack for my cruise and even though I haven't lost as much weight as I thought I might need to get the dresses on, just for sh*ts and giggles, I pulled the purple dress out of the closet. I asked Scott to try and zip me up and suddenly a choir of angels singing the "Hallelujah" chorus appeared in my bedroom. (Now I have a pretty big bedroom, but when you get the whole heavenly host in there too, it gets a little crowded and I'm a bit claustrophobic, so it wasn't the pleasant experience one might expect.) The zipper reached the top! It was snug but not overly tight. I could breathe. I could sit. Excited, I pulled the blue satin one out. Bingo! Same deal! Hooray!

It's these little moments that make it all seem worthwhile. It certainly made it much easier to motivate to pull on my exercise clothes, knee braces and sneakers and go walking tonight!

Tomorrow is my last day of work for the week. I haven't decide yet whether I'm going to take my laptop on the cruise. If I do, I will try and blog. But no promises. So if you don't see any updates from Thursday night on, don't abandon me completely! I'll be back on Monday!

Day 30: One Month Down...the Tale of the Tape

I seem to have managed to get through a whole month eating pretty healthy and exercising pretty regularly. Well, at least more regularly than I used to. And what do I have to show for it? This is the story by the numbers:

Weight: 204.3 (-8.3 pounds, or 3.9% loss)
BMI: 32.0 (-1.3)
Waist: 38.5" ( -1")
Hips: 44" (-1")
Bust: 44" (-1")
Thighs: 24.25" (-1")
Upper Arms: 15" (-1")

I guess that is a decent start. I bet if I put a little more effort in on the exercise front, those numbers could be better next month, but isn't it funny how life gets in the way?

So at yoga tonight she had us do a lot of twisting moves with our midsection. I remember one day in class, Jody was discussing the benefit of these twisting moves. She said that it's good release for the liver, because the liver holds what? Of course, being the smart ass I am, I said, "Alcohol?" Apparently, that was the wrong answer, but it was a few minutes before she and the class recovered enough to continue. The right answer, according to Jody, is anger. I didn't know the liver held the anger. That seems a little strange to me. I mean, why doesn't the gall bladder hold the anger? It doesn't have a whole lot of other function and you can survive just fine without it. Imagine how happy people who have had their gall bladders removed would become. It's like a two for one surgery, removing your gall bladder and your anger in fell swoop. I should think people would be clamoring to have their gall bladder taken out if that were the case.

But, no, it's the liver that holds the anger. And it does make a certain amount of sense, especially when you consider that the liver produces bile and there's that old phrase about when some gets angry and they "feel the bile rise".

Anyway, I think there might be something to it. Often, if I'm pretty focused when doing the twisting moves, at least more focused on me then everything else, I come out of class feeling like I want to cry. Tonight was a good example. I thought I was fine when I went in there. I chatted happily with my brother and some yoga buddies before hand. But after class, it had completely changed. I got ticked off at my brother for moving so slowly and laughing at my impatience when I needed to get out of there and suddenly I was just sick and tired of having to live by everyone else's schedule. And I started to wonder why I always felt everyone else's needs and feelings always were more important than mine. I carried this mood all the way home with me. I was thisclose to stopping at the grocery store for ice cream or cupcakes. I drove home instead and went inside. I still wanted to eat something horribly bad for me. But the best I could come up with was a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with sugar free preserves. I guess that's better than a whole box of Little Debbie Swiss Cake Rolls.

I think I've managed to tamp those feelings back down into my liver where they belong, to seep out occasionally during bouts of PMS. Perhaps a long weekend of drinking and carousing will send enough alcohol through my liver to kill the anger there. At the very least it should get the anger good and drunk and make it not really care for a while.

On the way home from work tomorrow night, I need to get a pedicure. It's been a few weeks. It's also part of my pre-trip ritual. That ought to make me feel better too. I love pedicures. I've been hooked since I got my first professional one about 4 years ago. Why did I ever think that I could cut my own toenails?

In two days, I'll be on a ship. Hooray!

Day 29: Abe Vigoda Lives! And the New Magic Number

We went out for diner breakfast this morning with my brother Chris and his girlfriend Karen. We always sit in the same section so we can have the same waitress, Nancy. She's our favorite waitress. We're regulars there every weekend so the staff knows us and a lot of the time they just hand us menus and we seat ourselves. Actually some of the time they just wave us through. Nancy brings our drinks over before we've barely sat down. Scott always orders the same thing, bacon and cheddar cheese omelet, french fries, rye toast with a side of bacon. Nancy doesn't even ask anymore. But she does give us the side of bacon for free. I usually change it up. This morning I had a bacon, cheddar and broccoli omelet. which I ate about half of. I got the home fries, but just picked the crunchy brown bits off and ate those. And I had one piece of wheat toast with a scraping of grape jelly. It's a comfortable routine that we've followed virtually every weekend for the past 4 years that we've been living together and and even before on several weekends when Scott would stay over.

