I do it, and I do it big. Here's to not forgetting about it.

Posts tagged ‘Food’

Fat and Happy? 

It’s February and I’m afraid to weigh myself. 

I hate to say that I’m one of those people, but I started the year really well on a detox. I lost my marathon weight and was feeling better. I won’t post all the details here, but I went to the doctor one day and left feeling fat and frustrated, so I’ve been slowly but surely returning to my habits. 

I am seeing that it isn’t so much the taste of unhealthy food that I crave, but I have allowed my life to become so busy that I prefer the “liberation” of not planning workouts or meals. Of course, the word of the Lord proves true for me – I am not at peace when I do not keep the law, or healthy living, in this case. 
I must say, however, that there is much hope in my most recent race performances. Shortly after the marathon, I was concerned that I was permanently slower than I have been. I see now that this is not the case. I am coming close to some of my best times – and I am fat. That is AWESOME. That means if I get it together and get my vision back, the best shape of my life could still be ahead of me. 

Some dilemma, no? I could be healthier and faster but I don’t feel like planning my meals and doing tough workouts right now. Joan. Seriously? What if Baby J comes on the scene in 2018 and it’s game over for the time being? What if life just happens and I get an injury that sets me back? I am happy that my body seems to have bounced back from my marathon, but Lord knows I will be truly happy only when I place some restraint on myself and work toward the best body I can. He gave it to me! Can’t have all the cupcakes! 

First Friday: Still Fat but Happier 

Apparently, if you’re trying to make a permanent life change, reflection is a good idea. 

Thoughts: 

  1. I’ve never eaten so much fat in my life. Well, on purpose. Well, healthy fats on purpose. 
  2. It always amazes me how quickly my cravings go away when I spend quality time with one of Blonde Oprah’s meal plans.
  3. I like how I look better in the mirror. I am not sure if the way I look is different or if the way I look is different. Because of how I am eating.
  4. It is pretty easy for me to resist crap food if I plan properly. It’s like I worked too hard to prepare it to blow it on some stupid ass free lunch in the teachers’ lounge. 
  5. I love cooking healthy food for my family. It is fun partnering with Momsy to make meals happen for us. 
  6. I think the joy comes less from how I see myself in the mirror than from knowing I’m doing the best I can for my body. 

Bring on the next week! 

  

It’s always the Mother’s fault: Lenten Tribulation

1. This one is the most important. I know whatever comes below will be executed imperfectly. I resolve to give myself the freedom to be imperfect without beating myself up.

“Hey, Mom,” I used to query, shamefully not too long ago. “I didn’t ask to be here, right?” “No, you didn’t,” she would reply. “Your father and I wanted to have you.” “So!” I said triumphantly. “If I do anything wrong, it’s YOUR fault, because I would not have done it had you not had me.” She would shake her head at me and I would laugh maniacally. I mean, it makes sense! I couldn’t leave dirty dishes in the sink if I didn’t exist to put them there! 

Of course, even then I understood such passing of the buck was terribly evasive. My conscience is generally as tender as my mind is sharp. I truly believe one of the reasons I don’t handle criticism very well is because I am constantly raking myself over coals. By the time another person tells me something that needs work, I’ve probably told myself the same a million times. If I make a bad decision, I likely know it is a bad one, ‘wretched Lady J that I am.’

I like to think I am spending the time between now and getting my glorified body (just think of how fast I’ll be able to run in Heaven!) becoming more like Christ – minimizing the bad decisions as much as humanly possible. This sanctification business is no joke, y’all. The Holy Spirit has a LOT of work to do in my life. Today’s shortcoming: how I treat my body. In an effort to do better for myself, I’ve given up eating out for Lent. It’s not just about eating better (though important) or even saving money (races aren’t free) but what’s required for me in order to not eat out.

I’ve got to plan. And I hate that. 

I could wax eloquently here about why I think this is the case, but I’m basically your garden variety, boundary hating sinner. I’ve had to adjust my bedtime. Cook more. Plan my shopping. I have met a fair amount of success, for I feel better physically and am learning valuable things about planning, not to mention praying for patience

Then there was the Mother. 

