Category Archives: How I think

I was raised differently

I follow several blogs.  A great many of them are success-oriented.  The interesting things they all have in common is that everyone is programmed from birth to be what they are now.  We all believe what we’re told between the ages of 0 and 6.  Our personality is set by age 6, and everything we do and think is what we’ve been told to do and think.  We put ourselves in bad places mentally and physically by our attitudes on life:

  • “Eat Drink and be Merry because tomorrow we Diet.  Wait… Die?”
  • “Life’s a Bitch and then you DIE.”
  • “When you Die you can’t take it with you.”
  • “You’ll never see a hearse pulling a U-Haul.”

The gist of this is that nothing we do on Earth matters, so you might as well enjoy your stinking life in your paycheck to paycheck job with your boring spouse and your over-scheduled kids.  Who wouldn’t want to take an automatic and shoot everyone in sight?!  There is no hope in this view of life.  But some people actually enjoy life.  That’s just wrong on so many levels.  They should feel guilty for how much time, freedom and money they have.  They should spend it on us because we have no time, no freedom and no money.  Why can’t we become people with time, freedom and money?  Because money is evil, or the root of all evil or the love of money is evil or something from that book that has the gold lettering and 2″ of dust on it.

  • “Money can’t buy you happiness.”
  • “Life would be better without money.”
  • “The rich get richer and the poor get poorer.”
  • “The poor will be with us always…until they all die of course.”

It’s true–money can’t buy your happiness.  Neither can NO money.  Money represents trade.  I trade what I have in goods and services for what I want from someone else’s goods and services.  I cannot trade music lessons for carrots, but I used to trade it for 1 gallon of fresh milk (directly from the cow to me!  I had to pasteurize it myself) and 2 dozen brown eggs.  I trade what I have in talent and time for a substitute type of currency (little pieces of paper with pictures of famous people on them) that I can use to trade for carrots.  I don’t have to find someone with carrots that has an interest in guitar lessons.  Much handier.  I can trade information on finances with someone that wants to trade information on history.  Although it would be mentally attractive, I cannot make stew with historical information.

Turns out, I was programmed differently.  I have suffered from that all my life.  One of the most asked questions in my family as I was growing up was, “What do you think?”  Silly me.  I thought everyone had this kind of discussions at home.  I was an outcast because I actually thought that what I thought was interesting, in-depth, and had some sort of worth to the people who surrounded me.  I was wrong.  I found out I had been programmed wrong…bad code.  People were people and just wore different skins and hair.  Some were good at thinking, some were good at working with their hands.  People were fascinating creatures.  We don’t all think alike or believe alike or act alike, and that makes humans interesting.  Somewhere, sometime, some people became aware that since not everyone thought alike, some must be right and the rest wrong.  Oops.  And since I didn’t think like that, I was wrong and was ridiculed for it.

Let’s just settle this here and now.  I’m right.  Now let’s go on from here.  There is more than one way to accomplish things. It is ok to make money.  It is ok to enjoy yourself.  It is ok to want freedom and time to do things.  Work is fun when you contribute to your society.  There is no one way to do that.  It’s like Paul described the church in the bible (1 Corinthians 12:12).  The reason the rich get richer is because the rich think differently than the poor.  The rich trade thoughts and innovation for money, the poor trade time and effort.  The rich look for assets–things that provide multiple income streams.  The poor look for a 52″ flat screen and diversion and put their money into liabilities.  So you could have a large bank account and still be poor because you look at the money as an asset instead of a tool to accumulate assets.  You could have a 0 bank account and be rich because you can trade your time and effort for an asset that brings in money regardless of your attention to it.

