Tag: health

Posted on in anxiety, education, fitness, goals, Peloton, sixty, weight loss

Just One

Sweat is dripping onto my eyelids and into my eyes, causing blurred vision. I wipe away my fluids only to have buckets seemingly fall from the sky. This was my longest ride, best PR, and mileage pee minute did not suck. I am breathless, but the type you want again, and my mind is clear. Yesterday, I took a cheat day in my 21-day habit forming exercise. I needed it and while my calendar notes a blank hole,  my guilt got the best of me and I did yoga for fifteen minutes after midnight. To me I am still on track, neurotic, but now understand a day off of exercise is not an option.

However, last night was pure perfection for this calorie counting, protein shoving, and daily spinning grandma. A burger and a glass of champs! Absolute heaven. I have been so great in the numbers and workout department, but I knew I needed a bit of a treat. I did not work out. Horror, and I ate food with saturated fat. It was yummy. Was it necessary? Yes. It delighted my taste buds and caused me to miss working out and feeling the after-effects of too much of a good thing. It was a testament to my newly built strength, habits that are forming, and the realization that this will take a year of my life, but a life filled with the new real focus of the mayo way health. Count calories and protein. Period, and move daily beyond from couch to kitchen.

While strides are happening, the food, drink, and workout break were fabulous. However, the guilt felt was and is miserable, and it is my job on my long-term lifestyle change to fully enbrace that guilt has no place in this scenario. So, today, I pushed, excelled, and realized that while I still love a culinary delight. I love the person I am becoming more!

Posted on in epilepsy, health, sixty, weight loss

Enjoy the Ride

A mantra firmly planted on my wall in front of my bike. During a ride, I read it over and over and extend the meaning beyond my pedals. Currently, I am relearning the art of enjoyment. Depression is odd. I know I am blessed, have a great daily life as a teacher, make a difference, and am loved. But the feeling persists. A dark cloud that chases me and, at times, hovers. On good days, it allows the sun to shine through for my reminder me that life is amazing even with a depressive persona. This will never go away. Clouds will be off to the side waiting to dart towards my life, but the clarity of life is my goal, and my understanding that this is one big ride is a milestone that I celebrated by taking a chance and talking to my physician about the dreaded topic of weight. I had gained. I knew it. For many reasons, this was a bold move, but I was ready.

Now, having a weighty conversation is awkward, but it is  better to have it with a doctor who has known you for years. You can at least forgive their bedside horrors, and frankly, facts are facts. So, we started with the number. He just pointed to my chart. I cried, and during my blubbering, I was proud of myself as I made no excuses. Nope. I owned my issue, not worrying about how many clouds would chase after me, bringing me that feeling of dread. To my surprise, I left lighter and full of hope as I have three months to get new habits, a weigh-in, and then the discussion if I need medical help. We both are fighting that one, but this is Mayo. Their plan is stronger than the corner shot clinic, and my goal is thirty-five pounds. For me, this will take six months to a year due to the list of meds that keep my epilepsy in check. I left with a caloric target and a protein goal. A huge one to keep carbs and bad fats away. This, with a serious upgrade in riding, a bit of low weights, pilates, or yoga on off days is the ticket.

Fast forward to day four. I am hungry, but protein seems to keep me in check. I miss food but realize this is life, not a diet. Eating correctly and working out or suffering an alternative far bleaker than a dancing dark cloud is my choice , and I can not break my eating or fitness patterns  anymore, as 61 is 61 and while weight loss will not chase all my clouds away the sunshine will peer through occasionally as the success of consistency brings hope and hope is eternally powerful force for those living with depression.

