the food & do daily

first week back at the gym

My very first day — just this past Monday — feels like ages ago. And while I only got to the Y three times this week (and never ventured beyond the elliptical machine for 20- to 35-minute bursts) I *will* celebrate the fact that I went at all. I *will* celebrate that I’ve started taking some notes on ways to motivate myself to get back.

gym notes.

» i think these old guys must know a thing or two. Patrick and I moved away from Roanoke four years ago, at which time I’d had a membership to this very YMCA, on-and-off for several years. My best runs were probably when I attended with my friend Melizza. Mela and I were roommates, and we were great motivation for each other to do good … or to indulge (Mela, do you remember Sunday morning pancakes in that yellow kitchen?! I do. With syrup, and me trying to do the crossword).

In any case, when we went, we saw the same guys over and over. Doing the same exercises. Making the same jokes. Smiling, as I recall.

So I go to the gym this past Monday morning at 5:30, and I see no fewer than four of those same guys, plus a lady or two who looked familiar. Same exact ones. Dressed the same. Same smiles, same machines.

And do you know that it was only in that moment that I realized I’m going to have to look at this fitness lifestyle as *lifelong*? It’s something I’d kind of known. Something I’ve heard people say. Something I’m sure I’ve said before. But it was in seeing those same faces, years later and still at it, that I knew it deeply. My first week back wasn’t stellar, but it was just the first of what will apparently be very, very many.

» music. I let Patrick do technology things for me. So I let him fill my iPod shuffle last Sunday night before my first return to the gym.

Well, no offense to my lovely husband, but it was silly of me to put something so personal in someone else’s hands. Because once I started on my elliptical Monday morning I realized all I wanted was the latest Girl Talk album, streamed front-to-back … and Patrick’s a shuffle-lover. He’s a random-music fan. And do you know that my lazy ass didn’t remedy this until today, after my most recent trip the gym?

I ended up frustrated every morning I went. What happens is that the randomness of the music makes for varied tempos, which makes for me being variably motivated to move fast (or not fast at all), or to get so into the music that I forget how hard I’m working on the machine (which is what happens when the right song comes on).

Next week I look forward to a consistent, pounding workout accompanied by Girl Talk (and maybe a little Big Boi, cool down to Sufjan or Grizzly Bear).

» walking the track. It’s not particularly strenuous. OK. It’s not strenuous. At all. But it’s time for me to nestle gently into my thoughts. To be quiet and slow but moving. It’s peaceful, is what it is. And it’s nice. Ten minutes is all I need.

» getting my shit together, the night before. This is no surprise, but it’s important: If I stack my gym clothes and headphones in a neat pile; if I make my lunch the night before; if I know what I’m going to wear to work … I’m much more likely to get to my mind wrapped around the idea of heading to the gym at 5:30 in the morning.

mission! Get to the gym four times next week, not three. Do at least 45 minutes on the elliptical each trip, if I don’t also add some weight-lifting. Wear my heart-rate monitor every visit so I can get an accurate reading of my workout (as well as establish a way to mark my progress).

since last we met

… I’ve done some good things!

(list!)

• list item one
• list item two
• list item three

> I cleared out my digital spaces. Gmail: empty. Google docs: streamlined & organized. Facebook friends: edited. Google Reader subscriptions: improved! All these pieces of data float, they’re weightless. But they tax my mind so much when they’re not meaningful, organized, utilized.

E-mail, for instance: I was using it to hold on to information (passwords, recipes, etc.). But I never actually searched my e-mail archives for those things regularly. And in any case, is that really what e-mail should be for? I mean, would I keep a big bucket in my house to store every piece of mail I got, just in case I’d need to refer to it? No, I’d level some importance on each piece of mail, and then *do* something with it. So that’s that. My e-mail *must* remain a weigh station until I figure out the usefulness of any given piece of correspondence, and then *act* on that usefulness.

> I signed up for the gym! I had my choice of a free gym membership in the town where I work (through my husband’s employer, who’s based in Blacksburg even though he works from Roanoke … where we live), or I could get a reduced membership at a gym where I live (though *my* employer, who’s based in Roanoke even though I work in the Blacksburg area. Ha!).

I love to save a buck, but the Blacksburg gym would have meant me adding to my commute (which is already 3 hours total every day), and carefully coordinating my (sometimes unpredictable) work schedule to make sure I get to that gym before it closes. Too many obstacles. And I’m honest enough with myself to know that I’ll use things like long commutes to excuse skipping my workout.