Jim Rohn says that every child should have 2 bicycles–one to ride and one to rent.  The child doesn’t have to ride both bicycles, and doesn’t even have to ride one.  He might rent both of them!  Then he could use the money to buy a 3rd bicycle.  See?  He now has a revenue stream.  The maintenance and repairs on the bikes might bite into the revenue stream, but it wouldn’t stop it.  Sooooo, the kid with 0 money goes and does odd jobs for the neighbors to earn money to buy the 1st bicycle.  He rents out the bicycle because he can’t ride it while he’s doing the odd jobs.  He has an active income stream from his own efforts, and a passive income stream from his little brother who rents the bike from him.  The kid now uses the profit to buy a second bike, and now can ride further around the neighborhood to do odd jobs and increases his territory.  He enlists the help of one of the neighborhood kids to do some of the work, and though they split the profits, the kid still has to rent the bike to get to the jobs.  If kid II doesn’t figure out what kid I is doing, he continues with this arrangement as long as Kid I continues to get jobs and rent him the bike.  Kid I becomes fairly well off.  Kid II has money for movies and snacks.  Which one becomes rich?  Kid I’s little brother is without a bike since Kid I rents it out to the neighborhood boy to help with his business.  Kid I’s little brother gets his own bike the same way by selling lemonade on the corner.  Then he adds cookies to the stand.  Then he boxes up some of the cookies and sells those.  Then he hires a neighborhood girl to run the stand and opens a 2nd stand in the neighborhood down the street.  The children in that household have figured out what assets are.

Was I programmed like this?  Why, yes, yes I was.  I cannot bring myself to work for others.   I do not have a 6 figure income.  I have been to Europe 3 times since I was married.  I have been in every state except Hawaii and Louisiana.  I paid cash for the $1450 repair on the car for a compressor.  I have investments that grant me multiple streams of income.  I am not rich because I have a big bank account, I am rich because I have multiple assets.  I have time, freedom and enough money to do what I want.

Once you are aware that where you are you programmed yourself to be, and where you want to go is also programmable, write the program!!!

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We?

I was listening to the radio “For Your Health” program this morning, and came to an interesting conclusion.  Here’s the set up:

The hostess states some statistic about how many people lie to their doctor when they go in.  She then goes on to say the obvious–that you could leave out pertinent information regarding your condition that would significantly alter your diagnosis.  That you must be up front when discussing your habits such as drinking, drugs and activities.

My conclusion was not that people are trying to save face in front of the doctor so they don’t appear weak and vulnerable, when, in fact, they are AT the doctor’s clinic BECAUSE they are feeling weak and vulnerable.

What is the 1st thing the doctor says when he or she comes into the room.  They look at the chart and then they look at you and say, “How are WE feeling today?”  Now if the mechanic came into the waiting room at the dealership and looked at the computer read-out of your car and said, “How are OUR cars doing today?” you’d look at him funny.  I dunno!  I don’t have the chart with all the information about YOUR car.  I assume since you drove it here, and I towed mine, your car is in pretty good shape and mine doesn’t work.  Let’s just concentrate on MY car.  If the waitress came to your table and asked, “What are WE having for breakfast today?” (and we’ve all had this happen), most would respond, “Wait–you came to work in a restaurant before you ate?  Can’t you sneak something in the kitchen?  Did you want to join me for breakfast?  It’s ok with me, but we’d have to split the check.”

So when the doctor asks the patient that stupid question, the patient is not wanting to appear stupid in front of the doctor.  He looks him up and down and makes his best guess that the doctor is probably fine and not hurting anywhere.  Then he self-assesses and then using a math that is as incomprehensible as quantum mechanics and averages it out.  The patient then replies, “pretty good for the most part.”

Don’t be fooled.  The doctors know exactly how you feel.  They have your chart!  They can tell what you’ve been doing.  If your eyes are bloodshot and you say, “Will this take long Doc?  I’m really hungry!  Oh and did you know all your pens talk?  Dude!” he will know you’re on some kind of drug.  He just wants to know one of two things: 1. Is it prescription? and 2. Can I sell it on the side to pay for my liability insurance premiums?  Hmmm probably not that 2nd question.  If you smell of alcohol and tobacco, and you giggle at the questions, he’s going to know you might have a drinking problem.  If he tells you what he suspects and you exchange money with your spouse, he’ll know you might have a gambling problem and that your kneecap injury is probably an indication that you’re not very good at it.  He will know when he listens to your digestive system and gets his stethoscope kicked that you might be pregnant.  He will understand when he comes into the exam room and you ask him where the tomatoes are that you might be suffering the first stages of dementia.