Well today our routine paid off in spades! We spotted a real live celebrity. I was happily munching away on my breakfast and I saw an elderly gentleman in an orange shirt shuffling down the aisle towards the restrooms. I nudged Scott and said, "Hey, isn't that Abe Vigoda?" And Scott said, "Yes that is Abe Vigoda!" And I said, "I guess that means he's still alive! Wonder what he's doing at a diner in Little Falls?" Funny part was, my brother and Karen, had their backs to him to they thought we were kidding around. Then we confirmed with Nancy that it was indeed Abe Vigoda, of "Barney Miller", "Fish" and "The Godfather" fame. He's apparently looking at houses in the area. And judging by the way he examined the pastry display and the other stuff in the the counter area, he's quite the diner aficionado.

So that was my celebrity moment for the day. I've seen bigger celebrities. Heck, I've met bigger celebrities. But somehow this celebrity spotting was more sweet and satisfying. It's nice to know that he's still alive and kicking. Although, there is a website devoted to Mr. Vigoda's status: www.abevigoda.com. There is apparently a running joke in the entertainment industry about whether Abe is alive or dead since it has been erroneously reported twice(!) that he had passed on.

Of course, Hoboken can be great for spotting any actor that has ever played any type of mobster (go figure). Danny Aiello ("Broadway Danny Rose", "Moonstruck") runs a comedy night here every Thursday and he is often seen eating at Tutta Pasta, a restaurant I believe he co-owns. He can also be seen sitting in his illegally parked Jag singing opera at the top of his lungs. Joe "Joey Pants" Pantoliano (Guido the Killer Pimp from "Risky Business", Ralph Cifaretto from "The Sopranos) picked up something I dropped for me one day on the street and struck up a short conversation. And Max Cassella ("Doogie Howser" and "The Sopranos") we spotted getting off the bus on Washington Street. Ahhhhhh, the glamorous life!

So this week's magic number is..... 2

I lost two pounds this week. I managed to take off the .7 I gained and a little over a pound more. In a week where my exercise was spotty at best. Hey, I'll take it.

These next two weeks are going to be tough especially on the exercise. Thursday we leave on the Victory for the 4 day to Canada. Now, this shouldn't be so bad. Despite my reputation for boozing it up, I've never gained weight on a cruise. In fact I usually drop a couple on a 7-day. I take the stairs a lot. And my excursions are usually pretty active. But most importantly, I keep myself busy enough that I don't eat much outside for breakfast, lunch and dinner. I know that is like a sin on a cruise, but it's true. And I seem to forget that they have soft ice cream machines around the Lido deck. It also doesn't hurt that I've never been impressed with Carnival's desserts. Even the famous Chocolate Melting Cake doesn't do much for me, it's too inconsistent.

The weekend after we get back My Brian arrives. And while we will probably be running around a lot, we will also probably be drinking a lot. My Brian is the person that got me drinking tequila shots. Egads. We've had some fuzzy but memorable evenings fueled by tequila.

We'll have to see how it goes. But I can't wait to see him!

Day 28: Evading the Wolverines

After being so bad with the exercise this week, despite my promises to myself, I knew I had to do a good hike this week. However, mindful of my knees which were still a bit stiff, I wasn't sure I wanted all the ups that I had last week so I decided to do one in Palisades Interstate Park. This Park runs along the Hudson River, from just south of the George Washington Bridge all the way up through the New York State Line. In the New Jersey Section, there are two main trails. The Long Path which runs along the top of the Palisades and the Shore Path which runs along the Hudson River. Both paths are relatively level with some minor ups and downs and a few tricky stream negotiations and rock scrambles. Then there are about 4 or 5 trails that connect the two trails and these can be moderate with lots of switchbacks or more steep and strenuous. But even the moderate trails are a bitch because you are making an elevation gain of 400-500 feet in a half mile or less.

There's lots of great views over the Hudson River and several interesting ruins of old mansions which used to occupy the area, until the early 20th century.

The 6 mile loop I chose, utilized one strenuous and steep down and then a moderate up at the end. The description of the hike can be found here.

I usually start every hiking season with the loop that runs south of the Park headquarters. It is slightly easier than the one I did today, about a mile shorter too. It's a good gauge of what my body is prepared for. And I usually do it at the end of the hiking season as well to see how far I've come physically.

But today I went north. As I said, the Long Path is a relatively level path, with few challenges so I was able to keep up a pretty good pace. Nonetheless I was passed several times by DHP's. I had a pretty high DHP count for the day: 12. And that's counting the three that passed me twice only one time each. I also had a relatively high count for other hikers: 15. And only one couple that was woefully under-prepared. She was wearing flip flops. D'Oh!

Shortly after I started the hike, I was met with a side path that leads to an old bridge to a rock outcropping on the cliff. The bridge was built by John Ringling (of the Ringling Bros Circus fame), who used to own a mansion up on these cliffs. The bridge is narrow and crosses and deep ravine and has no side rails so I stared straight ahead and walked quickly across.

The views from the rocks on the other side were lovely. It was a bit hazy out though and I knew I was in for better views further up the trail, so I crossed quickly and carefully back over the old bridge and headed off up the trail.

I finally found the perfect picture to demonstrate a f*ck-it path. There was this huge tree down over the trail and a small rockfall in front of it. The original trail actual heads off to the right in the picture, and (at this point) several enterprising souls have blazed a new path around the obstacle as you can see to the left in the picture. This was actually taken from the back side.

