Thursday, May 30, 2013

Ride or Die!

There are different types of friends.  Friends run the gamut from mere associates to forever friends.  From Facebook friends to the kind of friend who would bail you out of jail (unless he/she was in the cell next to you ).  The best friends in the world are “ride or die” friends. Urbandictionary.com defines these individuals as “the people in your life who are there through thick and thin. They'll do what it [takes] to make it through with you. The ones that'll stick it through ‘till the end.’”  In recovery, as well as in any healthy life’s journey, we need ride or die type friends.

There came a point in my quest for total health where I found out who my real friends were.  I had been in recovery for more than three years.  I was still struggling, but still hanging in there.  I had a small circle of friends who I thought had my best interest at heart. Unfortunately, it took a special day in my life to find out the truth. 
 
I’ve always wondered why birthdays mean so much to me.  After all, it’s just the day I slithered into the world, the last of eleven children (we think).  Is it society that implants the subliminal message that people are supposed to give a rat’s butt about the day you were born?   Is it a subconscious need for attention?  I really don’t know, but unfortunately, I’ve never shaken it.  I can’t figure out why.  As a child, my parents couldn’t afford to have me a party.  Having food to eat and clothes to wear was a little more important (I’m not being snarky; it’s true).  The only birthday party I was ever invited to when I was a kid was a nightmare.  When I turned 15, I tried to have myself a party…no comment on what a catastrophe that turned out to be.  My mantra after that was, “screw this mess!”  I sincerely tried not to care about birthdays after that.  When I turned 18, it’s was only a few days after I graduated from high school, so I was still riding on that high.  Year 21 didn’t mean anything because I’d drank more alcohol before it was legal than I ever have since becoming “of age.”  Year 30 was a blur because it’s the same year I had my tonsils out (strep, surgery, and drugs, OH MY! )  But then last year came year 40.  Oh dear.
 
For some reason, I thought that year 40 would be my year.  I’d finally started making decisions that were more beneficial to my health.  Like I said, I was still struggling, but felt like I was on my way.  The day before my birthday, a friend from church took me out to an early dinner and I was to get together with some other friends afterwards.  Dinner was scrumptious.  As I headed out to meet with my other friends, I felt so special—like one of the cool kids.  Sigh.  Why do I do this to myself?
 
Have you ever seen an intervention?  No, I’m not talking about a Dr. Phil intervention; I mean a real one.  It is my understanding that an intervention is set up because a loved one (i.e.: someone you care about the health and safety of) is harming himself in some way.  Whether it’s an abusive relationship or some sort of substance abuse, an intervention is supposed to be a loving meeting to let the loved one know what harm their choices are producing, to instill in them that they need help, and to give them the comfort of knowing that they have people in their corner.  Kind of like Galatians 1:6 (King James Version) – “Brethren, if a man be overtaken in a fault, ye which are spiritual, restore such an one in the spirit of meekness; considering thyself, lest thou also be tempted.”  Well, that ain’t what I got.  What was supposed to be a joyous time of fellowship turned in to a cartload of crap!
 
First of all, I already knew and acknowledged that I was a food addict and was getting help, so I didn’t see the point of this in the first place.  Second, I found it rather tacky (that’s the nicest word I could write down) to mess with me the day before my birthday.  Third, their entire premise and motive was wrong.  Here’s how it went.  My “friends” gathered together to let me know that (1) they thought I was suicidal, (2) they didn’t support my being a part of Celebrate Recovery, and (3) I was too honest about my struggles and that my honesty was making them look bad.  Stop! Hammer time…
 
Now, let’s see, you don’t support my honesty about my struggles?  O…K.  Any of you who’ve read my blog since its inception know that it started out slightly different than its present form, but that I always endeavored to be open and honest.  Jeremiah 6:14 says (Living Bible), “You can’t heal a wound by saying it’s not there.”   These people took my honesty as a personal challenge instead of a real person with real problems working through real answers and helping others in the process.  I was told “You know, people will use what you’ve said against you to hurt you.”  But wait, isn’t that the risk you take with any relationship, cyber or not?  I needed to take the risk so that I would know that it was O.K. for my voice to be heard, and to know that it was being heard by SOMEBODY!  I’d gone through years of being the squeaky wheel that got no grease.  This was my out; this was my release point; this was a way that I knew the joy of helping or encouraging at least one person with genuine honesty.  But, that’s a no-no!  It’s a heck of thing to find out your friends are ashamed of you.
 
