Treadmills and pork rinds

I have learned the game at the YMCA or the Y as they like to be called now.  Jesus is apparently too offensive for their marketing practices.  Anyway, I do believe without a doubt that I am treadmill challenged.  The treadmill use to be my main source of exercise a few years ago at 5 in the morning and we got along fine then.  Now, its after me.  I always feel a little odd about so many of us in one area all running like gerbils in a wheel, but the treadmill takes it to a whole new level.  When I arrive at the treadmill we have a silent conversation between souls.  I say, "do me right and help me to run 5 miles and burn a bagillion calories today, sir."  He just stares back at me as if to say, "just get on and let's see where the conveyor belt lead us, shall we?"    He has no sense of humor.  My quick start has started and up goes the arrow button to kick me into a faster pace.  I had never tried to actually run on the treadmill until the other day.  I had always been so fearful of its power to launch me into the cycles behind me in some awkward spread eagle pose and totally throw Barbie off her pedaling strides.  Wouldn't want that now would we?  But this day was a new day.  One of adventure.  One of risks to be taken.  I had walked really, really fast last time while chatting it up with Liz and had not realized that I had ripped something off my hip bone until later.  My hip hurt so badly that day I thought I would have to go to rehab to learn to walk again, much less run.  With ice packs doned daily I got my nerve back up to tame the horrible beast and this time I would run!  Throwing caution to the wind I bumped him up to 4.6, yee ha, I was running on the treadmill.  I happened to glance next to me at the gazelle's treadmill and she was pushing 6.8 and you couldn't even hear her run.  How does she do it?  I sounded like a stampede of horses running through the room and the treadmill was shaking like my washer does when the load is off balance.  I kid you not, I think that machine shuffled a few inches to the right!  How does everyone else run and the dang thing not move?  I was embarrassed but I stayed the course, for one thing I was scared to death to slow down for fear of being thrown off.  Then this teeny tiny little whisp of a thing climbed on the one to my left and pumped up her speed and got to going.  I had to say a "thank you Jesus" cause she sounded like she had lead feet and I didn't feel so bad about my mobile treadmill anymore.  I will tame that awful beast one day!  I will prevail!  The best part of the YMCA is the sauna.  It lures me into the front doors knowing that just a short time later I can bask in the heat and pretend like a cabana boy is going to bring my drink shortly.  Ah, the joys of exercise...... Now, to ice my hip!

Totally off topic:
After my run OUTSIDE tonight, freezing my buns off, I had to make a trip to the grocery store.  Why do pork rinds get a middle of the floor display and gigantic signage?  And why does the cashier not know the identity of my acorn squash?  Then the navel oranges were in question... tsk, tsk, tsk...sad days at the local supermarket......

Can't fix stupid

A retired high school Physics teacher, an author, a professor of religious studies, a doctor of theology, a preacher's wife, a retired physician, a retired engineer turned high school math teacher turned professor, a doctor's widow, a retired nurse and teacher, a dentist, a minister, a retired government worker, a homeschool mom and a stonemason flooring dude.  What do all of these people have in common?  Born in the same town?  No.  Stood in line at the same coffee shoppe?  Doubtful.  How about a book discussion @ the local scholar's hangout, of course.  Duh.  That last remark is telling of my maturity level in the room.  I mean, what grown up really uses "duh" as a response anymore, right?

  Anywho, this group convenes in a college town close to me.  To drive through this town makes you feel slightly under educated.  Oddly enough, I fell in love with the pillars and the grassy areas of this college town when I was very young.  One of my earliest memories was coming here on one of our vacations to the lake house.  Oh, just to lay soles to the sidewalks made me giddy.  I loved the way you could just close your eyes and practically smell the pipe tobacco wafting from the open windows of the English department!  I wanted to live there someday.  That dream has changed.  I like to visit, but I like my internal organs and the only way I could remotely afford to live there is if I started selling off pieces of myself.