A little further on down the trail, I hit Ruckman's Point. This is a gorgeous lookout over the Hudson and lots of very old graffiti. The oldest one I could make out was 117 years old!













Before you get to the really evil climb down the cliffs portion of this hike, the trail runs by this Rapunzel looking tower thing. This is actually a monument to the the Women's Federation. The Federation was comprised of several women's groups who fought to keep the Palisades safe from quarrying eventually convincing New York Governor Teddy Roosevelt and New Jersey Governor Foster Vorhees to establish the Palisades Interstate Park Commission and designate this area protected land. I find it kind funny that a monument to women looks a bit like a prison.


There were several hikers and DHPs taking a break in the little garden that surrounded the is monument so I took a break as well to replenish my small bottle of water and munch on a granola bar.

Then I headed off to face the pain. The strenuous down portion of the hike. The trail descends first on a series of steep stone steps built in the early twentieth century, so they are not in the best repair and then it continues down on short. steep, rocky switchbacks, more fit for a billy goat than and middle aged woman with bad knees. . The steps were so steep I was starting to get a little vertigo, I stayed well back from the edge and sidled down the steps more than I walked down them. It's only three tenths of a mile, but it feels a lot longer when your taking your time to make sure you have your footing.

It's a relief when you finally hit the Shore Path down below. This part of the hike offers a nice respite. And even better, when there is a big boulder fall off to the right of the path, the breeze that comes off the river gets cooled and bounced back at you. It's like a natural air conditioning. And believe me I needed it. I was sweating like Dick Cheney at confessional. I was pretty much soaked through at this point, the only dry area of my tank top was the bottom hem. While I enjoyed the less strenuous stroll, not having to concentrate on where I was putting my feet, made me pay attention to the fact that my feet were getting really tired and soar. But knowing I was more than half way done, kept me moving forward. I took an alternative path a little way along, that gave me a little up and went through more of a wooded area. But I knew that the pain was coming.

Soon I reached the Closter Dock Trail. This is was my up point, back to the top of the cliffs. This trail is an old cobblestone road, once used by the British Troops during the revolution, when they tried to intercept Washington on his way to Trenton. Do you know what happens to cobblestone roads after a couple hundred years? The cobblestones shift and move and upend. It's kind of a pain to walk over them. And dangerous to your ankles. This trail ascends on a a series of long switchbacks. It really takes it out of you. I find it works best to keep my head down, walk slowly and count my steps. If see how much farther it is too the top, it can get discouraging. And at this point it's only six tenths of a mile back to the parking lot. I was ready to finish.

I finally trudged my way back to the car in a little under 3 hours. My trusty pedometer read:

5.96 miles
13988 steps
626 calories burned (at least!)

Oh, and I have to mention, that while I was sore, my right knee was much happier after this hike since I gave it the same kind of support I give to my left knee. Hooray!

The next two weekends I won't be able to hike. Next weekend, I'll be walking around St. John, New Brunswick, Canada while on my Victory Cruise. And the weekend after that, my best friend, My Brian, is coming into to town from Indiana to visit. I can't wait to see him!

Cheerios!

Day 26&27: Blame it on the Blond

Oy! It's been a couple of days, I know. Sometimes time just seems to get away from me. So let me backtrack a bit...

On Thursday I went to get my hair colored. The gray was starting to overwhelm even me. And Scott, my ever supportive and loving 6'6" boyfriend, kept looking down at the top of my head and saying "Yeah, you need to get your color done." So Thursday after work I went to see Beatrix. I've been going to her for years. I first let her color my hair about 5 years ago. She hated my gray and hated my out of the box color choices as well, so a few weeks before my first cruise I said, "Okay, have your way with me." And she did. And I ended up blond. Well not really blond but there were enough blond highlights to make it seem that way, my natural hair color is a very dark brown, so it was a bit disorienting to see myself with this new color. We eventually worked out a compromise. Making the color a little darker in general and more dark in the fall and winter. But in the summer, we take it lighter. And yes, I know it's not really blond, but it feels that way to me. And it gives me a good excuse when I do something brainless. I have my "blond moments".

Afterwards I totally intended to exercise, but after I got my dinner. My friend, Princess Elaine, let me know her first grandchild, Gavin, was on the way and to spread the word to the rest of the crew. Then just as I was changing, I got the call from the very emotional bubbe that Gavin had arrived and she gave me the details to pass on. As I was sending out that email, a friend IM'd me needing to chat about some serious stuff going on with him. We ended up chatting for an hour and a half and suddenly it was 11 o'clock at night. There went the day.

Friday. Another day of intention. Scott got out of work early enough to meet me at the Port Authority so we could commute home together. We decided to stop for dinner at a restaurant in uptown Hoboken on our way home. I think the sangria was probably a bad idea, at least it had fruit in it! As we walked home I could feel the wine seeping into my muscles. I always feel alcohol in my shoulders and thighs first. By the time we got home, I told Scott I was going to lay down for a minute and sober up before I went walking. I laid down on the bed and promptly fell asleep! I woke up a few hours later, long enough to get undressed and peel the contact lenses off my eyes. Then it was back to bed and straight through until 7:30 Saturday morning. I guess I was tired.