Posted on in grey hair, health, sixty

Tipping Over Sixty

Sixty was hard. I felt my age. Middle-age extras in all areas, a few injuries, comfort food, and a lazy attitude kept me feeling my age. My mind kept going to the elder thinking ways, as I lost a parent. That will make you think for a bit. My thoughts lasted too long, and every pang was an emergency. Finally, I woke up and dusted off my sixty years to embrace sixty-one and beyond. It’s never been the number it’s always been about life with the number and sixty stunk. Lots of lots. Leave it at that, nothing insurmountable, I come from strong stock. But the moments plus my looks that turned accelerated the feeling of old when anything but. Did I mention I am vain. Oh yes, and while no model beauty, the little I have, I treasure, and in my eyes, the slow crumble was devastating.

Until now, actually last week. I just snapped out of it, got on my bike, rejoined Weight Watchers, Oprah or not, and am doing things the right way for my body and my life. Of course, with my newer fluffy body in shrink mode. I made peace with the neck. It’s not going away. My thought is that if the other pounds slowly melt, fitness increases, and my grand buddy and I explore the world more. I don’t care. I want to keep up with him and enjoy. Nugget thinks I am pretty. All the time, except once when I herniated my disc and told me I needed a shower. But that is another story, and he was right.

So sixty-one has a few gadgets trying to minimize lines, better makeup on my weaker areas, simple comfy styles as I shrink and feel happy wearing, and my notation that size and weight do not matter, it is overall eating to live and moving to move everyday, without fail that is key. Sixty-one is enjoyment, love, travel, family, and feeling youthful per mind and body. Why not! Sixty-one is designing sixty-five, i.e., retirement to create a busy fulfilling next season. I have ideas. It’s a start, but no concrete plans, and I know I am blessed to be at this stage.

Bring on Sixty-one!

Posted on in family, fitness, weight loss

Enter Tovala

My Best Friend

I have not felt this sort of initial love in decades. It is as we were made for each other, as this is my answer, to all things cooking. Imagine a scan and go technology with the ability to churn out meals that have ingredients only tasted by my household in restaurants. I can’t cook, but marvel at those that can and actually love the process. I applaud you. I am more of the shop, five minute prep and scan girl. Oh, I can do chicken nuggets and lunchables but charcuterie still comes in plastic with my shop, open and go mentality, and I am ok with this.

The hubs heard of this Christmas gift to myself and he balked. You can cook, it will be costly, yadda yadda. I ignored. So far, he likes it. It is not a love match as he has his own eating peculiarities (bariatric patient) but so far I have received a positive reaction. I am just learning to order for him and myself separately. I am low calorie and he gets what wants and divides it up. It works and makes me happy. Tonight is a Korean pork dish. Yum.

The upsides of this new countertop space grabber far outweighs its bulkiness in a world gone minimal. We are eating balanced low calorie meals that are portioned correctly and enjoying our choices, more time together, and sometimes a fancy lunch, if leftovers or an extra chicken, does no meet his tastebuds.

So run do not walk to www.tovala.com and find you machine, meals, and your new best friend.

Salmon, brocoli and fancy sauce
Posted on in anxiety, life, menopause, retirement, sixty

It’s My Cabana

It’s my cabana and I will cry if I want to, or take up the entire space, glaring at others that dare to share. I knew cabanas were an option at every resort, but never did I ever dare to reserve, I will now. They are meant for those of us who have spent lives in the chairs, sharing chairs, and schelping out the children focusing on their needs first. Truly parenting with juice boxes and cherrios in tow. It is my cabana time. I have arrived. Lululemon dupes and all. These two weekends have been devoted to bringing a smile to my face, the hubs is trying. I have struggled. Between turning the big 6-0, and my fathers passing without proper closure, life has become murky.

Wading through my clutter did feel better on a cabana. Perhaps it was our fabulous waitress, the perfect backrest, or the sea air and views. Or was it just the cabana with the only lacking accoutrement being a charging station for cell phones, or is that not the point of the cabana life? I dont know? A newbie here. But I will bring a charging pack next time, which while taking away my solitude, allows me to write and solves my huge cabana problem.