The point of the program was to encourage people to be straight-forward with their doctors.  My point is that doctors should ask, “WTH is wrong with you?” instead of using the royal “we” and then they’d get a straight answer.

Crutches

Ever get off the crutches too early?  You start doing compensating behaviors (like the way you changed the route you took to your desk so the hand rails would be on the correct side.)  You change your stance, you change your gait, and then things heal wrong.  You start compensating to the point where you prevent healing.

This happens on emotional and mental arenas as well.  You wake up, trip on the covers and bonk your toe on a chair.  Then you say to yourself, “Well, it’s going to be one of THOSE days!”  Why would you set yourself up like that?  It’s emotionally and mentally safer that way.  You’re expecting things to go wrong so that when they do, you pat yourself on the back and say, “Yup, you called it right!  It IS one of THOSE days!”  What if instead, you said, “Well I got the worst part of my day over with and it’s not even 7:30 AM!  Woohoo!”  What if something else went wrong during the day?  What if it WAS worse than smacking your toe?!  You’d be WRONG in your ASSESSMENT!  Has anyone heard your assessment?  How would anyone else know?  Ahhhh, you go around telling everyone what a horrible day it has turned out to be today and it’s not even 10 AM.  Why?  Because misery loves company.

How about those of us that say, “Well I’m certainly klutzy today.”  That gives us license to spill the coffee on that goofball in accounting that thinks he’s clever and is always trying to be witty in the break room.  It gives us an excuse to knock all the papers off Mr. Never-makes-a-mistake’s desk so he has to put them alllllllll back in order again.  It gives us permission to be mean and blame it on our klutziness as exhibited in the privacy of our bedroom earlier that morning.  Wait… No one saw that.  Hmmmm.  You could make up a story about your short comings and have a ball taking out all those people that annoy you!

  1. I didn’t get my morning coffee, I’m grumpy.  We can tease and yell and complain all day!
  2. I couldn’t find my keys this morning, I’m losing everything!  Like the report we didn’t do or the party funds we might use to buy lunch today…
  3. I’m so distracted today!  I can’t focus on …squirrel!  That allows us the freedom to stare out the window during the meeting, and interrupt the blabbermouth as he regales everyone with his boring golf stories.

But see?  This makes you the annoying person in the office.  It is fun, but it isn’t right.  Do not use a single characteristic to paint your whole day.  Do not ascribe a temporary shortfall in your abilities to a fatal flaw in your character.  So when you stub your toe, just say OUCH.  If you don’t get your coffee, drink some at work or on the way.  If no coffee makes you grumpy, you have much bigger problems.  If you lose your keys, be extra attentive to your belongings.  If you’re distracted, go to the bathroom and collect your thoughts so you can refocus.  Because eventually, if you have that many fatal flaws, and destiny is against you, you will be hit by a bus.

 

Humor

I was watching Stand Up on Nitwit Flex the other day.  I have seen 4 comedians.  The 1st one told long stories, one of which involved him performing at a prison, and another about his relationship with his wife.  It was amusing but not funny.  The funny one was the black guy who said he was taking notes for future material, and would whip out a notebook sized piece of paper when they laughed big or when they didn’t.  He had some great Carlinesque and some Richard Pryor moments where he just made observations on life.  His language was foul.  The remaining 2 comedians were talking about bodily functions the whole time.  That might be funny to 5th graders or high school sophomores, but none of the material these 4 were using corresponded to the laughter they were getting.  In fact, it didn’t seem to me that the audience reaction was in line with the stimulus.  It’s like when you tell a joke that is not funny and the crowd goes crazy–like the venue sprays silly gas on them before you get on stage.

Are they laughing because they feel intellectually inadequate in that they don’t understand the humor and don’t want the people around them to know they didn’t get it?  Are they laughing to prove to themselves and the people around them that they are worldly wise and sophisticated enough to get the f@rt jokes?  Are they laughing because they’re embarrassed by the material?  (I had a kid that would smile when he was embarrassed.)  Do they have plants in the audience?  I would be a Robin Williams in that venue!  I would have people rolling in the aisles under those circumstances.