So it’s a membership at my Roanoke gym instead. And in fact, it’s a gym I attended when we lived here four years ago. Home sweet home.

> I went to the gym! It only took me about two weeks longer than it should have to actually sign up for the gym, so I was kind of proud of myself for waking up this morning and taking advantage of my membership immediately. 5 a.m. alarm. To the gym by 5:30. Thirty minutes on an ellipticalmadoohicky. Back home. It was short and sweet, and ultimately I want to *get* to the gym by 5 a.m., but I told myself I’d ease into it. Better I start slow and gain traction than start with a high bar and feel like I’m falling short.

> I tracked my Weight Watchers points all week. It took a little bit of effort, especially on the weekend when we took a great day trip to Charlottesville, Va., and I had to remember all my food choices. But I did it. And I was honest. And I was only 2 points over for the week. When I get on the right track with food, I know I’m in for a string of even *more* healthy decisions. So yay!

> I pre-tracked my breakfast and lunch for today. I’ve always found this helpful, and almost necessary to set up good food habits throughout the week. Not to mention that I can usually find a time to pre-track, but by the end of a day of looking *back* on food I ate and trying to record it, I find myself full of excuses for not doing it. Which tends to lead to more days of not tracking, which eventually leads to days of not actually making the smart food choices that tracking helps me focus on.

So, a pretty great start to the week. …

… *ahem* after this confession

My husband planned a pretty amazing weekend for us. I even drafted a sweet blog entry about how wonderful he is and what a productive Saturday and Sunday we had ahead of us …

And then I got in a crabby, crabby mood on Saturday. And it carried over into Sunday. This happened last weekend, too. And either I *hate* the weekends (???), or there’s something else going on. And I think I may have identified it: Saturday morning breakfast.

It should be a treat, right? First day of repose, lazy morning … “good” breakfast! Of … donuts! (It’s good because it’s delicious. Uhuh.)

But yeah, sugar in the morning … hell no more. Hell. No. More. Because I think it’s crashing my spirits right into the ground. Poor husband! He really did have a great weekend planned, and we ended up doing most of the things we intended to: drive to Charlottesville, with a stop at a brew-pub on the way (here’s his review of Blue Mountain Brewery); and then good coffee & walkin’ our sweet dog through C’ville. And there I was, pouting. Boooooo.

In any case, it’s a lesson for my future breakfast: if anything, I’ll make it bacon. Hold the sugar.

Friday breakfast. Yum.

my bentos →

If I get my bentos … when I get my bentos … I hope they are these bentos. Classy, compact, organized, food!

list blog: treating myself

I think people who know me *very* well know that I’m not very good at treating myself to gifts, or even necessaries. I might even have some kind of a … thing … about it. I usually find an excuse why I don’t need / shouldn’t have / can live without something.

But you know what? That has *got* to change. I don’t know why exactly, I just know there’s something about it that’s wrong. Maybe it’s as simple as holding myself in high enough regard to say I deserve something, even if it is mildly frivolous (though I’m not one for frivolity in general).

And here we come to a new list. A list of things I’ve thought in passing that I’d love to have. I’m gonna keep this on hand and refer to it on occasion, perhaps especially on occasions that I think I’ve accomplished something important, big or small.

things i want!

» new boots (Frye, please? Though I don’t know that they make them quite big enough to fit over my calves.)

» flats! (Really, most of my shoes are cheapy Target buys that are totally adorable but that do no stand up to my whole shoe-wearing strategy, which is where them the hell out.)

» nice, matching towels for our bathroom

» a manicure & pedicure (just once!)

» frames for some of our lingering Knoxville art

» aveda skin care (especially eye cream. I’m getting old, y’all)

» tights (oy, the runs in the ones I have now!)

» new gym attire … this should probably float at the top of my list. I really, really want nice gym clothes. And to look extra cute in it.

» bento boxes! I’m doing a good job of taking healthy lunches to work. I’d like to make them cuter and more organized with these magic little systems. (these vivo bentos are my favorite so far!)

I’ll add to this list as I think of more things, which I tend to do throughout any given day. Kinda can’t wait for my first big (or small) accomplishment!

So simple. I love to dice a mango (skin on, which lends a bitter, grassy flavor), sea-salt it, eat it, done. Delicious.