Oops. Well, like the title of this blog suggests: The road to hell is paved with good intentions. At the rate I'm going, the devil should have a luxury suite prepared for me.

Day 25: Oooooo. Aahhhhhh. Ooohhhhh. Ouch!

I think I mentioned last week that my left shoulder was hurting. It hurt to move my arm. It hurt to put any sort of pressure on the left arm. It hurt when I moved from lying down to a sitting position. It just hurt. It was definitely a muscle pain. I tried everything to loosen it up. And finally thought maybe I should get a massage. Scott mentioned this bass player that he knew who lived here in Hoboken and was a massage therapist, Mario. So I asked Scott to get in touch with him and get his info. Two days later, I asked if he had gotten in touch with Mario. And Scott said, "I didn't know your shoulder still hurt. You haven't complained about it." Exasperated, I looked at him and replied, "That's because I'm a woman! Sheesh! We don't complain about pain!" (There's the old joke, that if men had to have the babies, humans would have died out long ago.)

He had Mario's info for me that night. In the meantime I had a woman do some Reiki energy work on the shoulder and it started to loosen up and the pain lessened. But it didn't solve the underlying problem that I carry all my stress in the my shoulders, neck and upper back. I feel like my shoulders are so tight they are up around my ears. So I gave a Mario a call.

My appointment was this evening. When I got to his apartment we chatted for a little bit about common acquaintances and then he asked me what was going on with my body and I explained to him about my shoulders, back and neck. He left the room, I got undressed and on the table and then he went to work. For a solid hour, he concentrated on those three areas, rubbing, kneading, practically beating those muscles into submission. Every time he hit a seized up spot on my back I flinched. We chatted a little during and he explained what he was seeing and how the muscles get knotted up and lose circulation so they can't loosen up. He said he's seen worse backs but I think he was just being kind. Towards the end he had me turn over onto my back and he went to work on the pectoral muscles which were also tight and therefore waging war with the back muscles over who controlled the shoulders. He ended up with some work on my neck and a scalp massage.

When I got up from the table, the tension was lessened, but still present. My shoulders at least felt like they had dropped a couple of inches and my neck felt longer. I think the tension is so firmly entrenched in my muscles that it is going to take some work to get them unknotted. I made another appointment for the 23rd and I think I'm going to hit the spa on my cruise next weekend for a massage.

I've always looked at massages as a luxury. I think I'm going to have to change that attitude for a while and view them as a necessity. I'm trying to imagine a day when I don't feel that familiar, painful tightness in my shoulders, neck and back. Right now, it's hard to see, but I know I can get there.

When I was getting dressed, I looked in the mirror and saw that my hair was really wacky from the scalp massage and the oil on his hands so I smoothed it down the best I could. When I left his building and headed home, I passed a guy sitting on a stoop and thought I saw him kind of smirk at me. And then I passed another guy who did the same thing. I thought, "What's their problem?" When I got home and really looked at myself in the mirror, I saw the flush on my body, the messy hair, and smudged mascara and suddenly realized what they were smirking at... I looked like I had just gotten laid! I started laughing. Oh well.

I didn't feel like harshing my mellow when I got home this evening, so I took the night off from exercise. I will return to exercise this evening. If my knees aren't up to walking, I think I'm going to pull out "Sweating to the Oldies". Richard Simmons is always good for a laugh.

Day 24: Well, At Least the Toilet Stopped Leaking

For the past few days every time I went in the bathroom I had to mop up a large puddle that had formed on the floor. The first time I noticed it, I was all ready to yell at Scott about not closing the shower curtain all the way when he showered or even for having terrible aim (ewwwww!). But then when I went back into the bathroom, I noticed it again and I realized that the toilet was leaking. And it was getting progressively worse. I called maintenance on Monday, but of course, they didn't come until Tuesday so I had to continue to mop up. We call things like that the price we pay for the price we pay for this apartment. I've been in this same apartment for 16 years. My former roommate was here for 10 years before that. Hoboken has rent control, which makes living here a lot more affordable than most places in Hoboken.

And that is good. Because our apartment is so full of crap we had to rent a storage unit to hold the overflow of crap. It is positively crap-tacular. I keep telling myself that I'm going to go through all this crap and start to chuck things out. Since I'm trying break old habits and start new ones, perhaps I can break my pack rat habit. I'm searching for the life metaphor here. Maybe it's not only this extra weight that is weighing me down in my life, perhaps it's all the extra crap I keep around me. Tons of old boxes. Piles of old clothes I never wear and shall we discuss the shoe issue? I have lots of old shoes filling the bottom of my closet that haven't been on my feet in years. Perhaps if I start clearing the clutter, I'll have room for new things in my life.