While embracing my new life fixture and enjoying every minute, I still clashed with my current status of coping with a life in transition. A life in the normal stages of 60. A life beyond empty nester and into the “one day retirement” stage. Don’t get ideas. Just one day. The day gave me clarity that served the day but the chaos bounced back today. It will continue. I can’t stay on a beach or any other metaphor for life perfected, forever. No matter how many trips, spas, and dinners my feelings will stay until I learn to manage them, without a cabana. But until then the memories and true joy I felt will help me along the way on this journey to find my peace.

Posted on in anxiety, education, family, health, life, sixty

Subtract Not Add

I went through one of the best first weeks of school purely absorbed by outlying tasks, chores, stuff. Some money-making opportunities others just life. My mind not on the focus of kids but a running to-do list that gave me an inner click when every task was complete. I was miserable and less accomplished, as I was worried about tommorow, the next schedule, how I could get home quicker to review turtoring lessons before I zoomed away. I can’t. Literally can’t. With every tick off the list, another appeared with the only loss column items becoming my family.

My need to add is a stuffing mechanism to keep busy, not focus on the reality of a painful past, and so I do not look at the alternative. Retirement. Creepy. An elderly life, and the unknown. But the more I stuff into the hours of the day and night, the more I lose out in life.

So I am going to keep subtracting and focusing on my present, my daily blessings of students, and my family before I blink and it becomes a memory of long ago. Will I retire. No. Stop trying to do everything for the sake of a couple bucks. Yes.

Posted on in back pain, fitness, goals, health, life, Peloton

The Nibbler

Long ago, in a land far, far away I was a no pain, no gain gal. Since my back injury. I call myself a nibbler. I get to my goals for the day or on most days but in baby bites. I don’t have any illusion, that my body will transform into goddess like looks, but I know I am moving and that is finally what matters. Obviously, I am now back to my physical normality, with limits. I am biking more than five minutes a day. In fact, I can withstand fifteen to thirty minutes, but usually stay with fifteen three to five days a week, because the grazing concept with constant adding of time works at this juncture.

So, whether your a grazer like me, couple miles walking, biking, and back to yoga or the lift till you die or break your foot, kinda gal. Go for it! Movement is movement anyway you can get it into your day. But for those that lift astronomical weights, I watch your videos in awe and fear you will drop them and scream in a pain not meant for your stories. So, please spot, because I worry. I do.

Posted on in anxiety, education, essay, goals, granparent life, grey hair, sixty

I Fear Retirement

Spring Break brings me a sense of peace, quiet, and the organization and rotation of clothes (love a good closet), and silence. This brings me joy, a needed recharge, and since I am nearing the end of my career, it causes me great concern as to what’s in my future retirement plans. Long ago, in my fantasy phase, We would hop on a cruise and do the world. Yes, with the hubs. “We” would go from port to port in utter class and see the world. I priced that. Not happening. But a yearly big trip can be organized and afforded. Yes, it can. One trip a year. Just one. A cruise maybe two, Denmark, Ireland, Fiji, Australia, Philippines, Japan, Germany. Italy, and a revisit to France and England. I love to go see, go explore, and go experience other cultures. So does the hubs, he just does not like the planning or spending. But we deserve a yearly exploration. Well, that is two weeks out of the year including packing. Now what. Truly, I draw a blank. Golf? Bad back. But I do like the fact that it takes all day. Again, bad back. Not an option. Besides, had a tantrum on a course with the hubs and picked up the ball, clubs, and chucked them. They did not go far. But it felt good. We went home, clubs in tow. My hubs won’t golf with me anymore.

Volunteering. Possible but when I cross the finish line of teaching, my giving myself for free, is over. But it’s not out of my possible options. Not sure who wants a retired teacher but someone might, or in reality, I might need them more. The fear of boredom is quite real and with golf out, traveling limited, grocery shopping with my husband out, way out. Have you seen those cute couples who banter about what cut of beef they want and actually enjoy the grocery experience? We are not them.