My husband and I are attending this book discussion at the invite of my mother.  Not sure yet whether to say "thank you" to her.... I'll let you know, mom.  Just kidding.  The room was filled with the heaviness of degrees upon degrees upon doctorates that attached themselves as part of the alphabet onto the backsides of each persons introductions.  The room felt like one big comfy wool sweater with a tweed sport coat.  I hung on every word that these folks seemed intent on getting across.  Never in my wildest dreams will I ever feel like speaking in the group as to the discussion of the book.  David and I have resolved to use the smile and head nods as our contributions to the discussion.  An occasional note talking or doodling when the words become to large, so I won't forget to google the definitions later, will be the extent of my participation.  Well, that, and actually reading the book.

The book is called, "The Language of God" by Francis Collins.  I am only into the book a few pages, but am very excited to crack open the spine and carve indelible ink into the margins as I go.  Francis Collins is the head of the National Institute of Health and the Human Genome Project.  He is a believer in God and Jesus Christ as his savior.  The subtitle reads, "A scientist presents evidence for belief".  Born in the Shenandoah Mountains of Va and lived most of his life in NC, he and I have trod in the same paths along the way.  That is where my comparison of my life and his ends.  I am fascinated by the book's premise and am ready to see where God has led Mr. Collins.

The first discussion is done and there will be several Sunday evenings of joking about C.S. Lewis and pondering the importance of science and faith playing nice on the playground together.  I feel certain the discussion will be lively and quite eye opening.  After all, the backgrounds are diverse, the directions in which each of us think about science and faith are as vast as the universe itself.  No, really, the Theology doctor was sitting beside the lady who said, "I pray like God is a person, but I really don't believe that, so basically I pray to the universe.  Oh, and by the way, I will just be honest, I believe in reincarnation, too."  Ok, then.  This will be awesome!  I just hope no one finds out I never actually graduated from college or I might get kicked out of class....

I am including a video of the author at a commencement speech at the University of Michigan.  It really is quite entertaining and will make you want to know more about this book by way of his sense of humor!  I hope you enjoy!  God bless.

Warning: May Cause Bruising

This concept of growing up is harrowing.  I pride myself on being a grown up with childlike tendencies.  I know when to act like a grown up, most of the time, and I know when to laugh and have fun.  But in reality no matter how hard you try you can never avoid growing up.  It requires vertical movement of time and the addition of years onto your age.  Your stature changes as you mature and click off the next mark on the door jamb with the appropriate date, which proves you have grown an inch since the last measurement.  You push your way through the educational system or out of the system and find yourself working or studying at a local university or hanging out with the peeps.  But, you're still grown up.  As this is a physical manifestation of time, what about the spiritual, mental, conceptual clicking of the secondhand?  The growing out part?

I've had the privilege and the wonder to see this new vision of growing out in my children.  I had never really thought of it that way, but that defines it much better for me.  Growing out makes the world a bit bigger.  You can grow a tree in the same small pot, but eventually it reaches it's full potential in that small pot and can no longer thrive.  It may stay green, but it will start to look weak, stop producing fruit and just become sad.  Amazing what a find you can get on the clearance rack at your local garden center because the plant "looks" dead.  All it needs is to grow out.  You have to replant from your small environment into the one you're meant to thrive.  Leaving room for roots to spread and runners to shoot off and start their own plants here and there.  Growing out. 

John 15:2

He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful.

It's this pruning part that brings us out of our infancy into a world full of fruit bearers and growth, reaching for the sun.  As I watch my two older boys planting roots far away from me I become an emotional mess.  On one hand I wish I were there to check up on them physically and make sure they had what they needed, pick up the slack, cook them a dinner or two.  But then the pendulum swings and a sense of wonder fills my heart with being here and watching them grow out.  Hearing how they've moved into the direction of growing out.  How each has had their own challenges to meet, decide the course, take action and stay in motion.  It brings my heart joy knowing that they desire to be in motion.  The challenges haven't grown them up too fast, and haven't squelched the desire to move, but have given them the ability to continue to grow out.  Reaching for the Son as guidance hopefully will be their goal.  