And more practically, maybe I'll have more room in the house to exercise. I find myself clearing little spots to make room for what I should be doing, but by the time I get it all cleared, I'm totally out of the exercise mindset. Which is probably why I prefer to exercise outdoors instead. However, my knees are still a bit stiff and sore from Saturday's hike so I decided to give them a break last night. I pulled out the exercise bike and moved it into the bedroom so I could watch TV while I rode. The exercise bike was a $50 purchase on Ebay. It's got those handles that move too so when you ride you are moving your arms as well as your legs. It also has the world's most uncomfortable seat. When Scott used to ride it, he used to put a pillow on the seat. I stuck in a DVD of "Scarecrow and Mrs. King" (I'm in the middle of rewatching the entire run of the series. Bruce Boxleitner is soooo dreamy.) And I hopped on the bike. Wow, there was just no focusing. I'd watch the TV a bit, then I'd hop of the bike for a sec to move something or get some water. It's even worse than the treadmill. At least on the treadmill, I can keep moving for at least 30 minutes at a decent pace before I get bored. On the bike, I really struggled to get through a half hearted 30 minutes, which took more like 45 with all the distractions. I'm not sure I'll be hitting the bike again. I guess it's time to sell it on Ebay.

I have a real bike. It's in my storage unit. I plan on pulling it out of storage. I think, much like I find it easier to walk several miles outside, I will find it easier to ride outside as well. At least I'll feel like I'm getting somewhere. Also, I can start riding it to the grocery store or Target or on other errands I need to run. Maybe explore all the roads in Hoboken and some in Jersey City and Weehawken (although Weehawken may have to come later because it involves a couple of hills...) It will save on gas too.

See what I mean about good intentions?

Well tomorrow is my massage. I can't wait. I haven't had a massage since I was on the Blogger's Cruise back in January. Then it was heavenly. My massage therapist on the ship took my shoulders and neck as her own personal challenge. And she did a pretty good job.

I should be pretty relaxed and mellow tomorrow night.

Cheerios.

Day 23: "Bend and Stretch

Reach for the stars. Here comes Jupiter. There goes Mars. Bend and Stretch. Reach for the sky. Stand on tip-toes, oh so high." How many people remember that? It's from the old kiddie show "Romper Room". For some reason after all these years that little ditty still resides in the depths of my brain, along with a healthy chunk of lyrics from "Kids Are People Too" from Wonderama, any number of songs from Sesame Street, the Preamble to the Constitution and the address for writing to the show Zoom. "Write Zoom! Z, double O, M! Box 350, Boston, Mass, 0-2-1-3-4. Send it to Zoom!" There is all this useless trivia cluttering up my mind. And of course, if I learn something new, it's not a piece of useless trivia that gets pushed out, it usually some other more useful piece of information. I always said if I could learn to use my powers for good instead of evil, I could cure cancer.

The Romper Room song bubbled up into my consciousness as I was in yoga tonight. I was really enjoying the stretching aspect of class tonight, last week I felt completely bunched up and hunched over. Everything was tight like it was ready to burst apart at any moment. And my mood was kind of the same way. I'm not sure if the mood was the result of the physical or the physical was the result of the mood. But I'm just happy that the mood is passing.

So I really concentrated on the stretch tonight and it felt good.

There was one other thing I realized during yoga tonight. Jody had us do a few balance poses tonight. Poses where we had to balance on one foot. These have never been my forte. I always blame my weak ankles. As I rushed to get into each pose, I would lose my balance and fall over as soon as I lifted my other foot off the floor. Finally, I just stopped for a moment. I slowed down and concentrated on my one foot on the floor. I imagined it rooted to the floor. I concentrated on making that as strong and stable as possible. Then I lifted the other foot almost unconsciously, as if I was trying to ignore the fact that I was only on one foot. And you know what? It worked. I was able to get into the pose and hold it. There was a little wiggling and balance adjustments, but there I was on one foot.

All I really had to do was slow down. I need to take the time to establish that one foot as my base and really focus on making it as strong as possible before I moved forward. And once I did that, the other foot was able to go where it was supposed to. Gee, you think that maybe there is a life lesson in there?

Living and working in the New York City area, everything is rush, rush, rush. I walk fast to get where I need to be. I even catch my reflection in windows from time to time and see myself leaning forward as I walk as if that will get me there quicker. At work I program as fast as my little fingers can type so I can get more programs finished. Then after work, I rush to the Port Authority to get on a bus and get home as quickly as possible so I can attend to the personal things I need to do. And I rush through those. I rush through my meals. I rush through my exercise. I rush through this blog. And as a result? My shoulders and neck are so tight they feel like they are going to snap sometimes. And I gained .7 pounds.

So I think I need to slow down. I need to take a minute and really concentrate on making that one foot a solid base and maybe along with the other foot, my life will be able to go where it needs to be. And maybe the weight will come off, but not while I'm in such a rush. As y'all keep reminding me, slow and steady wins the race and baby steps are needed.

Of course putting this little life lesson into practice will be the challenge.

On Wednesday, I'm missing my yoga class so I can get a massage. Like I said, my shoulders and neck are so tight I feel like my shoulders are hunched all the time. I carry my stress there and in the tops of my thighs. I'm going to have him concentrate on those areas while I focus on my breathing and just slow down. Hopefully it will help.

But I think the first step is to just remember to breathe. So tomorrow, I will get up and I will breathe. If I feel myself bunching up again, I will find a quiet place and just breathe.

Let's see if I can stick to that. Namaste.

Day 22b: The New Not-So Magic Number

I realized I forgot to post yesterday's new magic number... Well it was .7 pounds...PLUS .7 pounds. Yes, I gained almost a pound. Two steps forward, one step back. I guess I'll just have to redouble my efforts this week. And pray what I'm hoping is PMS will pass this week.