Next, you don’t support my being a part of Celebrate Recovery?  For those who don’t know what CR is (because I haven’t explained it very well, sorry).  Celebrate Recovery is a Christ-centered 12-step program that uses the same recovery steps as the various “anonymous” groups.  The difference is that our steps and principles are Bible-based, and we are allowed to openly worship God and acknowledge Jesus Christ as our higher power.  Now, if my friends had not been professing Christians, this revelation of non-support wouldn’t have been a shock to me.  I asked them why they didn’t support it.  Their answer?  “Well, I wouldn’t go.”  God didn’t tell you to go; he told me to go.  “Well, it doesn’t seem to be doing you any good.”  Now, you’ve lost your mind.  Do you know where I would be if it hadn’t been for CR?  Do you really?
 
Why do I get the feeling that I’m in the presence of Job’s counselors?  Now you know WHY they thought I was suicidal. 
 
I made the mistake of doing what many co-dependents do; I acquiesced.  The deal was that I would hang around long enough to get my 4-year chip in July and then I would totally walk away from CR for six months.  Then we’d reassess the situation.  The caveat was that they were to be there to fill what was lacking.  “Oh yeah,” they said.  ”We’ll be there for you.  We’ll love you and pray for you.  Sure, we’ll take good care of you.”  They promised they would be “ride or die” friends.  Anybody want to guess what happened?   They didn’t ride; they died.  Once I was completely out of CR, they had what they wanted.  They were even more distant than before.  It was three months of misery, loneliness, depression and emptiness. 
 
Again, I picked up the chant of “screw this mess!” and I made drastic changes.  I jumped back into CR with both feet and found me some REAL “Ride or Die” friends.  Now, it’s not that I don’t still love my other friends or that I don’t own my part of the collapse of our friendship.  It’s just that I can’t “do recovery” with them.  We can talk about surface stuff, but anything of a deep emotional nature must be avoided for my emotional health and to keep them from feeling ashamed. 
 
Today is my 41st birthday—exactly one year since this crap happened. I felt that I needed to talk about this because for one thing, somebody reading this may be going through something similar.  Yes, it’s hard, but you are worth having people in your life who have your well being in mind and who will also get in your face and tell you when you’re wrong or need to change.  I also needed to talk about this because I’m dealing with fear today.  My new “Ride or Die” friends have gotten together to take me out for a birthday dinner tonight.  I’m very afraid that I’m going to cause a repeat of last year.  This has NOTHING to do with my friends.  This has EVERYTHING to do with me.  I suffer with waiting-for-the-other-shoe-to-drop syndrome.  Y’all pray now.  I want to enjoy this birthday.
 
UPDATE: The birthday dinner was great.  Laughter, Mexican food, and cute guys singing to me in Spanish...oh yeah!
 
 
 
 

Wednesday, May 29, 2013

Wednesday Hodgepodge: Trying Something New

Got this from Jhona O and her awesome blog and thought I would give it a try.  It's called Wednesday Hodgepodge:

What question do you often ask yourself?

I often ask the question “Why?”  I don’t ask it of God as an accusation.  I ask it mostly of my own psyche:  “Why are you thinking this way?”  “Why do you feel that way?”  “Why did I do that?”  I ask it because I want to fix a problem.  I know co-dependent right?  Second runner up question is “What the heck?!”