Not my dear mother. A mother. A longtime friend! She’s moving to Italy for a few years and I will not see her unless I see her tonight. We love to eat. Naturally, she suggests we meet for a meal. Dilemma. 

I agreed because of my initial reaction. I didn’t think, ooooo, opportunity to cheat! It was more like, hmm, should I really do this? I wasn’t looking forward to it, aside from seeing her. Moreover, I didn’t care to make her seeing me extra work for her, though I don’t think she and her family would have minded. I  am not out to make some point on how great a Lenter I am. 

My burger didn’t have enough cheese. 

I told my own mother about it later and she teased me. “What kind of sacrifice is that?! How can you say you are committed?” I’m sure she knew I had already asked myself that but couldn’t resist. You know how moms are. I don’t feel great physically or mentally, nor do I feel good about going back to real life tomorrow. I might if I felt healthier or skinnier but right now it’s as though eating out doesn’t really make a difference. My shirt didn’t look that great at 6 PM. It doesn’t look so hot at 9:50. What did I lose? I suppose that misses the point, though. Discipline is discipline and I know that even if I were to gain a billion pounds between now and Easter, I would have done so doing the right thing and committing to do better for my body. 

Not even the sweet potato fries I had earlier are as sweet as God’s grace.



Mardi Gras

Does anyone else find it terribly inconvenient to go buck wild on a school night?

Buck wild: (adj) – to go to bed past 9:30 PM, perhaps in conjunction with the enjoyment of a few slices of pizza.

My dictionary isn’t the most thrilling. But I digress.

Protestant Christian that I am, this former Catholic school girl has observed Lent for many years. This season in the Christian calendar is meant to commemorate the time
Christ spent in the wilderness being tempted. The sacrifice one makes, ideally, should force a person to lean on God more. For instance, I wouldn’t give up going to the movies because I never do that. However, choosing something to sacrifice that will take the wonder working power of the Holy Spirit to do will indeed prepare my heart to observe the awesomeness that is Christ’s resurrection.

Last year, I gave up negative self-talk. I realized I couldn’t do this alone by the day after Ash Wednesday, hah! It dawned on me that not loving myself was breaking the 2nd of Christ’s commandments as recorded in the Gospel of Matthew: love your neighbor as yourself. I learned I was treating my neighbors MUCH better than I was treating myself. It was kind of nice being nice to me. Of course, human that I am, I have relapsed, but I don’t think I am quite as bad as I was before I first started. I am more forgiving of the fact that I consistently need forgiveness.

This year, I am finding that I am having trouble putting the best fuel in my body. Not necessarily because I crave crap all of the time, but because I would rather eat poorly than do the planning it takes to give myself the best. I believe it is more of my negative attitude that is problematic than the actual eating poorly. Outwardly, I may be giving up eating out and junk food, but it is really going to require that I work on my resentment toward structure in order to make this happen. I’ve often wondered how doing something good for yourself can be termed “sacrificial” if you stand to reap great benefits from doing so. I’m willing to go out on a limb and say that attitudes like that are part of what nailed Christ to the cross.

I’m embracing the opportunity to grow this Lenten season – toward Christ and others as I seek strength for this challenge. At least, now that I had some cake in the teacher’s lounge. Can’t win them all.

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For when this belly business isn’t such a blast…

I’m challenging myself to 21 days of clean eating because –

1. I can do better for my body than I am right now.

2. I am anticipating the most active year of my life and am going to put my body under a lot of stress. The less weight I have on me, figuratively and literally, the better.

3. It is good for me to do things that I am not sure I can do.

4. Though this seems to conflict directly with #3, when I did this 2 years ago it worked really well.

5. My pants will feel better.

6. It will feel good to set a goal and achieve it. Even better than this French toast tastes right now. Barely, but every bit counts.

7. It will bring me closer to people who are working toward the same goal.

How I will define success:

Because I said previously that I will not weigh myself until the end of the month, I will define success by my following of the plan. If I do what it says and feel physically and mentally stronger, I win. If I don’t, I don’t.

