It always takes a little adjusting to get back into the routines once I get home from China. It is amazing how disruptive it is to spend a little over a week on the opposite side of the planet, with a 14 hour time difference, a completely different culture, living in a hotel, and existing in an somewhat artificial and definitely temporary environment. The way I stay sane is to exercise, a lot! I brought my schedule with me and stuck to it, even when sticking to it was incredibly difficult. I was traveling with 3 other people and I was the only one that went to the gym even once, and I went everyday. I also adjusted to the time change faster than everyone else and recovered from the Chinese New Year's festivities faster than everyone else and I am convinced that the discipline I enforce upon myself while traveling has something to do with that.
I was much better this time about not eating too late at night and getting to bed at a decent hour. There were still a couple of late night meals, but those meals were important; either taking a customer out or going to the year-end/Chinese New Year's party for the company. Other than that, I begged off of the late meals and just headed to my room and had a light snack at dinner time. Breakfasts were still big in China, definitely my largest meal of the day, but also my most normal meal. They have a decent Western breakfast buffet at the restaurant, so I have eggs, fresh bread, and fruit for breakfast; along with several cups of coffee. Lunches could be anything from McDonald's or Pizza Hut (can you believe it?) brought into the office or Chinese carry out. I vastly prefer the Chinese carry out, but the other travelers seem to enjoy the American food mid-day, and I am one against three. Everyone knows I don't eat beef and pork, so when they bring in Mickey D's I get a chicken sandwich and Pizza Hut (still the world's worst pizza, even in China) is a veggie pizza. This is why breakfast is big, it's pretty good and I can skimp on lunch, which is always iffy, if I have a big breakfast. When we go out to dinner it is almost always a shared meal, meaning many dishes are ordered and you just take what you want. This works really well for me because our Chinese hosts know I like veggies so they always order two or three green vegetable dishes, a chicken dish, and a fish dish; along with all of the other things for everyone else. I load up on my veggies at dinner, which are almost always some kind of steamed or sauteed green leafy vegetable and are usually delicious. I also eat a little chicken and a little fish. So, except for often being too late in the evenings, dinners are pretty healthy.
I miss blogging while I am in China. Blogspot and Facebook are blocked sites, so I don't have my social media outlets. I tried to start writing a couple of times, but it feels different to me when I know I can't post what I am writing that day. I have always liked writing letters and blogging is a lot like letter writing. I could never keep a journal, though I have started many in my life. I get bored writing to myself, I guess. But I really enjoy writing letters to other people and blogging feels a lot like that, unless I can't publish my posts, and then I just feel like I am writing to myself again. It occurred to me after I got home that it would have been good to write something daily and I could have published them once I was stateside again. I will try to do that next time I am there (March or April, maybe?).
Now that I am home I have relaxed a little and have been a little lazy for a few days. Well, lazy might not be exactly the right word, but I certainly have not been as disciplined as I need to be. I got home at about 4:00 on Wednesday, which is league bowling day. I slept about 3 or 4 hours of my 24 hours of traveling, but I did not want to go to bed early Wednesday night so that I could start to adjust my body to Central Standard Time as quickly as possible. I went bowling, instead of going to bed. I was tired and a little punchy and bowled pretty badly (averaged about a 113 instead of my normal 126) but it kept me awake. I went to bed at about 10:15pm on Wednesday and slept until 9:00 Thursday morning. I managed to put in full days at work Thursday and Friday so that I could use my comp day (we get a comp day for each weekend we lose to international travel, an informal policy, but a policy, nevertheless) to go help take care of my new grandson, James Craven McKown and his mom, Rebecca. I went to the gym Thursday night and did an upper body workout and 5 miles on the treadmill. The 5 miles on the treadmill after the 55 minute upper body workout was tough. I ended up walking about half of the last mile, but I got all five miles in. Friday morning I was back at the gym doing my lower body workout with Jeremy. As soon as that was done I knew I needed a day off soon, I had been hitting the gym hard for a couple of weeks, now. I was planning on taking Sunday (today) off, but yesterday a minor task, gluing in a tub tile, turned into a major home improvement project, so Saturday up being my day off from exercise instead of Sunday. After paying the bills, including reconciling our accounts and setting up our February budget (The credit cards now have a $0.00 balance and we are two months from having both cars paid off!!!!! By March 31st our only debt will be our mortgage!!!! And all 6 kids are done with school [well, Brianna has a couple classes left in the summer, but Kyle has helped her get grant money since they have been married, so for the last couple of semesters we've only helped with books and been paying for health insurance] so with the credit cards and cars paid off and no more school to pay for, we are looking forward to accelerating our savings for retirement. In the nick of time...I hope!!), going bowling (I averaged a 147 and Jack averaged a 172), shopping for knock-around sneakers, stopping at the hardware store for supplies, and working on the tub for about 5 hours, there was no time to exercise.