I could talk about weight lifting at the gym after a yogurt breakfast.  “Now for squats…I hope I don’t f@rt!” *acts out lifting and f@rting.  Crowd goes wild.*  I could do potty training grand children.  “Welcome to Trouserless Tuesday!  Drop your pants, and if you need to pee…go to the bathroom or clean it up yourself.”  *crowd is in tears.*  I could tell a story about hiking the trail after burritos for lunch.  1/2 way around the lake, I REALLY have to go, and there’s no toilet paper in the out house.  It’s too late.  People across the lake can hear the expulsion and look up to see where the jet is.  The methane released peels all the paint off the interior.  Other hikers walking by pass out.  I use the toilet paper roll to scrape off as much as I can, and have to walk funny for another mile and 1/2 to get back to my car…where I am recoiling at the idea of sitting down and driving home.  *crowd is rolling on the floor and some are having accidents themselves.*  But I don’t think that material is funny.

What I think is funny are those little blue pill advertisements.  How can it be considered erotic for 2 old people to be in separate bathtubs, outside, holding hands and looking at the sunset?  1st of all, it’s 2 older people.  2nd, why 2 tubs?  (Wouldn’t a nice big Jacuzzi be more erotic?)  3rd, is the water heated or does it get colder?  (I’d think that cold water might be a detriment to later performance…)  4th, in order to get started, one or both have to get out of the tubs.  So if they’ve been sitting in cooling water, staring out at the sunset for any length of time, they’ll be pruny, and goose-bumpy, and, well, shriveled.  I would think that my first reaction to such a scene would be laughter (and shivering).

My audience is different though.  They’re not the millenials and new parents and those of mid-life crises.  They’re the grandparents, the mean old nasty ladies with the canes, the old guys with the Bermuda shorts and Hawaiian shirts and silly hats that constantly yell, “Git off my lawn ya little buggers!!!”  They’re the ones with life experience.  They’re the ones that read bill boards and laugh at the implications.  (Picture of Lincoln–failed, failed, failed, failed, President–Persistence!  And we’re thinking failed, failed, failed, failed, shot.)  Or look at those inspirational bill boards put up by the churches.  Think how much easier it would have been if there had been bill boards in Moses’ day.  “Yo!  MOSES!  The sign said next exit!”  Could have cut some of the traveling time.  Or post one up with Jesus’ picture on it saying, “THIS IS THE GUY!~God”  Would have saved a lot of people from 2nd thoughts.  I always get confused about the connection of nearly naked ladies and cars.  Which are they selling?

I think that the lengths some of these people go to have the perfect ANYTHING are ludicrous!  The more moving parts, the less likely things are to be perfect.  So if you’re spending $30k on a wedding dress, and the perfect destination wedding, with the perfect band or dj, and the perfect vows, and the pre-nuptial agreements, and the right people at your wedding (the ones that have enough money to GET to the destination) it will be a perfect occasion.  It’s just ONE DAY in your married life and the next 12 years you will be arguing about money because you’ll still be paying for it.  It is the same with the perfect birth for your baby.  I confess I heard this last discussion on the radio.  It was HILARIOUS what women do.  “Oh, no we’ll be having a completely natural childbirth in the completely natural childbirth facility with 15 people on hand to do the child’s first spinal adjustment as he’s born, the string quartet playing Mozart, the midwife, husband, obstetrician and 3 nurses on hand, the priest, the gospel choir and the most sanitary of rooms. Whatever is best for the baby.”  Oh, really?  Well, we’ll be having a completely natural childbirth on the beach in the ocean.  The salt water keeps the child floating on the sea and completely relaxed.  Whatever is best for the baby.”  Oh yeah?  I was part of the Lamaze group when that went through.  That was rather enjoyable.  Now that isn’t enough.  Speaking with the nurses and staff, I discovered that 80% of the Lamaze patients were screaming for drugs before they got through the 1st couple of hours of labor.  It seems to me that everything in life needs to be a production put on by the most prestigious directors in which we (the untrained!) play the leading roles.  Does that make any sense to anyone?  It cracks me up!

