Dreams, Jogging, and my Mother.

Lately, in an effort to be more productive and to put my life in line with more healthier habits,  I have been getting up earlier and going to bed earlier with the hopes that I can start exercising and still get my shower before work. So far, this has been met with varying degrees of success.

Last night tho, horrid sleeping left me exhausted this morning. I dreamt I was trying to go to sleep. I HATE that soo much. It’s like SandMan’s giving you the finger. Finally at 6:30 ish this morning I was able to dream but I wish I hadn’t.

Enter scene, my father and I are jogging, trying to find my mom who is also jogging in what looks like a military housing neighborhood. Every so often I get a glimpse of mom jogging up ahead in a large pink shirt and verdant green shorts. She’s got this zen serene look on her face as her sneakers are hitting the asphalt. My mother, the Jogging Nature Goddess… but for some reason, dad and I have to catch up with her, find her and bring her back to reality. Dad goes looking in one direction and I go another. I see her rounding the corner back onto a street I just left so I back track to be in place as she comes around. I yell at her through the music pouring out of her ipod… “Mama!… I LOVE YOU!”  She doesn’t hear it.

 She heads back to the parking lot where dad is waiting for her and we rush to her side. I see her perfectly in my dream, just as I remember her and I recall thinking that I should embrace her while I have the chance because this will probably be the last time I’ll be able to remember her so well. So I do. I wrap my arms around her and she’s just as warm and comforting as my childhood memories but as I do so, slowly she changes to the last time I saw her physically. Cold… and stiff, and completely nothing like my mother at the service. And my grief was so tangible that I cried out, alarming my husband.

Seeing my mother jog in my dream was like watching my mother living… maybe fighting to live… striving to live.  And when she stopped jogging and was gone, well, that was it. The end. Its as if the locomotion of life translating in my brain is To Jog.

You want to live, you got to move.

So move.

Blood sugar: 196
current weight:365.6



getting people to come in to file their tax returns on time is like nailing Jello to a tree.

and then they bring donuts when they do!

restarting slow….


Ironically, the logo of SlowFood


The image shown is of Slow Food USA

    “Slow Food is an idea, a way of living and a way of eating. It is part of a global, grassroots movement with thousands of members in over 150 countries, which links the pleasure of food with a commitment to community and the environment.”

Figured it applies due to theme so a little promotion was in order since their logo appeals to me today. While I’m not a organic consumer myself because the cost is too prohibitive, I do prefer fresh produce over canned preserved fruits and veggies. I applaud the ideals Slow Food upholds. But due to a lack of technology to make organic foods cost effective and how terrified people are of “frankenfood” which is a total misnomer on genetic engineering of our edible plant friends, I’ll be waiting a bit longer to join the Organic Train. Noble idea though.

 What I’d like to see is a partnership between Organic food and genetic engineering. Genetic Engineering could answer the no pesticides/chemical principles of the Organic Community. Imagine, fields of wheat, corn or bean sprouts being inherently resistant to insect ravishment or drought… or produced at a double, even triple yield.

For more info on genetic engineering and all the positive possibilities, please follow the link below.



Now, what do I mean by restarting slow. My entire effort was overturned and as mentioned in my prior post, I dropped the weight loss ball. I’m going to exercise tonight. Already planning it. Oh! And those who are total foodies like I am but can’t think of what to make, I’m going to start blogging the dinners I have at night. I don’t have last night’s recipe but I’m working on getting it so I can post it later today. In some ways, I feel like this is my own private health book club, where I can be totally honest and share.



I needed this…

I needed this…

whereas I don’t meet the mindset from a religious standpoint, I badly needed to read this from Holly’s blog today.

The past couple of days have been a huge set back for me. I just haven’t had the motivation that was carrying me a couple of days ago…

Where did my steam go?

But I’m not going to let it get to me. Yeah, I goofed up. I dropped the ball. But instead of wallowing in guilt and carbohydrates, I’ve got to pick that ball back up and get moving. I owe it to myself to get back into the game. I owe it to my family. I owe it to the woman who gave me life.

Just because I had a set back doesn’t mean I can just give up because I’m never going to get there…”

That mentality got me right where I’m at.

Thank you Holly for reminding me that I’m worth fighting for.

Having a few down days….

I missed 3 days of exercise, mainly because I pushed so hard that I feel like my thigh muscles got ripped to shreds. So… lesson learned, give it your all but don’t be insane. Check!
it wouldn’t hurt to have some ice packs on hand….

well… ok… not really, I mean I did get a lot of muscle burn but what really did me in was a call from mom’s life insurance company. They called to find out where to send the claimant papers. I actually succeeded in not crying for 2 whole days when I thought of mom.
Losing mom has been pivotal in putting me on this journey to reclaim my health… but this hit me in a way I hadn’t realized. Usually, I get sad, I cry and I force myself to get on with my life (typically by going on a walk or some other health activity for the burn). This time, I got sad I cried… and I just wallowed in my depression and misery. I didn’t get up and do my workouts, I didn’t walk. For the most part I still didn’t turn to food.
That is the only good part of this.
I didn’t eat my way out of my sadness.
But I didn’t leave the couch either. I didn’t take Bosco walking. I didn’t turn on Zumba or Sports Active or my Bellydance music. It was as if I actively glommed onto my anguish like a child given their favorite candy. I do know that I’m emotionally compromised. I gave my hubby all authoritative decision rights until I can put myself right because another bout like that might lead to something stupid, destructive and all around bad for my health.

while typing this… I’m having my afternoon snack (special K 90 cal, 17 carb) and it brings to mind, why when you say “I’m going to diet, give me healthy snack” the food companies hear “I’m a horse! I like eating cardboard and oat bits” ?

~_~ the fat girl in me is crying foul and the skinny girl is hogtied and tossed in a closet somewhere wondering what the heck is going on. Eating healthy shouldn’t mean eat inedible!