Do you grow roses? What's your favorite color of rose? Ever been given a dozen roses? Where was the prettiest rose or rose garden you remember seeing?

Yes, I grow roses.

Pink or red roses are my favorite.

No, I’ve never been given a dozen roses.

My mom actually has the prettiest rose garden.  However, my own roses are starting to catch up with hers. See....
 
 


Do you read the freshness dates on grocery store products? Will you use eggs past their 'use by' date? Take medication that's expired? Buy a dented can?

Yes, I read the freshness dates on the grocery store products I know have a freshness date.  With that said, I didn’t know that eggs had a use by date.  I guess I just use them in a timely manner.  Some meds I will use even if they expired (this stuff’s expensive).  I do not buy dented cans.

Should athletes be role models?

I think everyone should strive to be good role models, not just athletes.  I think sometimes athletes, like actors or musicians, get put on too high of a pedestal.  We often forget that these are real people too with real pain and real flaws.  Now, don’t get me wrong, if someone is deliberately acting a fool and does not even remotely want to change, they need to get themselves together.  Someone who makes a mistake and is working to try to correct it needs to be encouraged, not berated.

Edmund Hillary of New Zealand and Tenzing Norgay of Nepal became the first explorers to reach the top of Mt. Everest on this date (May 29th) back in 1953. What's something you hope to achieve in your lifetime?

I hope to earn my Doctorate in Theology.

I don’t know if this is considered an “achievement’ but I would like to be a wife and mother someday.  If the wife part doesn’t happen, I would like to adopt children.

After seeing Gary Sinise and the Lt. Dan Band in concert, I would really like to use my musical and speaking gifts on the USO tours.  Of course, I’ll have to become famous first…never mind.

What would you do if you had twenty acres of land and the money to develop it any way you choose?

My 20 acres would need to be in southern California not in LA, but near it.  I would build my dream house and gardens.  Have my own walking/bicycle path on the grounds.  Have a separate building for my arts and crafts.  I would want to find some way to help people with it (maybe a community garden).  Not sure about the rest.

If I invite you to a party with a 7 PM start time, what time will I actually see you there?

If I’m driving, I’ll be on time.  If I riding with someone else, I would hope that they would be on time, but I’m not in control of that.

Insert your own random thought here.

A quote:  "My book on anger management would be called 'Shut Up!' with a sequel, 'No, You Shut Up!'" - Craig Ferguson

Monday, May 27, 2013

Auntie vs. Burger King

“It is easier to build strong children than to repair broken men.”  - Frederick Douglass

“Death and life are in the power of the tongue…”  Proverbs 18:21

            When I was a kid, making friends did not come easily and getting invited anywhere was a real treat.  Of course, my being the fat kid with the thick glasses was a big deterrent for most of my peers. Fortunately, although I remember a lot of the horrid events of my childhood, I don’t remember who most of the perpetrators were.  So, if you are the kid I’m talking about here, don’t worry about it; I don’t remember who you were.  Unfortunately, one of these horrid events involved a major fast food chain.

            I was around 8 or 9 years old and one of my classmates had a birthday party at our local Burger King and I, surprisingly, was on the guest list.  I was so excited about being invited and allowed to go.  I finally felt like I belonged.  The feeling didn’t last long.

            I rode to the party with my one “bosom” friend (yeah, I’m a fan of Anne of Green Gables).  She went in first, and the birthday girl, who was standing with her mother to welcome everyone, was overjoyed at her arrival.  Her countenance completely changed when she saw me.  Her smile disappeared, her face went from angelic cream to purely pissed-off puce, and she stomped her foot at her mom, pointed at me, and said, “I told you I didn’t want her here!” 

            Before I go any further with this, I need to rant for a moment.  Anyone who tells a child “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me” needs to be hung up by his feet and used as a piñata!  That statement is a LIE!  Let me tell you from experience, I would much rather have been beaten up more, and endured the hateful words of others less.  Physical wounds heal much faster than emotional ones.  OK, rant over.