We are building a dream home up north and have another down south. Very south. Will we spend time there? Yes. But both places are in gorgeous areas with an abundance of quiet. I like a balance. Less and less as the years go on, but purpose and a little noise in life is needed. Teach online? Get my restorative yoga certification, open a Montessori school or a yoga studio in Neebish Island? Just continue my essays and complete the book? Or just waking up everyday to a new adventure and let the day unfold…Nah. structure is needed. Heck, I even ask to go to the bathroom and always will, so while retirement scares me the options are amazing.

Posted on in health, intermittent fasting, life, menopause, weight loss

Intermittent Fasting Continues

It’s been approximately a month. I have had my good girl and bad girl moments. During this time I knew I needed more guidance. I have found the holy grail for menopause mama’s and rid myself of all the other weight loss noises in my life. Good-bye Weight Watchers, good-bye Noom, again and the Carb manager app I was using as I tried to rid myself of all things good, while fasting. All at once. I went deep and fast. That never works. It didn’t.

But I am back. A new sensation on this tenth day that will not leave me is hunger. Not just in the morning but throughout the day. All my deep dives give the same song and dance, allow me to paraphrase the countless holes of information that gave me a ray of hope and more hunger. Don’t quit, you will get used to it, only two to four weeks and it is just another daily skill, and the worst, some have no hunger after two days. Who are you? We must meet so you can share your recipes. But not quitting. Not this time. What’s three more weeks of feeling hungry, grumpy, and tired if on the otherside is my menopause mama holy grail to weight loss and health.

The changes I have made are drastic, although I sneak a carb now and then. I am sugar and almost carb free, my calories are low and my overall carb intake in in range of Keto. My vitamin intake is huge and have added juice shots for added benefits. I am all in and I feel accomplished. My steps have risen and I am closing in on 300 rides. My mind is clear. A big step and I have a bit more energy. A bit. But I am hungry. But my clothes feel better. But I am hungry. So, wjile no drastic scale changes, I feel but better. That’s enough. For now, it is alot.

My new lifestyle guru, the creator of the Galvaston diet, and some great products.

https://galvestondiet.com/

https://www.kevita.com/products/sparkling-probiotic-drink/

https://www.walmart.com/browse/health/immunity-boosters-shots/976760_1544540_8925996

https://310nutrition.com/blogs/all/vanilla-almond-protein-shake

https://whisps.com/

Posted on in anxiety, health, life

Peter Pan Meets Reality

Photo by Thirdman on Pexels.com

It happens. I try to play it off or completely ignore big life issues. To me my world is about teaching and the great stuff about family. End of conversation. The rest interferes with my obvious brilliance, after twenty years in the classroom, my Peter Pan existence as a parent, grandparent, and even as a spouse. In essence I ignore reality. I am fine with this existence, but others feel I am ignoring their needs. No, I do my research, prayer, and check off all the boxes of care, and make sure Amazon visits with all the needs. I just don’t want to talk about it, ever as I end up with my strong combination of Irish/Jewish guilt down serious rabbit holes that put me one step away from a white jacket. Yes, the kind you cannot get out of…ever. I care, love, and worry but on my terms. My hubs is having surgery, now the C word is gone, but is it? It never is at Mayo, so he wanted to have me read the novels the clinic sent him home with along with the massive directions for the day. No one needed this. I needed a drink afterwards and had nightmares for nights and three new wrinkles. Reading the preview was too much for me, but he needed this for him. I told him I would have asked every question from the doctor, you bet, but this reading meant something to him, not to my panic and worry, but to him. So, out of love I read. Drank, and read over again. I worry differently. Obviously, packing a flask to the hospital, just in case. But I worry. Intensively, in a happy way. Most will never see my constant worry. We all have our moments, and our concern comes out differently. My thoughts are hidden, only I can tap-in as needed. I sometimes outright avoid everything, but they are there and felt, as that is part of humanity. However, on any given day let me just be happy, play the role of Peter Pan, and give away the gift that was given to me, the ability to entertain at any level at any given moment. I am more of a cocktail party kind of gal. Not the big stuff. But to my Senator. We got this! You will find me entertaining the Mayo Staff or a stray child, as that is my coping strategy, but always worrying.