Sugar Free

Ever since Easter, I’ve been overwhelmed by the amount of sweets and sugar that have surrounded me. And as anyone who knows me can tell you, I have no willpower. So between the malted chocolate balls  and jelly beans I had at home and the seemingly endless bowl of M&Ms and cookie trays we’ve had at work, I’ve been in a sugar coma for weeks.

I’ve decided I need to detox myself from sugar for a week. I decided to cut out my poor-man’s mochas (coffee and hot chocolate), no chocolate at all, no sweets, no added sugar at all. Instead, I’m replacing my coffee with a homemade fruit smoothie. I replaced the small piece of chocolate in my lunch box with grapes. And I will avoid any temptation at eating the random cookies and candy that cross my path.

Now here’s what I predict will happen: I’m going to be really cranky and mean.

I highly suggest over the next week that you avoid me as much as possible. I’m already moping over sipping on my tart smoothie and not my delicious coffee. My stuffy head from allergies desperately wants caffeine and sugar to snap me out of the haze.

But no, I’m going to be good. I’m going to get my sweets fix from naturally sweet products. I’m going to avoid soda. I’m going to eat my salads. And hopefully by the end of the week I’ll be feeling better than ever, full of energy, ready to run 7 miles. If not, my kids are really going to wish it was a weekend with their dad.

Food Rules

Back in the day, I was a big fan of Friends. Still am, catching reruns in those few moments where I find I have spare time. There was an episode where they were out to eat and someone, I believe it was Rachel, tried to grab a fry of Joey’s plate and he snapped, “Joey doesn’t share food.” Joey and I have a lot in common.

Every March and April, my kitchen cabinets get overloaded with Girl Scout cookies. I have my regulars that I order, Lemon, Peanut Butter Patties, and the Tag-a-longs. I don’t have to order Thin Mints anymore as my mom supplies them to me like they’re going to be the food that will see me through a nuclear war.

I relish my Girl Scout cookies, savoring every bite. And I most certainly don’t share, though I have eased up on the Thin Mints, have at ‘em. The other day, I caught my son with the roll of Tag-a-longs in his hand and I just stopped in my tracks and glared at him. He looked back at me knowing exactly why I was glaring. “What Mom? Can’t I have one?!”

Deep breath. “Ok. Fine. Have a cookie. But next time, ask me!”

These types of scenarios lead to my other food rule, or theory if you will: if you eat everything that is bad for you all at once, that’s better than stretching it out over a long period of time. Just eat it and then it will be gone!

I know this is completely illogical and false, but it’s a rule I live by. So those rolls of cookies that I accumulate in the spring, they don’t make it past April. Now the Easter candy that came back to my house (which I thought I was safe from) is begging to be eaten. “Hurry up! Eat all the jelly beans NOW before they beckon me in swim suit season!”

So combine this rule with my no sharing rule and I’m typically in a lot of trouble. This is why I didn’t buy Easter candy and why the other 10 months of the year I don’t buy cookies. Once I realized my son found my Tag-a-longs, I knew this was no good. So I quickly finished to roll when he wasn’t looking.

Problem solved.

 

The Stinky Interview

You know what is just absolutely incredible about my life? No matter how hard I try, I consistently do dumb things. Take this morning as an example.

This weekend, my kids were at their dad’s, which meant on a Monday morning, I could add another 15 minutes to my sleep time. I don’t always take advantage of that, but I had a big appointment this morning and I thought I ought to be well rested. Good plan right?

Wrong. Turns out when I changed the tie on my alarm, I forgot to turn it on. And for someone who wakes up at about 6:30 a.m. on weekends, I managed to sleep until 7:34 a.m. Unfortunately, my very important appointment was at 7:45.

So what happened then?

First, I screamed. Bad, bad, bad words came out of my mouth. Then I checked every clock thinking this was a mishap from the time change. They all said the same thing. I ran into my bathroom, plugged in my curling iron to attempt to fix my matted down hair. I brushed my teeth and my hair and grabbed my makeup. Quickly ran the curling iron through my hair, and scrambled to get dressed. Once dressed, I managed to let my poor dog outside while I threw on some makeup, grabbed my purse and some earrings, threw some food in the dogs bowl and ran off. (Don’t worry, I let the dog back in.) This whole process did not help with my the not-showering aspect of the morning as I was completely sweating. It was now 7:42. Three minutes to get to where I needed to be.