Booger

Day 22: Catching Up...

First, I apologize for not blogging on either Friday or Saturday. This had been a off week. Off in many ways. A high, high with the birth of my nephew, a lovely evening with Kevin, but a lot more lows with a bad mood, work stress, and some poor eating choices, and an inability to muster any enthusiasm for exercise this week. I mean I didn't sit down and eat a whole box of Entenmann's Rich Frosted Donuts or a pint of Ben & Jerry's or even a package of Funny Bones (all though I had a close call with that last one). And I did actually exercise most days this week. But I didn't try very hard. And today I broke down and had a small chocolate soft ice cream cone from Mr. Softee.

Interestingly enough the hike that I took yesterday basically reflected the way my week has gone. Some really great and beautiful highs (literally) and some really low lows (mentally).

This week's hike was in Ringwood State Park. The write up says that it is a 5.5 mile hike. They lied. And I must take this moment to apologize to my brother Chris. I dragged him on this hike the year before last telling him that it was only a 5.5 mile moderate hike. He could do it. Well, he decided to wear his brand new pedometer and by the time we dragged our carcasses back to the car his pedometer read 6.2 miles. I told him that he must have configured his pedometer wrong or that it wasn't working properly, because the write up clearly says that it is a 5.5 mile hike. Well, when I got back to my car today, my pedometer read... 6.2 miles. Sorry I doubted you Chris!

Anyway, this hike has three significant ups in it and they all happen in the first half of the hike. As a matter of fact, the first one, the trek up Cupsaw Mountain, happens in the first half mile. This one starts you off with a very picturesque walk over a couple of wooden bridges, but once you cross the road, the pain starts. It's an immediate uphill trudge, no getting the muscles warm, just straight into it. Fortunately, it's not a very long up, it's a little steep in places, but not too bad. I even saw a deer leaping across the trail above me on the the mountain. Once up to the ridge, you have to go back down.

Oddly enough, I dread steep downs more than I do steep ups. Downs are a lot harder on my knees. I have to take them really slowly and make sure that I place my feet carefully with each step. Remember when you were a kid, how you could just run full speed down a hill and if you fell down it was fun and you just rolled the rest of the way down the hill? Yeah, me too. But these days, not so much.

The trail lead down into a wet area. There were quite a few spots of "seasonal wetness", some real shoe sucking mud. But soon I came out into the Shepherd Lake Recreation Area. There were lots of people already there (around 10:30 in the morning), swimming in the lake, fishing, renting kayaks and boats. I was already sweating like George W. Bush at a spelling bee, so it was very tempting to kick off my boots and just walk into the lake. But the prospect of walking another 4 miles or so in wet underwear and shorts kept me on the shore. I had a nice stroll along side the lake, and then turned off the road and began the trek up the second serious up.

I know I started this hike pretty early, but I didn't see a single other soul on the trails. Not a one. Not a single DHP, not a single unprepared day hiker. Maybe they knew something that I didn't know.

The third significant up is the hike up Mount Defiance. This is where you get the really money shots. It's also where the ups get steeper and the downs get scarier and it requires a bit of rock scrambling. Oddly enough, you don't get the views from the peak of the mountain. It's more like a rocky meadow up there, but then you head down a bit and the trail parallels some "impressive cliffs". The only problem is that you actually have to climb down to parallel those impressive cliffs. It was a bit of a scramble and I think I hyperextended my right knee during it. That knee started giving me problems over the rest of the hike.

I think my knees have a bit of a sibling rivalry going on. I've mentioned before that I had surgery on my left knee, so I tend to favor the left. The right knee has become aware of this and is rebelling. The left knee gets to wear the knee brace with the metal hinges, while the right gets the basic neoprene support. Apparently the right knee has become jealous of the support I give the left and let me know it by aching badly for the rest of the hike and being stiff all day Sunday. So I went out and bought the right its own "bionic" knee brace today.

Back to the hike. As I came down the trail there were a couple of side trails that I followed to rock out croppings with a fabulous view over the surrounding area. It was absolutely gorgeous, so lush and green. I would have loved to stay longer, but was starting to get really tired and my knees and feet were starting to ache so I made my way down the mountain on a switch back trail. I eventually came out on the grounds of Skylands Manor. It's a lovely area with a Botanical Garden, but I was too tired to explore it.

Now, occasionally on a hike you hit a point where you are just done with the hike. You may not actually be at the end of the hike, but your body and your mind are done with it. Your feet hurt, your knees aches, the charm of nature has worn off and all you really want to do is get back to your car and turn on the air conditioning. I was done with this hike almost two miles from the end. I was tired of the bugs buzzing in my ear, I was tired of the face fulls of webs I kept getting. I was tired of picking my way through muddy areas, I was tired of bushwhacking my way through lesser used areas of the trail. I was tired. And I was done. But, I had to slog through that last two miles to get to my car and its air conditioner. I was never so happy to see a hike end. But then of course I had to walk to the bathroom across a field and back and that added another 1/10th of a mile to the hike.

When I got back to my car my trusty pedometer read:

Miles: 6.35
Steps: 14905
Calories burned: 705
In a little over 3 hours.