            Anyway, the girl’s mom calmly explained to her that she had invited the whole class, but she would have none of it.  They continued to argue and I grew increasingly uncomfortable.  Somehow, I got to stay, but the birthday girl made me wish I hadn’t.  Knowing that I didn’t see well, she sat me as far away from everyone and everything as she could, and her mom let her.  I didn’t get to enjoy watching her blow out her birthday candles or open her presents.  Participation in the fun and games with the other children was, of course, frowned upon.  I sat alone.  I ate alone.  This was the first time in living memory that I ever cried and ate. Y’all, that is one of the most miserable feelings for anyone, overweight or not. 

            This event so traumatized me that I couldn’t eat at Burger King anymore.  As an adult, I was obligated to eat there once (someone else was buying and insisted we eat there, so I gave in).  I literally went in the  bathroom and cried before I could eat anything and then I ate with a knot in my belly the whole time. 

            I know you’re probably thinking, “Why does any of this matter?  You don’t need to be eating fast food anyway!”  They DO have grilled chicken AND that’s not the point.  The point is this:  the Apostle Paul said in First Corinthians chapter six that he would not be mastered by anything except the Holy Spirit.  This memory had mastered me; it had put me in subjection to my fear and pain, and caused me to miss precious fellowship with people.  I’d turned down several invitations to hang out with my friends because they were eating “there.”  Many of my friends from Celebrate Recovery worked at Burger King; I missed fun times of seeing them outside of recovery meetings because of the bad memories.  This mess was on the list of stupid crap I needed to be free from (yes, driving on the interstate is on the list too, but let’s not get crazy). 

            About a month ago, my sister and I were running errands in Anniston and she suggested we eat lunch at Burger King.  She had no idea of my issue, plus, I wanted to deal with this anyway.  As we sat down to eat, all the painful memories flooded my mind and I wanted to run to the car, go home, and curl up in my bed into the fetal position.  Instead, I took a deep breath, asked God for help, started talking and laughing with my sister, and had a wonderful time.  Without knowing it, my sister gave me a chance to make new fun memories associated with Burger King instead of being mastered by the pain of being a broken soul.  Seems such a small thing, but it may be a catalyst to conquering larger issues.

Burger King: 1  Auntie: 1

Are there any small mountains in your life that you need to conquer in order to face the big ones?

Thursday, May 23, 2013

A Different Kind of Running.

I was going through and organizing some of my old files when I found this post from an old blog I had:

12/31/10 – Lesson in dead plants
I had a day off today, so I just tooled around the apartment. I finally dealt with the thing I had been ignoring. It’s been staring me in the face for weeks; all the dead plants on my porch. If you know me at all, you know I love flowers and plants. Every change of season for the past 15 years, I have painstakingly brought the ever-increasing menagerie of flora inside and placed them in strategic (and not-so-strategic) places in the apartment during the cold months, then bring them all back out again when the weather warmed up. This year, I was so worn out at beaten down that all but a few choice plans were left out to dry up and die.
Today, I dumped out all the dead plants and old dirt (most of this was yard clay, not potting soil), cleaned the porch, and cleaned out the pots in the yard where I plant annuals (petunias and impatiens in the summer; pansies in the winter). In the midst of spring cleaning in January, it hit me. The state of these plants represents my life for the past year (no, I'm not getting into tree hugging, so relax). All the things that I once cared about, the things in my life that were beautiful, the hopes and dreams I’ve carried for years; I’ve left them out in the cold to dry up and die. I’ve only saved a few choice good things in my life to care about and even they don’t get enough attention (like the few plants I did bring in). But just like the buds coming out on my Christmas cactus, God is showing me that all is not lost and I can recapture the life He intended for me.
This spring, I will be starting over with my plants. I won’t have nearly the number I had before, but they will be well cared for and flourish. They will be things I like, not just other people’s cast offs (which isn’t bad——that’s how I got the Christmas cactus). I’m sitting down now setting real goals for this coming year. I didn’t set any last year; I just didn’t care and I let life just happen. So, for 2011, there will be fewer things to crowd out what isn’t important. I will live with purpose and on purpose.
My theme for this year is RLH –– Run Like Hell! Sounds kind of crude, but I’m running way from all things, people, and places that aren’t conducive to my spiritual, physical, mental, and financial health. Running towards what is productive and beautiful. If I don’t make these changes, I cannot effectively help anyone else.  It will be a challenge and a drastic change from the way I have been living. I hope you all will join on this journey with me. I hope you will all remember that I am NOT perfect (and for the record never said I was). I will make mistakes. I will fall down, but I need you all to be there to help me up. I don’t want to be the person in the fourth chapter of Ecclesiastes : For if they fall, the one will lift up his fellow: but woe to him that is alone when he falleth; for he hath not another to help him up (Verse 10).
It’s taken a couple of years, but since I wrote that, I have made several changes and continue to uproot the bad in my life and try to replace it with the good, the beautiful, and the loving.