In observance of my offspring, though, I have realized that I am also still growing out.  I've lived in the illusion that once my kids were a certain age that I was pretty much an adult myself and that "growing up" or growing out was pretty much a slowed pace, almost a non existence.  But no, I digress.  This stage in my life of letting go of the parental in-house control and giving them up to the heavenly hosts to look after has been one of trepidation.  But growing out with myself and being able to see how God works in their lives is a sweet front row seat ticket!  It's that moment where your aren't dependent on your parents emotionally for growing out, but you grow out in spite of their presence.  I still grow out with my mom by my side a lot, but not because I'm dependent of her for my growth, but because she likes the view and I like having her there to lean on for support, but not life support.  

So, as the scars remain from the pruning I have experienced, they will remain for my children, as well.  But the fruit, as a result of the pruning, tastes ever so sweet and is in such abundance that the scars become a "God and me" badge, one to add to my sash of badges.  God knows what's best.  He knows where you'll thrive the best.  He knows how far away you'll be, but he knows we must continue to grow out.  And the only way out is choosing to grow out instead of just growing up.

I hope you enjoy the warmth of the sunshine, the quenching rains, the stretching of your limbs as you continue to grow out.

Hurdles and all things that make your face hit the concrete....

Ugh.  Yea.  It's pessimistic me, back again.  I have been in the midst of training, or trying to train, for this 10K that is in April.  I do like the exercise and the way I feel after!  I hate the me that I am before I run.  The one who whines all night before bed then wakes up hoping someone will call me with some great reason why I can't run today!  I bitch and moan to my husband, who lovingly and sweetly rubs my back and brings me breakfast and coffee and kisses my forehead WHILE I'm pouting and tells me he loves me.  I know when to pull out the pouting card, but he no longer buys into the rants.  Dang it!  I then go run downtown in front of everyone with the style and grace of Phyllis Diller with her cigarette.  Old Lady style, ya'll, I got that down pat!  I know the girls I run with want to shove me in front of the next garbage truck just to not hear me whine about every ailment I am suffering from this week.....  I think it actually helps them with their workout..... they start running faster and farther away from me.  That's ok, that was my plan to be by myself, I have plenty to talk about with me, that's where it all starts.

When I first started I had some most painful knee problems that were quickly remedied with the right pair of shoes!  Hey, you all must know this if you're ever going to run, get the right pair of shoes.  They will cost you a boat load and you will thank me.  Don't go to the local "shoe store" unless you know they have experience with watching your gait and analyzing how you're running and walking and can really give you what you need in a good shoe.  I mean it.  This is sooo important.

Thank goodness I then contracted "black toenail" or "training toenail".  Ick.  No one ever told me about this!  It's like having a baby and then hating every mother on earth because she lied to you or just never told you what the heck was really gonna happen!  Cruel, people, really cruel.  This sweet little runner's treat comes from pounding the ground over and over with the bottom of your foot, say, like in running.  A blister forms under your toenail and it becomes painful and bruised and will eventually fall off!  Yay!  Let's hit the street for more intervals!  Then it will take 4 to 5 months to grow back.  At least now my mind is off of the soreness of my knee and into my toenail and all of its awesomeness!

Then came the excruciatingly intense hip flexor pain.  Remember when you held that kid on your hip all day and it was really sore that night?  Try carrying two of them and running for an hour downtown!  It hurt, and is still rather sore and it ticks me off.  I need a massage.  I need acupuncture and some hot stone therapy.  And a mug of hot tea with Govi strumming in the background to make it go away.  Hey!  Don't judge me.  It might help because I haven't tried it yet and I think it sounds like great therapy!  At least now my hip pain took my mind off of my toenail.  I need a Yoga class badly......

To top it all off, I fell last week before the snow fell and sliced my hand open.  But, at least it took my mind off of my hip.... My hand is much better, but my hip is still sore!