So where does the laziness, or lack of discipline, come in? you may ask. Well, let's just say I didn't mention the word "cook" in the above paragraph. I have not cooked a meal since I've been home. We had some leftover chili in the freezer, so that was our meal one night. But aside from that we have gone out or "scrounged" (Jack's word for hunting through the fridge and cupboards for something to eat) for our meals since Wednesday night. This has not been good for my weight. I have gained a few pounds and need to be much more disciplined this week. We have made our grocery list, I know what I will cook, and I will not eat out at all this week. Between cooking all of my own meals, counting all my calories, and working hard at the gym, I am sure I will be able to knock these few pounds out pretty quickly. I am not worried about it, I am within the range I set or myself, but I know I need to stay on top of my weight so that I never have more than a few pound to lose. I don't blame myself for not coming home from China and immediately cooking meals for myself, at the same time I can see the immediate impact on my weight, health and well-being from eating out vs. cooking for myself. It's not a bad thing to have that reminder. Not a bad thing at all.
Today will be a busy day. We need to finish the tub project, but we can't do that until this evening because the tile glue needs 24 hours to set before we can grout and caulk. Even though the project got bigger than we thought it would, I have to say I really enjoyed myself yesterday. I decided that since we had to replace a tile, I might as well recaulk the tub. When I was pulling out the caulk about 15 more tiles came off. And it turned out we had lost part of our backing board. So I had to pull off enough tiles to get to the next stud so we could replace a chunk of the backing board. Several of the tiles that fell off were broken, so I had to cut tile. I had never done any of this type of work before. Of course, this necessitated a trip to the hardware store for Jack, to buy backing board and a tile cutter. Luckily, we had spare tile in the house from when the previous owner had replaced the vanity. Unfortunately, it had a bunch of dried glue on the back, so Jack got the nasty task of scraping glue off the back of the tiles. But for me, it was nothing but fun. I had a great time figuring out how to cut cement backing board without the proper tools, cutting tile, fitting them in like a jigsaw puzzle, and gluing them in. I thoroughly enjoy this type of task. Tonight we get to grout and caulk and by tomorrow we should be able to use our shower again.
We will also go to the gym today, and I need to get some work (as in Castle Creations) done, and cook our meals for the week. By that time, the day will be done. And it is 10:13 in the morning and I am still blogging. I slept in a little later today, than normal. I am finally getting over the jet lag and was able to sleep soundly last night, instead of waking up half a dozen times wondering where I was.
In case you are wondering, the exercise is still going very well. Since reaching my goal weight and changing my focus from weight-loss to training, I have had a lot more fun. I have thought about this a lot over this last couple of weeks because I am experiencing such a radical and unexpected attitude adjustment. Usually I have to force attitude adjustments upon myself when I realize I have been behaving (or just thinking) badly. This time the attitude adjustment came along without any forethought on my part. I just realized I was having more fun at the gym. "What's up with this?" I wondered. After giving it a lot of thought, I realized that it has everything to do with my decision to allow myself to think of myself as an athlete. There is a huge difference between thinking of myself as a slow, fat, lazy person that has allowed myself to get totally out of shape and thinking of myself as an athlete. For 10 months, every time I went to the gym...well actually, for the last 30 years, every time I exercised, it was punishment for being fat and lazy. It was something I had to do in order to make up for the fact that I was overweight, spent too much time sitting on my butt, and ate too much. A lot of it was punishment for eating too much. I have always beat myself up for how much I like to eat. Exercise has been punishment most of my life. It was the dues I had to pay for being fat. There were two exceptions to that. Training for the AIDS Lifecycle ride and hiking. Training for and doing the ride felt like an accomplishment, something I achieved in spite of being overweight. And I loved it. Riding my bike turned out to be something I was good at. I enjoyed getting on my bike and having it jump to life under me. I could pedal for hours without tiring out. After some training, a 70 mile bike ride was pretty easy. I also love hiking, even when I was very overweight and fell a lot, I enjoyed it. Riding my bike and hiking didn't feel like exercise, it was play. But every other form of exercise was something I imposed upon myself as a way to "get in shape" or, in other words, fix my broken self.