I share this with you because I’m about to make more changes; some small, some not so small.  Just like before, it will take time.  Please be patient as I may not be spending quite as much time on social media as I once did.  Not a total disconnect from it, but just stepping back a bit.  I’ve got establish a life where I am in face-to-face contact with real people more than waiting for the ping of a tweet or e-mail to be human.  Social media is wonderful and I’ll probably never give it up, but it is not a substitute for the real.  Getting a hug through e-mail is not the same as getting a real hug from a flesh and blood person.  Actually, this stepping back will probably mean more consistent blog posts from me.  Yeah, I know that sounds backwards and weird, but for me it makes perfect sense.  J

Mini Me: The Simple Woman's Daybook for Thursday, May 23, 2013

Outside my window …  Birds singing, my windchimes playing their song, and the smell of roses and honeysuckle in the air.

I am thinking...  about summer.  I want it to be a good one.  I survived winter, but I really don’t want to merely survive anything else.

I am thankful... for the ability to read.

In the kitchen...  Beef stir fry with some Brussels sprouts.  I am really enjoying my “new found” food.

I am wearing...
Celebrate Recovery t-shirt and Capri pants.

I am creating... Got several crochet projects going, plus I’ve got a few ideas for painted flower pots.

I am going... To the gym later (I need a nap before I go).

I am wondering...
about myself (as usual J )

I am reading...
Sunday School materials.  I started a new book by Dr. Henry Cloud today called 9 Things You Simply Must Do.  The first couple of chapters left me dumbfounded.  Ever since December, I have felt stuck in one place.  I’m learning ever so slowly how to get unstuck.

I am hoping...
that I’ll have a good week next week.

I am looking forward to... a better mindset.

I am learning… that survival is no way to live.

Around the house... A few chores.

I am pondering...   on how to live out my Christian life the way Jesus showed us how.  I’ve seen that we’ve had this whole thing quite backwards for a long time.  I’ve seen a lot of hate going on and much of it perpetrated by people who label themselves “Christians.”  I’ve also seen a lot of disagreements being misinterpreted as hate.  Since when does disagreeing with someone mean that I hate them?  Could we PLEASE get it together, people?

A favorite quote for today... “Avoidance of risk is the greatest risk of all.” - Dr. Henry Cloud

One of my favorite things... Those papery-blog things called books.  J

A few plans for the rest of the week:  I have no idea.

A peek into my day...  Auntie's "mini me" (my grandniece Kelviona) graduated from kindergarten this week. 
 
 
If you would like to join in and post your own Daybook, please head on over to visit Peggy at The Simple Woman's Daybook (http://thesimplewomansdaybook.blogspot.com/) . Thanks for stopping by. Y'all come back now, ya' hear. :)

Wednesday, May 22, 2013

Mind Your Business!