So, as I recap here, running is awesome!  Vegans, unite!  Cooper River.... watch out!  Who's with me?!  Hoo-Rah!

I'm going to get my icepack now and cry in my pillow.  Kidding.  I am going to run the race, literally, put before me.  I can do it.  None of this will stop me.  None.

1 Corinthians 9:24-26

²⁴ Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize. ²⁵ Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training. They do it to get a crown that will not last, but we do it to get a crown that will last forever. ²⁶ Therefore I do not run like someone running aimlessly; I do not fight like a boxer beating the air.

It's not you, it's me.....

The wafting smell of a pot roast simmering in Lipton Onion Soup Mix for hours on end can send my mind to a place of love and warmth and friendship and Sunday afternoons.  The taste of homemade ice cream makes me want to put on my pinafore and run around in the church courtyard and play tag.  The sight of my friends Too-Much -Chocolate cake or the Oh-so-yummy carrot cake make me want shrill in delight.  All of these emotions evoked by the sight, smell, taste of food.  For years, I have been an emotional eater.  I'm sad and I need a chocolate cake.  I'm depressed and I need some chips.  I'm lonely and I need a plate of mashed potatoes.  I'm happy and I need to celebrate with Fettuccine Alfredo.  I don't feel anything so I must need something to eat, how about crockpot barbecue!

Food is defined at the Princeton online dictionary as "any substance that can be metabolized by an animal to give energy and build tissue; any solid substance (as opposed to liquid) that is used as a source of nourishment; "food and drink"; anything that provides mental stimulus for thinking."  I like this definition.  It defines food in a scientific manner in its inanimate effect on our bodies.  Afterall, food can't really provide anything else other than nutrition, right?  It can't function as comforter or listener, right?

However, this next definition I absolutely hate and I feel it is what motivates our obesity as a nation.  This one comes from wikipedia and as we know of wikipedia, most is made up by users and isn't necessarily correct in every situation.  The real definition of food isn't this, but as for the cultural definition of food, this one is right on the money.  "Food is any substance, composed of carbohydrates, water, fats, proteins and water, that can be eaten or drunk by animals, including humans, for nutrition or pleasure. Items considered food may be sourced from plants, animals or other categories such as fungus. ..."  So, what makes the last definition so vile, IMO?  Well, it's that one little word.  The "p" word.  Tacking on "or pleasure" in that sentence after nutrition almost cancels out nutrition altogether.  Because if it was about nutrition AND pleasure then we would take both of those words into account.  Right?  When is the last time you did not associate food with some sort of emotion, like pleasure?  "Oh my gosh, that was sooooo good!" Like it took on some sort of orgasmic experience?

I recently read an article by Victor Epand on "Endorphins and the Science of Addictions", and while he was speaking directly to the addictions children have with video games, I honestly believe that this science applies across the board to the addictive behavior we all possess.  Here is what he had to say:

"So what is meant by addiction, as far as doctors and medical practitioners are concerned? Basically, when the body or brain is engrossed in an activity, chemicals are released into the bloodstream, and quickly end up with the brain. These chemicals can make a persons' mood change quite dramatically, cheering them up, making them feel happy or good about themselves, distracted from the stresses and strains of life, and generally feeling positive and satisfied. Similar words and concepts used to describe addictions to drugs, cigarettes and alcohol. When an athlete runs or exercises hard, endorphins are released into the body and these can actually have the effect of giving the athlete a 'high', making them feel a rush of positive happiness. This can become very addictive, just as the body can become addicted to any chemical introduced to the brain which makes the brain feel good. "

This is not an uncommon science.  I am confident in saying that every doctor or health professional, western or eastern, will affirm the beliefs laid out in this article.  If you have an unhealthy lifestyle as an individual or a family and you want to become healthier, you must overcome this  habit of associating food with an emotion.  Divorce your food.  Send it a Dear John and tell it to never darken your door again!  Ok, in the emotional sense, not literal.  You cannot do without food, that is a given.  But food was never placed in your midst to become this idol of sorts that controls your life, controls your health, controls your budget, controls every aspect of your life.  