Strangely enough, not many of the things I find funny ever end up on the “Stand-Up” stage.  You know that a regular target for archery is the big circle with little circles inside?  If Donald Trump was a target, he’d be just a big red circle.  So no, he’s not on my list of funny things…too easy.  Bodily functions have ceased being funny since gradually, in my advanced age, I am losing control of all of them.  Complaining about aging is off the table because the youngsters don’t think it’s funny or they don’t get it, and the “more mature” members of the audience often have funnier stories about the same subjects.  That leaves me with observational humor.  Carlin was the master of that as was Robin Williams.

What do I observe?  9 times out of 10, the guys from CSI (and Miami CSI and NY CSI) don’t apparently work for any of the other police on TV.  There is a reason for this!  When the investigations are run by CSI, they have the LAB GEEKS GO INTO THE FIELD WITH THE FIELD AGENTS AND THEY TAKE THE LEAD IN THE ARRESTS!  So if you want credit for a collar, you don’t let the CSI people anywhere near your crime scene.  They will steal it from you!

I also notice that if you put a mask on a famous person, they become unrecognizable.  I can see how that would work with Dare Devil, Spider Man and the Flash, but the Green Arrow?  Supergirl?  Superman? Com’on!  Facial recognition would nail them the 1st time they showed up in a news story!

I also notice that Gibbs never gets called on a harassment charge for his head slaps.

Unfortunately, another noticeable thing is that during sweeps week, everyone goes into the bedroom.  I don’t want to KNOW what they’re doing on their own time in the privacy of their own homes.  These are mythical creatures, these TV personalities.  They NEVER go to the bathroom.  The women are never experiencing PMS.  All the guys are experts at the salmon ladder,  and none of them has hair on their chest.  Even Hercules (Kevin Sorbo) had hair on his chest.  I cannot imagine having to grow chest hair back!  What an itchy situation!!!

What is the likelihood that I would get a call from “Stand up” to do a session?  Somewhere south of .005%.  *Sigh*

An Evil sense of humor

I just watched a pitch for a “Smart House.”  It’s run by a Smart Phone ap.  Oooooooh the possibilities! Let me tell you about the features of this marvelous product.  It has camera access to every room in your house.  Oh really?  The bathroom?  It has 2 way communication so even kids without phones can contact you by ringing the door bell.  Oh, yes, there’s a camera in the door bell.  It keeps a log of everyone that has been to your porch!  With this ap, you can open and close your garage door, turn up or down the thermostat, turn your lights on and off, turn off your appliances (like irons and washing machines) and lock and unlock your doors.  I’m like a kid in a candy store!

“Hey house!  Turn on the lights, open the garage door and unlock the front and side doors.”  *Waits patiently for enterprising thieves to notice.*  There’s a likely participant.  He wanders into the garage, and checks the door.  In he comes.  “Hey house!  Turn out the lights.”  Thief walks into chair.  Disembodied voice (you) says, “You forgot to clap twice to turn on the lights.”  Thief is startled, but claps twice.  Nothing happens.  Disembodied voice says, “I’m sorry, I didn’t understand your command.  Please clap twice, slowly.”  Thief claps slowly.  Nothing happens.  “I’m sorry, I didn’t understand your command.  Please clap twice, faster than last time but not too fast.”  Thief claps twice.  Nothing happens.  He claps again faster, then again slower.  Disembodied voice says, “Thank you!   Thank you!  I love the applause!  You like me you really like me.”  Lights remain off.  Thief runs into another chair.  Lights come on.  Siren comes on.  Disembodied voice yells, “Clap twice to turn off alarms and alert police that you are a friendly neighbor just feeding the fish.”