Matthew 7:1-2 - Don’t pick on people, jump on their failures, criticize their faults--unless, of course, you want the same treatment. That critical spirit has a way of boomeranging. (MSG)
 
Pulling into the parking lot, I see the nice cars lined up in the spaces; some with the little stick figure family decals (which I think are tacky simply because they are of no use to me).  Many of the vehicles even sport a bicycle rack (oh hoity toity).  I gaze at the well manicured grounds, smell the fresh paint, and hear the music coming from inside.  I think, “Oh Lord, what am I doing here?  I don’t belong here.”  Hesitantly, I step through the front door.  I’m greeted in the foyer by faces; some smiling, some looking like they’ve been sucking on a sour pickle for 14 years.  Sigh.  I haven’t even said good morning, and the analysis has started already.”  Timidly, I go into the crowded main room.  Those familiar with the routine are exchanging pleasantries, giving a quick smile and nod my way.  A few more “pickles” are puckering up and nodding my way as if to say “What is SHE doing here?!  This is OUR place!  Who does she think she is?!”  I try to ignore their stares.  With shaking hands I hang up my jacket, pop in my headphones, and step onto the treadmill.  And so, the fight begins.

I’ve often heard it said that a church is the most judgmental place on earth.  Unfortunately, that is true in some cases.  However, I believe that the gym is an even more judgmental place.  Why?  Many of us grew up hearing others constantly tell us that we didn’t match up to their standards of physical perfection (classmates, teachers, parents, siblings, etc).  Hollywood parades the perky, perfect, plumped up, painted up, air brushed, photoshopped, surgitized, digitized models of “natural” perfection.  All this while trying to convince us that these people look and stay fabulous by eating cheese curls, drinking beer, and taking Viagra (pass the Cheetos please.  You can keep the rest of it.  J).  We’re used to that constant barrage of judgment.  Now, let’s add to that our inner dialogue of relentless self scrutiny.  Let’s go even deeper still, and add to that our own guilty pleasure of picking apart the moves of others at the gym.  See if any of this sounds familiar:

What the heck is she wearing?
Man, I’m a girl and I can leg press more than that!
Quit laying all over it; it’s a treadmill, not a Lay-z-Boy!
Oh, please.  If I can run, I know you can walk faster than THAT.
Clean up after yourself; your mama does NOT work here!

And on it goes until we’ve successfully torn everyone in the room completely apart. Feel superior now? 

Why do we do this?  Why is it not cool to be judged so harshly, but we feel perfectly justified in looking down on others?  Because deep down, we are really trying to stifle our own screaming shortcomings and failures.   If we can convince ourselves that others are not doing as well as we are, then we can hide our own defects and give ourselves the grace that we also need to freely give to others.  Another reason we do this is because we secretly think that others are thinking the same things about us.

What do I mean?  Well, let’s analyze a couple of my examples from earlier:

What is she wearing?  If I judge someone else on what she is wearing in the gym, then I don’t have to look at my own shabby, old as dirt, too big to be wearing outfit with embarrassment.

Man, I’m a girl and I can leg press more than that!  Yeah, Wonder Woman’s legs look super pressing 130 pounds (insert athletic grunt here), but they don’t look so hot trying unsuccessfully to figure out Zumba moves (insert cuss word here).

Clean up after yourself; your mama does NOT work here!  OK, OK, OK, people really SHOULD clean up after themselves, but in all honesty, giving them the stinky eye is not going to make them pick up a towel and clean their sweaty ooze off the machine.  Just go to the machine, say “eww” (no, don’t do that J ) and clean it up…and then be sure to be a good example and clean up your own ooze.