Today I woke up grumpy and sore. We did diner breakfast and then I went for a little retail therapy. But walking around the mall made my feet sore and my knee hurt. So fat lot of good that did me.

I think I'll go to bed now. Tomorrow will hopefully be better.

Day 19: Oops I Did It Again...

I'm a bad girl... But it's all Kevin's fault! I swear!

I started off today really well. I had my bran flakes and blueberries, my mid-morning apple and then a bunch of vegetables from the deli salad/hot bar with a small baked chicken breast.

But then around 1:30, I got a text message out of the blue... "Dinner tonight?" It was my friend and fellow Evil Crew member, Kevin. We've been trying to get together for dinner for a while and apparently he was coming into Manhattan today for a meeting. I considered playing hard to get, don't want him to think that I'll drop everything just because he calls. So, of course, I immediately texted back "Sure. Why not?"

We set the time for 6:15 at Choice Kitchen and Cocktails. A friend had told me about the place and Thursday night is martini night, so the time seemed right to try it. Of course now that I had plans for the evening, I immediately spilled some of my lunch on the shirt I was wearing. So I ran out of the office and grabbed a new shirt from the store around the corner. (Ah the perks of working in midtown.) I headed over to the restaurant after work and got there about 10 minutes early so I hung outside and waited. Kevin was a little late, which seems to be the norm for him when meeting me! And when he arrived he walked right past me and the restaurant. I called out to him but he kept walking lost in his cigarette and his thoughts I guess. I watched him walk to the end of the block, look around, cross the street and start down the other side. Laughing, I waited until he got to the other corner and then pulled out my phone to call him, just as he called me wondering where the restaurant was. I got a good giggle from that.

When he finally arrived 20 seconds later, we grabbed an outside table. I tried to be good. Okay, I didn't try that hard. The remedy martini sounded entirely too tasty, coconut rum, pineapple juice and... something else with alcohol in it, oh, wait, vodka and banana liquor, that was it. I had three. They were sooooooo good. So I tried to be smarter about my food. I had the goat cheese tapas appetizer, basically dollops of goat cheese on toast with artichoke hearts and tomatoes. It was tasty and I only ate half, then for dinner I got the striped bass in a citrus glaze. Kevin was a big ol' copy cat and got the bass too. It was okay, but nothing to write home about. Did I mention that the drinks were really tasty?

We talked a lot while we were eating, so that kind of forced me to slow down my eating, which is a good thing. I used to race through my meals. When I was a kid, I was a very slow eater and I always ended up getting yelled at for holding up the whole clean up process. So I learned to eat fast. The problem with eating fast is that you never feel full so you eat more. That's something that most people don't think about as they inhale their meals and run to the next thing, I know I never did. Thinking about it, maybe I should never eat alone, so I talk more and eat slower. Scott and I have hit that comfortable silence stage so we're going to have to invite a third party I can chatter to.

We gossiped about the crew and chatted about work and travel. It was funny, this is only the second time we've ever met face to face, but it feels like I've known Kevin forever. It must be all those emails.

We walked from the restaurant back to the PATH train and Penn Station, and then I walked home from the PATH train. I'm going to count that as exercise, especially since I think I covered a little extra ground since I wasn't exactly walking a straight line. Boy, three drinks go a lot farther when you've been living on greens!

I've really got get back to the exercise tomorrow. I'm feeling a little guilty, but I'm not going to beat myself up about it. I'll just do a nice challenging hike this weekend and not be surprised if I don't lose anything this week. (Just as long as I don't gain!)

Did I mention that the drinks were really tasty? Next time I want to try the blood orange cooler.

Well, at least I had the fish.

'Night all!

Day 18b: Introducing...

The reason I missed my yoga class tonight... And pretty darned cute reason at that!


James Allen Duvall. 5 pounds 3.6 ounces. 18 inches long. Arrived June 18, 2008 at 6:37pm via C-section (hence his perfect and very cute head). I'm totally smitten.

And my sister is doing well too.

Day 18: A Child is Born in Bethlehem...

Pennsylvania. My youngest sister is being induced today. She has a number of factors making it a high risk pregnancy, so they are taking the baby about 4 weeks early. So I'm off to Bethlehem this afternoon to meet the 3rd Nephew (#6 overall) James Duvall.

So tonight's regularly scheduled blog entry, not to mention yoga class, will not happen!

See y'all tomorrow!

Day 17: So You Had a Bad Day...

Yeah, I had a bad day. In fact, I would go so far as to describe it as "crappy ass". Work was overwhelming and my spirits seem to be in the dumps. About halfway through the day, I just hit a low. It happens. I just start to question everything in my life, particularly right now my job. I'm feeling sort of stuck and more than a little overwhelmed. I told Scott the other night that he really needs to get his butt in gear because it would be nice if he could support me in the manner to which I'd like to become accustomed. And I was only half kidding.

