Operation: Get Healthy

I’ve been doing okay on this whole working out regularly schedule.  3-5 days a week is what I have been shooting for and I usually hit about 3-4.  Not bad, but not great either.  My workouts don’t push me that hard but at least I’m doing something to start it.

Where I falter is on eating.  I love food.  A lot.  And when I’m exercising I always justify the bad foods (like that cheese steak-style chicken sandwich yesterday) by saying that I ran yesterday.  Obviously they don’t balance each other out.  And even if they do balance each other out (which they really really don’t) the whole point here is to slim down, not keep the same weight and flab that I’ve got now.

And yes, a lot of that eating is emotional eating and drinking.  Emotional because, have I mentioned that I really don’t enjoy living down here?  Don’t enjoy the fact that my boyfriend works late?  And whenever he works late I get into this downward spiral of My Life Sucks!  When really, it doesn’t.  But god does it feel like it does.  So instead of going for a run or hopping on my bike I head for bed with a box of tissues and cry about the injustice of living a block away from the beach – and no amount of thinking how awesome it is that a girl from Idaho now lives a block from the beach can console me.  No, this isn’t my ideal place to live; but it’s also not the worst place in the world to live – even though I act like it is sometimes.

So that’s where Operation: Get Healthy comes in.  I joined Moose’s OOTL, Round 2 to get on track and take back control of my life and how I live it.  Yes, for the past year I’ve been idling by and making it through with occasional bouts of This Is Fun – As Long As It’s Not Permanent.  But the more that Wes works late or on the weekends and I’m left at home twiddling my thumbs and playing free cell on my phone the more I realize that it’s just not healthy.  Not healthy to be so dependent on one person for all my needs.  Not healthy to put all my eggs in his basket (bad metaphor?).  I’m hoping that by joining this group of blogging ladies (guys too?) that I’ll have the support I have been looking for to start a life in Orange County.

So first thing’s first: what am I going to do to Get Healthy?

1. Join a pottery class – it gets me out of the apartment one night a week and I might meet some new friends.  If nothing else I’m sure I’ll have some fun stories and interesting pottery.
2. Learn calligraphy – after trying to address envelopes for a work party I realized that I need to step up my “fancy” writing (also after seeing Holly’s invitations).
3. Exercise 4-5 days per week – incorporating running, swimming, biking and even some weight lifting (which means I need to get back to the gym).
4. Stop eating junk food – this one is going to be terribly hard, especially if I stick to #3 because that is always when I feel like I deserve the not-so-good-for-you foods.  I think this also means that I need to be in the kitchen more.
5. Hang out with girlfriends – I’ve finally found some friends (Two!) who are in my age group and in the (mostly) same stage in life.  And I need to make time to see them in a girls only setting (like Time Traveler’s Wife tonight!).
6. Virtual Book Club – my brother and I have decided that what we need is a virtual book club.  So I’m starting one.  Leave a comment if you want to join.

I think that’s a good place to start out.  I know it’s not going to be easy, but it’s got to be a hell of a lot more fun than fuming on a Friday night about your boyfriend working until 8:30.  Anything has got to be more fun than that.

Make it Attainable

I set a goal for myself yesterday: run 40 miles in 4 weeks.  Nothing huge, but something manageable so that I don’t end up failing like I did at trying to work out every day for 31 days.  Or trying to write every day for 31 days (perhaps I’ll try again in September).

This is mostly what I do when I setting goals: I forget to make them manageable.  I want to blow the whole thing out of the water the first go around.  Go Big or Go Home!  And it ends up with me going home because I can’t go that big.  But again and again I set it up Huge.  I don’t like to do things half-assed, which usually amounts to doing them not at all.  Like the apartment that never gets thoroughly cleaned or organized because What is the fucking use when it’s so goddamn small and nothing fits anyway? Or cooking a fun meal because What is the fucking use when my meal partner is a meat and potatoes guy and will not understand/care how delicious the meal is? (though that actually works out when I think things aren’t good enough because he will eat them and he will smile and at least he will appreciate that I attempted something fancy and that I put on the apron to cook).  This is essentially the internal conversation I have with myself for pretty much everything I want to do: What is the point? And mostly I don’t even bother trying to find a point to it because it’s so easy to find the not-point to it and just not do it.

But that leaves a lot of delicious recipes untried and a floor unmopped and a bed unmade and the carpet un-vaccumed.  Which looks an awful lot like a life half-lived.  Well, I guess not half-lived because I am certainly living it, but definitely a life lived less . . . fun?  Or something like that.

So I am back to making weekly menus for dinner and trying something new instead of looking at Wes and then agreeing to spiral mac, delicious though it may be.  I bought a mop for the kitchen and determined to get the floors clean(ish).  Making the bed will probably not be happening though because someone is usually still there when I leave for work.  Plus, I just read that making your bed can contribute to bed bugs and such because they need the dark and damp to thrive and making your bed creates such an environment.  So it’s totally not me being lazy at all.