Second Corinthians 10:12 says, “Not that we [have the audacity to] venture to class or [even to] compare ourselves with some who exalt and furnish testimonials for themselves! However, when they measure themselves with themselves and compare themselves with one another, they are without understanding and behave unwisely” (Amplified Version).  So, what’s the cure for the judgmental/critical thought pattern?  Three little words:  MIND YOUR BUSINESS.  The owner of the hair salon I used to frequent used to say this whenever any of the “Sister Bucket Mouths” started gossiping—a bunch of women gossiping, imagine that.  Anyway, wherever someone started to spout off some not-so-kind and usually not-so-true words about anyone, she’d stop them in their tracks and say, “Now, mind your business.”  Even the Bible tells us to mind our own business in First Thessalonians, chapter four, verse eleven.  When I find myself turning into the gym’s “Sister Bucket Mouth,” I say to myself (sometimes out loud—yeah I know I’m weird) “Hey, mind your business!”  Works every time.

In what areas do you need to “mind your business”?

Saturday, May 18, 2013

Splish Splash: The Simple Woman's Daybook for Saturday, May 18, 2013

Outside my window … The day started with rain and flash floods.  Now, a blue sky with fluffy clouds is the backdrop for the singing birds.  Also, my roses are blooming, and my daylilies are tuning up to bloom.

I am thinking...
 about what a good day it has been.  I haven’t had a lot of good days lately, so I am most thankful to have one.

I am thankful... for a good day and a Savior who loves me.

In the kitchen...
 I’ve been noshing on fruits and veggies.  I’m not sure what’s for dinner yet.

I am wearing...
Sweats.

I am creating... working on several crochet projects.  I’m still priming the pump of creativity.
 
I am going... not sure yet.

I am wondering...
about my future.

I am reading...
nothing today.

I am hoping...
that life will get good and stay good.

I am looking forward to...
my birthday and breaking the “wall of 40.”

I am learning
… that there is an athlete inside me somewhere.

Around the house... A little tidying up.

I am pondering...   on figuring out how I can get some more medical things done that I need done.

A favorite quote for today...
As I run in ankle-deep puddles by the water station at the 5k today with glasses so wet I couldn’t see:  “Hey, I think it’s raining.”  Nah, (insert smart butt comment here). Here’s your sign.  J

One of my favorite things... Bubble Yum bubble gum.

A few plans for the rest of the week:  Church tomorrow.  Sav-A-Life on Monday.  My grandniece, Kelviona graduates from kindergarten Tuesday, so I hope I get to attend.

A peek into my day...  Had an awesome thing happen this week.  I got blessed with the fee to run the local Lion’s Club 5k for Sight.  The run was today.  This run was officially timed, not just “I think ran it in about 45 minutes.”  My time was 46:58, my personal best.  Yay! 

 

If you would like to join in and post your own Daybook, please head on over to visit Peggy at The Simple Woman's Daybook (http://thesimplewomansdaybook.blogspot.com/) . Thanks for stopping by. Y'all come back now, ya' hear. :)

Thursday, May 9, 2013

Auntie vs. Zumba

Now, y’all know that sometimes I have ADD tendencies…hey look, a squirrel... so, I try to switch up my workouts to keep from getting bored.  A couple of years ago, I went with a classmate of mine to a Zumba class.  I didn’t even know what Zumba was, but she assured me that it would be fun.  It wasn’t.  It was a disaster.  The “instructor” silently came in, cranked up the music, turned her back to the class (perfect for instruction—smell the sarcasm?), and proceeded to bump and grind for an hour without any explanation or anything.  I hated every minute of the “workout,” but wasn’t too damaged by it because we swam earlier and got in some real exercise.   I immediately put Zumba on my workout “dookie list.”