In my car, I raced down Springfield yelling at everyone in front of me. GO, GO, GOOOOOOOO!!!!!

By 7:48, I’d made it. Thank goodness for no traffic in Champaign.

I walked into the restaurant and met with who my the end of the meal ended up becoming my future boss. And the whole time we chatted I trembled and tried to not feel self conscious for not having showered (a first for me.) By the end of the hour I finally felt calm and collected.

I sat in my car and put my head on the steering wheel feeling relieved that she offered my the job despite looking like I woke up somewhere besides my home and threw on whatever was in front of me. It was only then that I realized I desperately had to pee as that was a necessity I cut out in my attempt to arrive on time.

It’s Go Time

Last year I didn’t something I never anticipated doing in my life. I ran a 5K. This from a girl who was on the walking program during high school. I ran a few over the summer and fall but found I just couldn’t push myself harder. No matter what I did, I was exhausted and burned out, and yet this year, I signed up for the 10K. I must be crazy.

Or not. This year I enlisted to help of my friend who’s an exercise physiologist. Right after the holidays when I’d consumed too many calories in cookies, sweets and alcohol, I took a metabolic assessment test. I was mortified stepping on the scale seeing how little my 3 days a week at the gym were doing. But I stepped up to the treadmill anyway, got a ridiculous mask on and looked like Hannibal Lechter as I underwent my test.

Essentially what I learned from it was that my body was not very good about burning fat for an energy source. Once my heart rate took off, it went straight for carbs which is ok, but you burn through them quickly. Hence the burnout I was experiencing after a few miles. So what was the plan. Reboot.

For the last 8 weeks I’ve spent my time at the gym doing what I consider to be very little. But it was very calculated. Each day I’d be in a specific heart rate zone, occasionally jumping from one to the next and back. It wasn’t until I was able to run for a minute at a time that I actually started sweating.

But turns out, this calculated program was exactly what I needed. After being retested I’ve improved my VO2 significantly and I should be able to run farther, and harder. I also lost 7 pounds doing what I considered to be very little. Who knew the body was so complicated.

Now that I have my new numbers to aim for, I’m starting the running side of the training for the 10K….aka go time. Today I had to run 2.5 miles. Keep in mind, I haven’t run unless chasing my kids for the past 8 weeks. While doing 1-minute intervals on the treadmill, I was sure I was going to keel over and die.

But today, it felt like I was stepping into a marathon. Having just joined our gorgeous, brand new Y facility, I for the first time took advantage of a gym day care and headed up to the track while my kids chased a gazillion other kids around the play area. Up at the track I read that it would take 16-17 laps to do a mile depending on whether I used an inside or outside lane. That alone was a huge stumbling block. That would mean best case scenario, I would be running 40 laps. Ugh.

Here we go. Shoes tied, no tripping going to happen today. Footpod on, watch set and I’m off. One lap, two, three, they go on and on. 40 laps later I realized I didn’t stop to walk once. Not once. And I could have gone farther. I felt amazing, overjoyed at this accomplishment after over 8 weeks of no running.

And then I sat down. What’s the opposite of go time?

Door Problems

Over the past day, I’ve come to realize just how often I use the teeny tiny muscles in my face, particularly the ones in my forehead. I’ve also discovered that I make many more facial expressions than I realized. I know this because every time I raise my eyebrows or yawn or really do anything at all, I experience some less than delightful pain in the left corner of my head.

No, I did not have botox, but I imagine the minimal expressions I’ve been trying to maintain are the exact type that someone who’s recently received an injection might feel.

I just did something stupid, per usual.

After a day at Three Floyd’s Brewery in Indiana, where I nursed one beer for over 3 hours, I set out to head home. But before hitting the road, I decided a Diet Pepsi and some chocolate were the exact things I need to get rid of the beer taste that had settled in my mouth. So before leaving, I stopped at the gas station, made my purchases and went to hop back in my car.

This did not go very well. Despite having the car for nearly a month now, I am apparently unaware how to open the door properly. Instead of opening the door and sliding in, I opened the door and nailed myself in the head with the corner of the door.

