Tuesday, November 7, 2017

My "Exciting" New Challenge [UPDATED with Progress!]

Writer Jenny has convinced me to join her team, "We're No (A-Town) Angels," for the Whole Life Challenge, a new eating-fitness-health plan that she is enamored of. I've seen things like this before; my friend KT is enamored of the Whole30 plan, for example, so I read about it, and it sounds Draconian and horrifying. But for whatever reason, this one — though Spartan, for sure — feels more do-able.

What I know for sure is that I can't keep on this way. I may believe that I have ramped up my efforts toward fitness and weight loss and better health, and certainly that teeny little crest at the start of my walk is now easier to scale, but I haven't lost a single freaking pound. And as much as I embrace the cry of "It's not about weight loss! It's about good health!" — friends, when you're closing in on 300 pounds, oh yes, it's about weight loss. I would like my new knees to last for a good long time, and making them carry all this extra weight is not a sustainable plan.

So — the Whole Life Challenge it is!

It will indeed be a challenge; I'm looking over the food list and e-mailed Writer Jenny in horror:
No cereal, toast, or muffins? Or, as I call it, BREAKFAST?
She assures me that she eats fruit and Greek yogurt with nuts, or oatmeal, or omelets (sans cheese) and is surprisingly not hungry.

OK. I can do this.

But it doesn't start till January 20, so I need to get a little more serious in the meantime. Perhaps I will print some of the Challenge worksheets and do a mini version on my own.

(There are three levels, and the one I've chosen is Kick Start, the easiest — or, as I call it, the one that allows you to have a little cream in your coffee!!!!! For me, black coffee would be a deal-breaker. Anyway — maybe I'll kick-start my Kick Start . . . ?)

I skipped zumba last night, long story, and my deal with myself is that I have to make it up the next morning, so I'm heading out for a walk in a little bit, then a sweaty wrestle with my weights and other PT devices. In the bathtub last night, I noticed that my knees are much less swollen (the doc told me it might take a full year), and I can almost sit criss-cross-applesauce on my bed, my favorite way to sit (which I couldn't do after surgery because of the swelling, which kept my knees from fully bending), and this is exciting progress to celebrate.

And later today I'm having lunch with a visiting Betsy-Tacy pal from Nevada, also Brunie, and that will be a delight. I'm still waiting for my dippy clients to get back to me, and I will have a ton of work when they do — but for just this moment, I feel light and free!

Ha. We'll see how long that lasts.

Lady C, Optimistic Realist


Because I know you care deeply: I opened my front door to check the weather, and BRRR. Too cold for an outdoor walk. So I headed to the basement and pounded out six sweaty miles on my stationary bike (plus about half a mile more as I cooled down to the Glee Warblers singing "Teenage Dream"), then lifted weights and did wall-push ups and throw-downs, and then stretched, something I've been negligent about but will have to start doing as part of the Whole Life Challenge — I believe I'm required to do 10 minutes of exercise and 10 minutes of stretching every day.

And now I have all the oomph of an elderly leaky balloon, but boy do I feel smug. I exercised, dude! Where's my medal?

Friday, November 3, 2017

A Little Cure for the Crankies


I've been glued to my desk all day, working on this new project, but I knew that we were out of cat food and coffee, and that will not do. Around 4 p.m., I headed out to Unleashed and Trader Joe's . . .

. . . and took a deep breath.

It is a gorgeous day, here in Arlington, Mass.

Jagged gray clouds with just a hint of blue peeking through. A warm caressing breeze. Trees and bushes that look like they've been painted by Van Gogh. Small piles of golden leaves, gently rustling. Gorgeous.

So I came home with my four bags of groceries (yes, a trip for cat food and coffee results in four bags. Have you never shopped at Trader Joe's?), and believe me, I tried to talk myself out of it, the entire time I was cramming my fleshy masses into my sports bra and capris.

I took a long walk 'round my 'hood as the sun set around me, and it was glorious.

But it did start getting dark very fast. Just as I reached the Old Pervert's house, I was very relieved to hear "Woo-woo!" behind me. It was Husband, who claims he wasn't out looking for me, but his actual claim ("I was trying to find a place to have dinner!") doesn't make much sense, unless he was planning on dining with Good Neighbor Anne. Who, I'm sure, would be happy to host him.

Anyway, he drove me the last half block, and that was nice. It is dark as ebony right now, and plus I had to pee.

On my way out, I chatted with one of my favorite neighbors, the dad of Kimmy-Kimmy, my kids' old babysitter:
  • KK's Dad: Hey, have you seen my drone?
  • Me: WHAT.
  • KK's Dad: It's been in that tree for a few days, but it must have fallen down.
  • Me: I don't even know what a drone looks like!
  • KK's Dad: Small, four legs . . .
  • Me: Wait — who are you spying on???
  • KK's Dad: Everybody!
He is a character. Fortunately, we have no secrets here at Chez Chardonnay.

Husband is out getting dinner because we're all on our own tonight; Li'l Martini is in The Crucible, and tonight is Daddy's turn as devoted audience member.


I'm going tomorrow — by myself, apparently:
  • Good Neighbor Anne: Is Martini performing in this play? Big part? Will it be fun?? 😉
  • Me: He is in the play, a small part (it’s mostly small parts) — and, he says, not a good guy — and I don’t think one second of it will be fun. Want to go with me?
  • GNA: Hmmm. What an invitation!!
Somehow she is resisting the allure. But the weekend's young!

Anyway, I'm home now and I still need to do some more work and my dippy clients haven't addressed my follow-up e-mail ("Hi, I still have every question I originally asked you . . ."), but I am more cheerful, for sure. And there's cold Prosecco in the fridge and a hot bubble bath in my future!

Life is sweeeet.

I need new sneaks, though, my feet are crammed into these like their birth is imminent.

Lady C

Snappy Repartee

  • Me: You know what I hate?
  • Husband: Yes, but what do you hate today?
  • Me: Morons.
  • Husband: I could have guessed that.
  • Me: And punks.
  • Husband: Well, that's new.
I am working with a new client, two women, on a semi-complicated project, and I've posed several questions to them. The client has completely failed me in this regard, in that both women "respond" to what I have asked them, using words, and yet my questions are 100 percent unanswered.

I am utterly without illumination.

My lack of understanding remains total.

They also sent me a time-to-task worksheet they'd like me to complete each week:

No explanation, no clarifying text of any sort, just this form. Brothers and sisters, if you can make sense of it and figure out what I'm supposed to write and where I'm supposed to write it, you are a better person than I.

Grumble, grumble.

Lady Cranky