When I married and became a mom, I expected of myself to grow this gene of love of all things nurturing to my family.  I shopped.  I agonized over meal plans.  I looked for bargains.  I woke up thinking about breakfast, then tried to plan what dinner might need to be and what needed to defrost.  Then it was lunch time already and after I got everything cleaned up from that, it was time to start on dinner.  What the.....?!  I tried hard to appeal to my whole family on the pleasure they would take in every single meal and snack.  I would be heartbroken if they didn't like it.  I would be heartbroken when they did like it, but didn't reaffirm it with accolades for all my hard work I put into preparing, shopping, cleaning up after it, etc, etc, etc.  This led me right to the fridge for some comfort for myself and to the idea that deserts would pretty much make up for whatever was lacking in the dinner.  They usually forgot about what the dinner tasted like if I had a bowl of ice cream waiting for them.  Don't misunderstand me here, I can cook.  Ask my friends and my mother.  I am a damn good cook, if I might say so myself.  But, I was miserable.  My unusual obsession with fear of rejection had made it all the way to my dinner table with the people I trusted to love me more than anything!  Except food, so I thought.  I was associating being a nurturing mother with providing them emotionally stable foods, not necessarily nutritious food.  Thus, the cycle will continue with my children when they grow and leave the house, unless we break up with our food.

Since becoming a vegan a few months ago, I have had some revelations in myself that I have been able to overcome and now see in a whole new light.  It is not my intention in this post to convince anyone to become vegan, although it is an amazing lifestyle change.  No matter how you eat, carnivorous or veganism or vegetarian or pescatarian, whatever, do you eat that way emotionally?  It is, however, my intention to shed light on what kind of emphasis food plays in the life of those who have found themselves here to my blog.  Food, sent to this Earth by the Almighty Father himself, is for your nutrition.  Nutrition that gives you energy to do what God has planned for you in this life.  It's fuel for your muscles and bones and organs.  We've perverted our view of food into this elaborate production and presentation on our own dining room tables to the millions of tables around this world in restaurants.  It, food, takes up more of our time directly and indirectly!!  Think about it.  Do you plan your day around your meals?  What you'll fix or where you'll go?  What about vacations?  I mean really, why is there an ice cream place that sells a gold encrusted ice cream sundae for over $1000?  That feeds a whole different emotion for me.... anger.  Do you know how much nutrition that could provide for a family in need?  Crazy.

It's time.  It's time to have a sit down conversation with your Fridgedaire and it's contents and that of your pantry.  It's time to renegotiate your contract with food in your life, a sort of menu prenup of sorts.  Food is not meant to provide an emotional experience for me.  And when I abuse that, it makes my butt bigger and that makes me emotional and then I turn to the one things that started it in the first place.  Stop making love to your food.  Stop asking it out.  Stop letting it let you down constantly and making you feel tired, mad, bloated, etc.  God intended our bodies for use in his kingdom not the healthcare kingdom or the local gym kingdom.  When I realized that my work for Him suffered because of my unhealthy cravings for my relationship with my lunch, I decided enough was enough.  

Seriously, look at how you cook, prepare and entice your family and yourself to the table.  How about food for purpose not for pleasure?  When God sent the Israelites into the desert, He fed them.  Not something that brought them pleasure, but nutrition so that they wouldn't starve to death.  He loved them.  He loves you and finds you worthy of so much more.  The things that are in your food, if you buy processed, would shock the hell out of you if you knew how it affected your brain and thought processes.  How some are intended to depress you so that you will eat other things that will lift you up, making a vicious cycle.  How there are ingredients that are addictive, making you want for more.  Just like nicotine, baby.  That's a post for another day.

Matthew 6:25
For this reason I say to you, do not be worried about your life, as to what you will eat or what you will drink; nor for your body, as to what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? "Look at the birds of the air, that they do not sow, nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not worth much more than they? And who of you by being worried can add a single hour to to his life?