I’m also hoping to get on my bike more often.  To try some longer rides and step up my intensity.  To not immediately slow down after kicking ass on that huge hill (and I do sort of kick ass on hills).  In two weeks Wes and I are meeting up with Ashley and Dave for some camping and bike riding.   Ashley and Dave have been road biking for years (and years and years) so of course they’re going to kick our ass no matter how often we ride between when we made the plans and seeing them, but it’d be nice not to be so far behind them that’s it’s like we’re not even in the same party.

The first start of this whole trying to complete things is the menu that we made for this week.  To get all the ingredients (I’m notorious for missing key ingredients and falling in a heap of tears to the floor) and to follow the damn recipe (with maybe some added embellishments but keeping the spirit of the recipe).  I’d love to make it to the farmer’s market for some fresh items instead of picking through the ragged bunch of vegetables the grocery stores seem to have.

I guess that means that I’ll have to be strong and instead of flopping on the sofa for a catnap go straight to work on getting things going.  Mad Men will have to wait until after the chores are done, unfortunately.

27

So it turns out that 27 doesn’t feel that much different than 26.  I just did a wikipedia search for 27 and if my 27th year looks anything like this list I’m not sure what will happen to me.

Those two weeks before my birthday were a little rough while I realized that my career is a dead-end, my boyfriend is still my boyfriend and I live in an awful little town in an awful little area called Orange County.

But then the actual day came and it was pretty sweet.  Early morning presents and cards and then a very relaxing day watching bad crime drama and The Little Mermaid.  Knowing that no one at work would give a damn about my birthday I opted to stay at home instead of showing up for 10 hours.

27 is the new 26, right?

We were in Seattle this weekend for my cousin’s wedding and while at breakfast with our lovely hosts Ralph Macchio was described as having kids “our age”.  I laughed becasue Ralph Macchio can’t be old enoug to have kids in their late 20s (turns out, though, he probably could have if he started early) and she said, “Well, early 20s” and then we all sighed deeply at the thought that we were clearly in our late 20s.

Oh, man, I hope I get over this by the time I’m 30.  Perhaps then I’ll have finally settled into a completely fulfilling (emphasis on the complet part of that because, while my life is mostly fulfilling, it’s not completely) life and the thought of growing old won’t automatically lead to thoughts of Holy fucking shit I’m going to die someday because, really, even though that’s true it’s still a long way off.

NaBloPoMo Fail

When I received notification of August’s theme for NaBloPoMo I had visions of completing it successfully.  It’s my birthday month and the theme - Tomorrow  - fits perfectly. And then all of the sudden it was August third and I hadn’t even posted.

I failed before I could even start.

And of course there’s a reason – not a good one, but a reason: I completely forgot that a) it was August; and b) that I had decided to do this.

I suppose I’ll have to hold off until the big one – November NaBloPoMo.  I think that I should be able to handle that, though who really knows.

But Tomorrow.  Yes, it would be the perfect thing to contemplate this month of all months.  Tomorrow is what I’ve been waiting for ever since I moved her.  Specifically, the tomorrow that brings our departure from Southern California.

(Man, I am starting to feel bad about bitching about this place so much becasue I know that some people love it.  And that’s totally cool, but this place just isn’t for me and I’d like to leave it as soon as possible so that there’s more room for all the people who do love it.)

I like to believe that as we creep closer to the 2010 year that the Tomorrow of all Tomorrows is getting closer as well, but in truth I have no idea.  It could come next week (oh, please let it come next week) or it could be another year (fuck, I hope I didn’t just jinx myself by writing that).

Also coming up in a couple of tomorrows (five of them, if you’re counting, which I totally am) is my birthday.  The big two-seven.  And yes, I realize that’s not BIG big, but it’s still fairly big.  Well, it’s big to me, anyway.  For some reason this birthday hasn’t been about My Birthday (like it usually is) but about all the ways my life hasn’t been as successful as I had wanted or hoped it would be.  It’s been about all the ways in which I feel like a failure.  Also: it’s that much closer to 30 which is that much closer to 60 which is just a hop skip and a jump away from dead.

(Yes, I admit, I’m somewhat overdramatic on some things.)

Plus, what am I actually doing on the day of my birth?  Well, for most of it I’ll be chilling alone at home.  By myself (is it bad that writing that makes me want to cry a little bit?) because the thought of coming to work and, you know, working for ten hours with people who could care less that it’s your birthday and you love to be the center of attention, well, it just sounds awful.  And while I’m slowly making new friends (Ok, one new friend and I had to steal her from another friend who lives all the way up in Washington) she will be working.  The evening is a surprise though and I’m looking forward to seeing how my boyfriend and I celebrate together.

Aren’t you glad I failed so early at NaBloPoMo and you don’t have to read these rants all month?