My hand immediately reached up to cover the spot where I had just hit and a string of curse words normally spoken by my father-in-law came streaming out of my mouth. How in the hell did I just open my car door on my head?

Two people in the car with me have not really spent any time with me so to them this seemed like a stupid, stand-alone incident, one that still required mocking. However, as we all know, this is par for the course.

It didn’t take long for the corner of my forehead to swell up into a nice goose egg and bruise. It complimented the gash I gave myself quite well.

Not quite 24 hours later, I’m still smarting from this one. I’m trying to focus on remaining as emotionless as possible while I fold my laundry and watch Party Down. I think this one might hurt for awhile. Please pardon me if I show no expression the next time I see you.

Old and New

Today was a very exciting yet bittersweet day for me. I picked up my brand new car, a Kia Sorento, and said goodbye to my trusty friend, my 2002 Hyundai Santa Fe.

I’ve been wanting a new car for years now, wanting to take advantage of all the new technology that was out there. But I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. Didn’t want to pay a car payment again, not to mention, the Santa Fe was running just fine.

I bought that car in 2002, right after Griffin was born. It was a big investment for me and my first all-new car. Little did I know that this car would be so dependable for nearly the next decade.

Nine and a half years later, it’s still running like a champ with 181,749 miles on it.

Those miles were racked up through 6 years of back and forth from Peoria to Champaign at least twice a month. Not once in that time did that car give me trouble.

Sure it needed new brakes several times, and new tires, but one thing never went wrong with that vehicle. It always stood by me.

Like the time I thought I could move my car out of the garage when the battery was dead not thinking that my driveway was a hill and it rolled down and into my neighbors car hitting her tree. Or the time I was driving with the dog to Champaign to meet up with my kids and I hit a patch of ice on the interstate and did a 360. I didn’t end up in the ditch or in an accident. Or the countless times I white-knuckled it through snow, ice, heavy rain, and insane winds.

Of course, over the nine years, it had it’s fair share of being beat up. I had two children afterall. My daughter over the years took to hiding things under her car seat which I’d discover in disdain when I went to vacuum it out. The crevices in that car are filled with crumbs that are stuck permanently.

I’m sure there will always be dog hair no matter where you sit thanks to Quentin, who was my front seat companion as we drove back and forth.

The CD player stopped working about 2 years ago when it ate my son’s Michael Jackson CD, and the display on the player hasn’t read correctly for at least 5 years.

Then there’s the paint stains from an apron mishap after a birthday party. Carrying two freshly painted aprons into my car, running from the rain, I managed to get paint on my steering wheel, dashboard, front seats, console and somehow, the baseboard on the passenger side.

But through it all, the Santa Fe was my friend and I can truly say that I will miss it.

So after 9 years of this, while I new it was a safe bet to get the same model, I decided I wanted to shake it up. So I bought the Sorento, only to find out that it’s also owned by Hyundai and many of the features were taken from old Santa Fe’s. Figures.

I stepped into it today and smelled the fresh leather seats, delighting in that new car smell. I turned on the satellite radio and setup the Bluetooth. I programmed the navigation system to get me home, just for fun. And when I picked up my kids, they squealed with joy, exclaiming that this was “the best car ever!”

After a few minutes of letting them enjoy the car, I turned my head and sternly said, “NO FOOD AND KEEP IT CLEAN!” Yeah right. Poor Sorento. It doesn’t know what it’s in for. But I’ll enjoy it while I can.

Cool Down

When you work out, there’s many things you can do to cool yourself down. For example, you can go stand in front of a fan and let your hair blow like you’re in a bad 80s hair band video. You can go splash some cold water on your face in the bathroom. Fan yourself with a magazine or a towel. There are many options.

Today, while I was doing a rather modest workout, no sweating necessary, I invented a new way to cool oneself off. Here’s how you do it.

1. You get a cold bottle of Gatorade that’s been sitting in your garage and car when it’s below freezing out.
2. You open it and have it at-the-ready for when you’ve gone a good 6-8 minutes into your cardio.
3. You grab the bottle of Gatorade.
4. You miss your mouth and dump it in and down your shirt

Bam! You’re instantly cool (temperature not attitude). And embarrassed. It’s called the “Terri Cool Down.” Give it a shot next time you’re at the gym. It will elicit multiple smiles, a few giggles, some snickering and deep reddening of your skin.