My 5 Affirmations:

1 – 4: You do not have to be perfect. Spoken louder each time, perhaps sung by the final repetition.
5. You are not alone.

My Reward at the end of 3 weeks:

Three wishes from a genie. I don’t know!!

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We run tings; tings no run we! Race Report

I think it’s quite appropriate that my race report for my 10k at the Reggae Marathon is coming 8 days later. Normally, I have them up within 24 hours. Jamaicans aren’t exactly known for their promptness. I feel I’m representing my people well.

That being said – this was one of the most well-organized races I have ever attended, which I was most definitely not expecting. The race started at 5:15 AM, and I had turned on my Garmin and corralled myself in the back with my mother by about 5:10. I was sitting on the ground doing a bit of stretching when I heard an air horn. I looked at my watch. 5:15. I looked ahead and saw people take off. Legit. I walked toward the start with my mother, turned on my music, and started running as I crossed the first timing mat.

Bob Marley’s “Exodus” was playing as we started. I grinned as I appreciated the appropriateness of the song. It always feels amazing to be part of the mass exodus toward glory that is the start of any race. Off went my own music. At the beginning of the course, the road was lined with people holding torches and cheering us on. A band of steel pans was playing for us just around the bend. This music is pretty sweet. Each time it would fade, I turned on my music, but I found myself having to turn it off and on to hear the awesomeness the race organizers were offering me. You read that right. I had no choice.

Like Coachie said, I was there to have fun. My goal was to run no less than a 12 minute mile, and that I did. I sang along to the best songs. I paid attention to my angry left foot. I passed incredible scents as I ran along the main road where the resorts were preparing food for the day. “Singing – good. Stopping for jerk chicken during the race – bad.” I do have boundaries, even for my fun, you know.

The race was just an out and back course. I saw the chute where we had started and I began to pick up my pace. I crossed the timing mat and looked at my watch. “5.8 miles…weird.” New rule: if someone isn’t handing you a medal or bottle of water, don’t slow down. Thankfully, I created this rule right then so I didn’t lose any time. A bit ahead was a sign that read, “10k turn around, half and full marathon straight ahead.” “Thank God!” I shouted. I wasn’t terribly fatigued, but I had free beer and bacon waiting for me. I pushed for the actual finish line, feeling strong and happy.

“We run tings, tings no run we” is a Jamaican saying. It essentially is a reminder that circumstances can’t control us. I am elated, beyond the breakfast and booze, that I did not allow what I had scheduled previously (a full marathon) to dictate what I did because that would not have been good for me. I went to Jamaica and had a blast. If running a 10k at 1:12:46 is my rock bottom, by God’s grace I’ve come a crazy long way in the last two years.

Rasta runner.

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Thanksgiving, Day 3

Lady J has a lot on her mind tonight! This set of 10 is coming pretty early…

1. Sleep. I am grateful for the opportunity to rest at regular intervals.

2. Waking up each morning. I am thankful for every day; it is a new chance to bring glory to God. I come up short each day but clearly I have work to do as He keeps allowing me to awaken.

3. The doctor. I hate this guy. It doesn’t matter which one it is. But I am thankful for both the means to see him and a large enough percentage of what he says not being crap.

4. My massage therapist. Love, love, love this man. He helps me heal from all the foolishness I ask of my body.

5. My hair stylist. I mean, just look at me. Enough said.

6. Florida weather. Yeah, it’s blazing in the summer and can be a *tad* uncomfortable, but between November and April I see those poor jokers north of us and am pretty sure I am here to stay.

7. Prayers not answered the way I want them to be. It is truly amazing to be able to look back on my life and see why God has closed certain doors for me.

8. The ability to pray in the first place. I’m so glad I serve a God who cares about the needs and wants of Lil Lady J!

9. Running skirts. Never are my legs simultaneously so productive and attractive.

10. Drugs. The legal kind that help my foot with how I abuse it. Heh. I just had a shot.

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