You sit in your cozy motel monitoring the poor thief and are stifling uproarious laughter.  Thief is clapping like crazy to turn off alarms.  Disembodied voice yells, “I’m sorry, did you clap?  I can’t hear it over the cacophony.  Please clap louder.”  Thief runs into laundry room and closes the door.  Washer starts up.  Disembodied voice says, “Maria, you’re early.  You don’t usually start the washer at this time.  Are you under duress?  Maria?  Maria?  If this is not Maria, invisible poison gas will shortly permeate the room and you’ll be dead in 30 seconds.”  Thief runs out the door.  Siren turns off, lights go out, and thief falls over ottoman.  Lights flash on and off. TV turns on and off.  Prerecorded horror movie starts to play.  Washer turns off, radio turns on.  Temperature is slowly climbing to 90 degrees.  Thief is in full blown panic.  He runs for the door.  “House?  Lock all the doors and turn off all lights, close and lock garage door.  Alert police.”  He tries to break the bullet proof windows.  No luck.  He tries to unlock the door, but you are much faster relocking it than he is opening it.  Police will be there in 1 min, turn on siren, turn off lights, turn off appliances.

Police arrive to hear panicked thief begging to be taken out to nice quiet jail cell with 15 crack heads and a biker gang rather than stay in this apparently unassuming, empty house.  Officer 1 turns to Officer 2 and says, “You know, that’s the 5th time this month we’ve had an attempted robbery at this place.”  Officer 2 replies, “and it’s also the 5th time we’ve had the thieves begging to be taken to jail.  Weird huh?”  “Nahhhhhh….”

Don’t let me get a hold of this Smart House ap.  It isn’t safe.

 

Why does it take so looooonnnnnnngggggg?

Broke my hip in August.  10 months.  3 months now without cane or crutches.  My Physical Therapist says, “Try not to walk with a limp.”  OK.  But my injured leg doesn’t come straight up and down when I step on it.  It kinda lists off to one side.  When I walk on the tread mill, my gait is ok, but when I’m done, my right arm is sore.  “Don’t lean on it.”  ok.  “Try not to walk with a limp.”  *puts hand back on handle bars for tread mill.*  “Now that’s good, just take your hand off now.”  *takes hand off*  “Now try not to walk with a limp…”  repeat.

They’re all confused about what to do with my gait.  So they sent me to the shoe store to get better shoes.  I paid $165 for shoes that hurt.  They have a wide sole and a very hard and high arch.  I slide to the outside of the shoe.  (Gravity tends to work that way.  Put something on a hill and it will slide down.)  “Your gait needs improving.  The shoes are fine; you are messed up.”  I have blisters on the tops of my toes on one foot, and the tarsometatarsal joint on the outside of my foot goes out of place if I step on uneven ground.  This is most unpleasant.  Since I was a dance teacher many years ago, I know how to pop it back in, but that doesn’t make it less painful, and it doesn’t solve the problem.

I tripped over a broken hose this morning, and it hurt that foot, and also the thigh on my injured leg.  Here I am at 7:30 AM and my day is already slated to be nasty.  I’m driving through the heavy rain with lightning and thunder, and the guy on the radio says, there’s a better chance for rain (50%!) for tomorrow.  How can a 50% chance of rain be better than the 100% that we have now?  Will it rain more earnestly?  My conclusion is that the day brings what the day brings, and hurting myself 1st thing in the morning does not dictate how the rest of the day will go.

Break through!

This might make the difference!  I want to thank AGoe for this.  She’s such a great blogger and she gives me insight and hope.  When it is put like this, what is it I do most of the time?  I get disgusted with myself and think that it will move me to be successful.  I am trying to hate myself content, happy, with a feeling of accomplishment.  I am trying to criticize myself  better, faster, cleaner, and healthier.  I’m trying to shame myself worthy of people’s attention, respect, friendship, and caring.  Well no WONDER!