In case any of you don’t know what Zumba is, Wikipedia describes it as:

Zumba involves dance and aerobic elements. Zumba's choreography incorporates hip-hop, soca, samba, salsa, merengue, mambo, martial arts, and some bollywood and belly dance moves. Squats and lunges are also included
(Oh yeah, this has Auntie written all over it.  J)

Fast forward to a few months ago.  I’m on the upstairs walking track at the gym and notice that a few ladies from my church were dropping it like it’s hot in the Zumba class downstairs.  So, me being who I am, I started heckling them.  And because we’re all silly, they heckled me back.  Over the weeks, they tried to convince me that I would love Zumba and I tried to convince them that they were CRAZY.  Oh, but it looks like such fun and they TOLD me the instructor would be different from the one I’d dealt with earlier.  So, this Monday, I gave in.  Oh, (insert expletive of choice here)!

OK, to be fair, the instructor was slightly different from the other one.  She was friendly, she did face us and she did call out what move was next (even though I couldn’t understand her).  However, that’s about the only positive things I can say about my experience.  She didn’t explain any of the moves ahead of time, or at the least slow them down for the newbies (O.K. me).  It was an hour of me marching in place and turning in the direction I saw everyone else was already in (insert another expletive here).  No matter how hard I tried, I could not follow her (or anyone else for that matter).  I was literally in tears by the time it was over.  My friends felt bad, but it’s not their fault.  Unless someone can point me to a good Zumba DVD or the instructor has a “short bus” version of this class, this workout is a NO!

Zumba 1, Auntie 0.

Saturday, May 4, 2013

Never Going Back: The Simple Woman's Datebook for Saturday, May 4, 2013

Embedded image permalinkOutside my window … Scottish winter is back in Alabama and I hear “Dixie” being played on the bagpipes.

I am thinking...
 about the weather.  It was in the low 70’s yesterday.  It’s a rainy 48 degrees today.

I am thankful...
for how well my share time went at Celebrate Recovery last night.  Here's the audio:

https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/u/29899706/Inventory.mp3

In the kitchen...
 Going to try a couple of new dishes tonight; pepper steak and sautéed Brussels sprouts.  I’ve never had Brussels sprouts before and decided to try them.  I’ve also never made pepper steak before.

I am wearing...
Celebrate Recovery t-shirt and black pants.

I am creating...
still working on the crocheted floral wreath.

I am going... nowhere today—too rainy.  Going to church tomorrow.  Sav-a-life on Monday.  Not sure about the rest of the week yet.

I am wondering...
about an incident that happened to me recently.  It kind of set me off in the wrong direction and I’m still recovering for it.  Weird.  It was totally innocuous but my psyche didn’t think so.  I’m stronger than I used to be, but these kind of mini mental breakdowns are getting on my nerves.

I am reading... Sunday School materials.  We're studying I and II Timothy and Titus.  Great stuff.

I am hoping...
that I’ll have a breakthrough or two very soon.

I am looking forward to...
the change of schedule for my church.  During the summer, we are going to one Sunday service at 11:00 and combine the choir and praise band.  It worked so well for the spring concert.  It’s going to be awesome.

I am learning
… that sometimes I am such a knucklehead!  I hate that, but it’s true.

Around the house... Cleaning up my craft room.  I need to get in there and get creative.  That will definitely help my mental state.

I am pondering...   on more strategies for procuring gainful meaningful employment.

A favorite quote for today...

Something I have been telling myself since I have been struggling lately.  If I choose to give up on my health program and go back to the way I was (which I WON’T), I might as well stick a pistol in my mouth and blow my brains out because I am choosing death over life.  If I want to die that badly, I don’t need to fiddle fart around with it.
 

One of my favorite things... Azaleas

A few plans for the rest of the week:  S.O.S.

A peek into my day...  Actually found a clip of someone playing “Dixie” on the bagpipes.  Alba Gu Brath, Y’all!
 

UPDATE:  Brussels Sprouts...yummy!  Pepper Steak....oh yeah.  Two slam dunks.

If you would like to join in and post your own Daybook, please head on over to visit Peggy at The Simple Woman's Daybook (http://thesimplewomansdaybook.blogspot.com/) . Thanks for stopping by. Y'all come back now, ya' hear. :)