Fix my broken self. For my entire life that is exactly why I exercised. Part of me as always felt like I was broken since birth. Like I was dealt a raw deal with this slow, awkward, near-sighted, over-sized tonsiled, narrow nasal passaged, mouth breathing self. As I aged, I began to have more gratitude for my gifts and feel less pitiful about my weaknesses. I started to realize how fortunate I was to have a strong back, endurance, and an optimistic outlook on life. When I was 40 I had those ridiculous tonsils and adenoids removed, along with additional unnecessary tissues, which cured my sleep apnea and reduced my need to breath through my mouth. That was the beginning of my transformation. I was finally sleeping at night and getting the rest my body needed. I was no longer living in a fog. I could think clearly without feeling like I was fighting through a cloud of wet cotton balls just to get through the day. All of a sudden I had clarity in my career and realized I was good at what I do. This gave me confidence to demand more of myself and to take some significant steps in my career. This, in turn, gave me confidence in other aspects of my life. Having Jack in my life has also made a bigger difference than I think I will ever be able to put into words. Knowing I am loved without qualification provides a stability that I have never known before. I have always known that I could count on my family (my parents and siblings) if I ever fell flat on my face, which I have done a few times in my life. When I have fallen and I had no idea how I was going to get up, my family was there for me, like a safety net. Perhaps I would have found a way without them, but I am not certain of that. But in spite of knowing they would never let me be destitute, I still felt alone. Does that make any sense? I don't know. But that is how I felt...alone. But with Jack, I have a partner, someone with whom I share my life. It's an incredibly stabilizing feeling. I feel grounded and have direction. I feel safe and loved and cared for. I feel like I have a steady foundation from which to build. It is amazing, after all of the years of struggling to stay on some sort of reasonably steady course, to be sailing on an even keel with relatively little effort. Daily life is no longer a struggle, which allows me to use my reserve for other things.
And that other thing turns out to be becoming an athlete. I am no longer slower and fatter than my peers. I am still very near-sighted and have a little trouble breathing through my nose, but hey, nobody is perfect! When I look at other 50 year old women I realize I am in better shape than most of them, and that feels pretty darn good. I know I would be able to outrun most of those girls (and boys) that were in my class 40 years ago that made fun of me for being slow and uncoordinated. I bet a bunch of them are dying their grey hair, too!! I am no longer beating myself up for being lazy and fat. I feel good about myself. Heck, I plain feel good! I am stronger and more coordinated than I have ever been. I no longer slip and fall a lot. I catch myself easily if I trip over a crack or the ferry comes to a sudden stop when I am standing (that happened in China). I can easily step over my neighbor's stretched out legs in an airplane or curl up in my seat to take a nap. My body is responsive and pretty darn nimble. I don't feel old anymore. So now when I exercise, I exercise because I want to. I am looking forward to my first triathlon in August. Exercise has gone from being punishment for being cursed and lazy to being training for an event that I am looking forward to. Exercise isn't exactly play-time, but it is pretty close. It is something I want to do, because I like myself. (Wow, I didn't know how that sentence was going to end until I wrote it. I knew I was going to write, "because I like ______, but I didn't know what the "blank" was going to be until I wrote the word, "myself." After I wrote "myself" I cocked my head and looked at it, not quite believing I wrote it. Then I nodded, said, "Yes, that is exactly why I exercise, because I like myself." This is crazy shit! But I love it!) It's all different now, and different in an amazing way. This last few weeks has been liberating and inspiring. I am happier and more content than I can ever remember being. Even when I am tired, jet lagged, and feel a little puffy from eating out too much these last few days, I am happy and content. Life is good. Fifty doesn't feel old, it feels like I am starting anew and refreshed. I've put so much behind me and I feel like I have so much ahead of me to be experienced and discovered. I am grateful for so much, including the hard times that have made me the strong and resilient person that I am today. I wouldn't go back and undo or redo anything, for fear that I wouldn't get to this good of a place if I had taken a different path earlier in life.
Blogging helps me put all of this in perspective. It helps me think in a linear fashion, rather than going round and round with my thoughts in my head. I am so glad I started blogging, almost a year ago. I am even more glad that a few people actually read my blog, because I have someone to write to. I write to you, not to myself. I don't feel like these are random words, just reverberating in my brain. I feel like I am communicating a message to people that want to know what I have to say for some reason, either because they care about me, or because it helps them a little bit in some way, or maybe just because it is a little distracting or entertaining. Whatever the reason, I know there are a few readers out there, and that gives me a reason to write, a purpose. It helps me straighten out my thoughts and make sense of the way I am feeling. It helps me make forward progress on a daily basis. Perhaps, in a way, it's a form of therapy. Whatever it is, whatever you want to call it, it helps. Thank you for being part of it, whatever it is.