Can I blame anyone for this?  What if you’ve been told all your life that everything you are and do are not good enough?  I am good enough!  For a long while, I debated people on these points.    I am just as smart and competent and resourceful and healthy and as good as you are.  Something happened.  I got nothing in encouragement except from my parents, and even then, I got the distinct impression that I was a disappointment to them and they were encouraging and supportive because they had to be.  Eleanor Roosevelt said that no one could make you feel inferior without your consent.  I got tired of arguing and debating, and I got to the point where I thought to myself, “Self?  If EVERYONE tells you the same thing, maybe they’re right.”  So I gave my consent.  I went into a spiral.  Yes, you are right, I’m scum.  No?  Ah, I give scum a bad name.  You’re probably right.  Want me to teach you banjo?  Want me to teach you statistics?  If you’d like to be a millionaire–I can help you.  Oh wait, why would anyone take advice or mentoring/teaching from scum?  Never mind…  I gave up on myself over and over again.  I’d do something really amazing, and everyone would be surprised that that I was capable of that kind of performance.  Then I would find it impossible to capitalize on that performance because I was unworthy of people’s trust and belief.

I need to spiral back up. I will have to leave the self hate, the vicious criticism, and the shame behind.  I have to do what I’ve been teaching students and clients for the last 50 years to do–pat yourself on the back for the things that go right and say “oops” for the things that go wrong.  Use the phrase, “Hmmm, isn’t that interesting?” or “That didn’t go as planned, recalculating!” instead of cussing myself out and reaffirming all the negative things people say to and about me or imply by the eye rolls and the snickers (not the candy bar…I like the snickers candy bars!  :p)  Should be an interesting change in perspective.

I feel better

Two posts ago, I decided that the numbers do not affect how I feel or influence my weight management program.  I found myself really really frustrated that I would eat such and such calories, and expend thus and so energy to controlling my weight and health, and see no benefit.  I was losing practically no weight, and in some cases gaining weight by being diligent in tracking my numbers.  It took an enormous amount of effort (ok, what exactly CAN I eat, and why do I have to spend an hour on the rowing machine to counter act the cinnamon roll I ate in 15 min?!!)  I threw out the numbers and just figured I’d eat sensibly and exercise to feel better and not worry about all those feelings of inadequacy and failure.

Welllllllll, when you do that, it’s like going off road to get to your destination.  I did that once.  We were in an airport in Canada on our way to England for a tour.  There was nothing at the airport we could really afford, being poor college students, so we decided to go to a mall or something to get food.  We didn’t want to take a taxi, and since we had a 7 hour layover…we went cross country to get to what we thought would have something affordable and edible.  We were not dressed properly for this adventure.  It seemed flat and passable and shouldn’t have taken more than 1/2 an hour to traverse.  It wasn’t.  It was rough, and muddy, and by the time we got to where we wanted to go, we were past starving and didn’t care what the prices were.  It defeated the whole purpose.  Then we had to trek back to make our plane.  We had a goal in mind, “It’s right over there!  We can see it!  Why aren’t we there yet?  Boy was THIS a stupid idea!”  We didn’t consult a map, we didn’t call to see what their prices were (no cell phones) and didn’t consider other alternatives such as ordering food and sharing it.  We reached our destination and got back in time to catch our flight, but we didn’t achieve our purpose.

I am back at the point where my back stiffens up when I walk or stand for any amount of time.  I put my arms to sleep when I lie on my back.  I have difficulties getting out of my car.  This doesn’t feel good.  This feels clumsy; this feels annoying; this feels painful.  So I go back to my numbers again.  Then, I had a flash of insight.  You need the numbers like you need signs…14 miles to Cambridge, 20 minutes to work, 2 hours to take this test.  It is to help you gauge your progress.  You are not in pursuit of the numbers, they just tell you where you are.

I know I have to eat sensibly.  I know I should move around some everyday instead of once a week.  The questions that arise are, what did you eat, and how much is available for the rest of the day.  What have you done movement wise today?  Should I set aside a specific number of minutes or a specific activity to do on each day.  It becomes a chore and we all hate chores.  It doesn’t mean you don’t have to clean house or organize stuff for your taxes just because you hate chores.  Things have to get done regardless of how you feel about them.  Oh.

So I went back to my numbers.  I am back on the path…though it is still muddy and rutted and dotted with dog poo.  I lost 3 pounds.

