Sunday, September 11, 2011

I'm Still Here. Really

???  I have no friggin’ clue. Didn’t get on the scale this morning. Didn’t put on the blood pressure cuff.  Blew off Pilates. Let’s face it I’m off the reservation for this one.

Dr. Best worked on me Friday and applied ultrasound not only to my cranky right knee (Aw hell, the knee isn’t the only cranky part of me today) but also to the upper back and neck that hasn’t wanted to cooperate with him. I ached like I’d been thoroughly beaten from Friday night to Saturday night (and yes, I have a frame of reference for that feeling). Between the exhaustion and the pain, I mentally wrote myself a doctor’s note excusing me from gym class. Until tomorrow.

 The reason I stayed up WAAAAAAAAAAAY past my bedtime last night attending an exclusive private premier of a wonderful music video called “Go On” by Darci Monet. I got this exclusive invitation because I helped out. I will let you all know when it’s publicly available (if you’re not a fan of Darci’s already. and she has a blog, too. I don’t know offhand if the title is “Magical Musical Messcapades of a Juicy Girl in Los Angeles,” but the phrase is in there somewhere. Google should bring it up). Anyway, I drank too much (more than 1 glass of red wine. Shock. Horror), ate bad for me food yesterday (Jack in the Box. Never a good choice). This morning, I look and feel like death on a cracker. Not hung over, just exhausted. However, I had a blast getting there. I’ll get better. I know this. Keeping that piece of information close helps my healing process. If I know I’m going to heal, I will heal faster.

If you are a regular here, you know that my staple protein is grilled chicken. One of my friends (and verbal sparring partner) is a dab hand with the spices and grill. In fact, he’s so good with the spices, he could pass for a Disney rat in a Paris restaurant. I digress. Earlier in the week, I had queried him about the idea of adding orange to balsamic for dressing/marinade purposes. We batted it around and I figured I’d experiment later. Friday, while out among civilized people, I get a phone call from said sparring partner that essentially told me I was a pain in the ass and he had just put together a marinde featuring orange zest and balsamic. As I was among civilized people (Oh, hell, who am I kidding? It’s Los Angeles  and we’re all on our cell phones whenever, wherever. However, the bank would have refused to do business with me and I had to end the call), I asked him to email the recipe. He did, the email subject line said “Annoyed Sigh” and thus Annoyed Sigh Marinade was born (he call it it whatever the hell he likes in his little fiefdom. In my world, it’s Annoyed Sigh Marinade). Orange zest, honey, garlic, fresh ginger, smoked paprika,  balsamic vinegar, olive oil. I am throwing it in the George Foreman shortly and will report back.

The down side to zesting oranges is the grating process. It is inevitable that manicures/fingernails will get messed up and I have a hard time growing a healthy set in the first place. But, my hands smell fantastic. By the way, it is a DAMNED GOOD marinade. Grill the chicken (boneless skinless breast), slice it up, throw some raspberries (or other berries) onto salad greens and some sliced almonds, add chicken and juices, feast.

I will see about annoying the sparring partner into working with apple cider vinegar and honey on a couple of variations. This particular combo has long been a folk remedy in the Northeast for a lot of ailments and there are even studies backing up the health benefits. More on that later.

Even though I haven’t been reporting in, I have been keeping faith with the exercise program. Still can’t successfully execute a Tree in yoga class, but I can manage a full Lotus, Dolphin (Downward Dog with your forearms flat on the floor. More challenging than Down Dog) and I’m even getting off my knee off the ground in Crescent.  This is evidence of increased strength/health. My right knee, however, has made it clear that cardio is not such a good idea. It will be.

Of course, me being the shallow bitch that I am with respect to my weight loss project, I want to see the number on the bathroom scale go down. I haven’t.. It’s been bobbing around the 180 lb. mark for 2 months and that’s too damned long in my book. My fault, really: I let sugar and starch back into my diet and they have shown that they are not friendly to my body. Plus, I’m finding that once the sugar is in, it creates an addiction cycle in me. One of the toughest things in the world is to break a cycle, especially one that’s on a downward trajectory (gravity isn’t just a theory, unless you ask various politicians). The semi-easy part is recognizing that you’re on such a trajectory. Applying the brakes?  A wee bit tougher.

There is the expression, “Where there’s a will, there’s a way.” (The variation: “Where’s there a will, there’s a dead guy.”) I had PLENTY of will back when I started this project. There was no challenge to resisting temptations. I still have will, but it’s just not to the same level it was and that’s leading to the downward spiral. Not being a fan of getting dizzy, it’s time to stop the spiral.

There is the school of thought that you have to be happy with what you have (or where you are) in order to attract more of what you want. It’s a challenge when you have expectations and they’re not being met. It’s a challenge when you feel you look great or healthier, but you’re not getting external validation (the reflection back from a different kind of mirror).

I guess I need to refocus and be my own mirror. And like the reflection. Hey, my reflection has gotten far more flexible since January. Now, if only it could do a pushup….

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