My usual MO when this mood hits me is to comfort myself with food. I thought about it. Oh, how I thought about it. Towards the end of my work day, I took a break and strolled outside for a few minutes. The Mister Softee truck on the corner was playing his sweet siren song, calling to me with the promise of comfort in the form of a chocolate shake. Like and alcoholic confronted with bottle of vodka, I pulled out my phone and called my sponsor, the ever supportive Princess Elaine, and said, "You've got to talk me down. I want a chocolate shake." And bless her heart she did. She made me laugh and forget about the fact that I wanted a chocolate shake. And then warned me if I went ahead and got it anyway, she'd know, because she was a Jewish mother and she has all seeing eyes in the back of her head. And you know what? I believed her. She worked that guilt like a freakin' maestro, and in the end I stopped at the fruit stand and got a banana instead. Everyone should have a well practiced Jewish mother in their lives. Thank you my sistah princess!

When I got home from work, I was suffering from a complete lack of gumption. I had planned on cooking dinner, but instead I just ended up throwing together a whole wheat wrap with chicken breast, avocado, and pineapple salsa. Then I mindlessly played games on the computer for a while trying to work up the will and desire to exercise. Finally around 9, I decided that if I didn't get off my butt and out of the house I would ended up standing in front of the fridge and no good can come of that.

Maybe a walk would improve my mood. So I put on my sneakers and mp3 player and headed out the door. I didn't walk particularly fast, although, anyone who has ever walked the streets of New York with me, knows that my regular gait is quite lively. I ended up walking up to the north end of Hoboken and then following the river all the way to the south end, before coming halfway back and doing those godforsaken stairs and the hill at Stevens Institute of Technology. All told it was 4.7 miles, 11052 steps, 10953 aerobic steps and 464 calories burned.

As I wandered along, I kept skipping to the "wallowing" songs on my mp3 player, Joni Mitchell, Billy Bragg, Tom Waits, Cat Stevens, Harry Chapin, singing out loud when I was out of earshot (because why should others have to suffer with me?) When I got home, my mood hadn't really improved, but at least I didn't console myself with food.

Yes, I'm in full on poor, poor pitiful me stage right now.

But this too shall pass...

Day 16: Ancient History

Yoga class was a little more normal tonight. Turns out Jody was sick last week and trying to push through with a 103 fever. Silly wabbit. I knew the energy was off. But today was better, and I followed it up with a trial Reiki session. Reiki is a Japanese technique for relaxation and stress reduction that promotes healing. Basically it's energy work.

I was going to write a whole blog about energy and being sensitive to it, but then I got sidetracked. My niece posted a bunch of pictures from her senior prom on her myspace page, so I had to check them out. And of course it brought back memories of my own proms.

I was never the thin one in high school. I was the chubby "best friend" type, the mousy brown haired side kick. I was the buddy to all the guys. They didn't date me, but they hung out with me. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that I could drink most of them under the table. I was aware of my weight issues and I occasionally wished that I could be one of the thin cheerleader types, but that was never going to happen. My weight was and continues to be one of my biggest insecurities. So when a guy was actually interested in me, it always surprised me. I had a couple boyfriends during high school, but never anyone who actually went to my high school and never for very long. So I went to my proms with friends. Sort of a "Hey, I want to go to prom and you want to go to prom, so why don't we go together. Okay cool." kind of thing.

Now, I'm going to show y'all something. Please don't judge. And please keep in mind that this was the mid 80's. Here, making their internet debut, are my prom pictures.

This is my Junior Prom. My date is Steven Bitkower. He was a year older than me and a friend. He was also a last minute fill in for me. I was originally supposed to go with a guy that I had a thing for. But his very traditional Thai parents did not approve and he ended up having to break our date. Steven, bless his soul, was kind enough to step in and join me. We had a nice time. Two other girls were wearing the same dress as me. And yes, my natural hair color is actually that dark. (I didn't start to color it until about 5 years ago.)

Compared to what I gained later in life, I actually look pretty thin here, but compared to other girls I was big.

I kept that dress until just a few years ago, yeah, like I was ever going to wear that again right?

This is the Senior prom. Y'all can stop laughing now. It's New Jersey in 1987, my hair is supposed to be that big. I swear that I think I was possessed by the ghost of Scarlett O'Hara. I remember when I found the dress that I absolutely loved it, but they did not have it in my size. I had to get a size 12 I believe and they had to put some extra panels in the bodice to make it fit. It was sort of mortifying. And yes, I'm wearing a hoop skirt underneath. My date's name is Larry Bogad. We knew each other since elementary school. And come prom time we were both dateless, so it literally was "You wanna." "Yeah okay, if you wanna." My senior prom was actually kind of interesting. First of all, my older brother Chris and our friend Dave crashed it. They showed up in jeans and denim jackets and talked their way in. And second, we had a bitchin' after-prom. A bunch of us went up to a friend's vacation condo in Connecticut for the weekend. There was lots of alcohol involved. I remember falling down the steps at one point and getting a nice little cut in my shin. I laid there for a moment and then said, "Ow. I really must have done something because I can feel it." Ah sweet memories of youth!

Oh, but what I wouldn't give to weigh now what I weighed then! Even if I was still overweight, I hadn't yet been introduced to the Freshman Fifteen (or more like 30 in my case) and the simple pleasures of raw cookie dough eaten straight from the tube when you are really stoned. I had all that to look forward to! There's a time and place for everything, it's called college. But those are stories for another time.

Well with any luck, come January I'll be lighter than I was those twenty-mmmph...umm years ago.

G'night all!