Weak attempts

This last week, my hubby and I went to Las Vegas.  We do not gamble, but we had a conference there, and since it was closer than the last conference they had, we thought we’d go.  We drove to Las Vegas.  Wonderful trip!  15 hours the 1st day and 10 hours the 2nd.  What a shock.  Las Vegas is HOT!  It felt like a convection oven!  In order to save money, we got a “free” hotel if we went for a sales presentation for time shares.  (More about that in a financial blog I think.)  But the conference was good, and the trip was fun.

I had protein-heavy breakfasts, and to get to the locale of the conference, we hopped on a shuttle and then walked about 1/2 a mile or so to the convention hotel, and then another 1/2 mile inside the hotel.  It was BIG!  We had dinner at the convention, and they gave us wayyy too much food, and, *pats self on back* I didn’t eat it all.  Then we hoofed it back through the hotel to the street and then the 1/2 mile back to the shuttle for a ride back to our hotel.  We were fighting travel lag and so Sunday morning, we had a very late breakfast.  We had to go to the sales presentation, but it didn’t make financial sense, so we declined their gracious invitation to buy in.  We had supper then headed back to see the Bellagio Fountains.  That was amazing!   Once more took the shuttle, and walked 1/2 a mile, enjoyed the show, walked back 1/2 a mile.  Now that doesn’t seem like much in the way of exercise, but remember that at 9 PM, it was still about 95 degrees!  Obe was comatose.  Hardly woke up during the whole time we were in Vegas.  Started to come around on the way back, but I had another complication.

Due to the very very dry weather, I had prodigious nose bleeds!  I couldn’t blow my nose, or sneeze, or laugh for that matter, and it would just run!  Ewww.  So when we stopped in OK city for lunch, I was not at all hungry.  Wednesday, same problem.  I had to call in sick because I couldn’t stop bleeding on myself.  I was ok on Thursday though.  Obe wants to make up for lost time and is tempting me with pie and burgers and more pie.  Bad Obe!!!!

2 weeks without trainer… dat dat dahhhhhhhhhh

Sherry is petite.  5’3″ and all muscle, she’s in her 50’s and can do T planks, bicep curls with 40 pound weights, and a whole spin class without breaking a sweat.  She’s sweet.  She feels guilty when the workout she gives me makes me sore.  Lately, due to time restraints and vacations and such, we have taken a break from training.  Of COURSE we were going to continue to log our foods and come in for training.  She wanted an update every Saturday.  We promised we would give our food logs and exercise logs and current weights to her.

“Free at Last!  Free at Last!…”  Haven’t put a foot in the door of the gym for 2 weeks.  Haven’t kept track of anything going into my mouth.  Haven’t weighed myself in a month.  I’m not free.  I’m a slave to my fat.  My fat, which I believe I called Obe, says YOU ARE HUNGRY.  Then he laughs maniacally when I try to find something healthy and end up doing a vacuum cleaner impersonation.  I did a concert last night where I played the drums.  There was no air moving on the stage, and hot lights.  I got that 1 little trickle that runs down your back.  My little trickle didn’t stop there though.  It gathered its buddies and turned into a small brook that ran all the way down my leg!  I was soaked when I got home.  I had a snack of cottage cheese and a fresh peach.  I have to go to the gym today just to weigh if nothing else.  Didn’t walk yesterday–95 degrees and 200% humidity.  I’m wondering if I have to start completely over when I get back into training.  That is so depressing.  At one point, I was down to 187.  I quit going and ballooned up to 215.  I can’t do that again.  That would be stupid.  Obe thinks this is amusing.  I have resolved I am going to get in shape.  Obe says, “Round is a shape…” and then he giggles.  I am going to get down and STAY down below 200 pounds.  Obe says, “You could have your husband sit on you.”  Obe is laughing so hard he has tears in his navel.  I hate Obe.

Any psychologist reading this would say I was devolving, and having delusions.  I might even have a multiple personality developing.  He’d ask, solicitously, “and how are we feeling?”  and we’d reply, “We have no idea how you and your personalities feel, but one of mine is confused and angry and another wants to beat the snot out of you.  Obe thinks this is hilarious.  He asks why I haven’t named the others in his crew.”  “Shut up Obe!”