Better food tastes better...

I was going to title this post "Good food tastes better..." but I rebel at the idea of labeling things "good food" versus "bad food". Food is food - it all boils down to calories that we take in and burn off (or don't). So, I'll choose "better" food to describe these, which I made for dinner tonight. Seriously - NOM NOM NOM. They are so very good, and there's plenty left for lunch tomorrow. NOM!! :) Put fresh ingredients into simple combinations, and NOM. :) Better food really does taste better.

I sat down last night with the weekly ads from Fareway and Hy-Vee, and planned out dinners for the week and made the shopping lists. The ads, plus some trusty resources on the Interwebs, gave me enough ideas to put together healthy meals for the whole week. I signed up for Weight Watchers Online again, and am using their handy recipe finder for ideas.

I've done a lot of thinking (if only thinking could substitute for weight-lifting - if it did, I would be RIPPED!) the past few weeks about why it's been so challenging for me to stick with my eating and exercise plans. And I think I've come to a conclusion: While my Farrell's Bodyshaping experience last summer was fantastic, and taught me so much about what my body was really capable of doing, it's a challenge for me to keep at it long-term. Farrell's is pretty much all or nothing, and that's great, because it's only 10 weeks. I can do anything for 10 weeks, and I did. And it worked. But can I do it that hard-core for the next 10 (or 20 or 30 or 40 or 50) years (Lord willing!)? That's the prospect I found daunting, and why I chose to go back to Weight Watchers.

When I was the thinnest I've ever been (those three glorious weeks in 2001 when I was a size 10) it was because of Weight Watchers. I like the plan, I like the flexibility, and I like the idea of not having to wait until a weekly "free day" to have Swedish Fish (don't judge me). But regardless of what plan I (or you) choose to follow, I have to remain committed and accountable. So what if I blow it and eat the entire container of Swedish Fish, and chase it with a margarita and a tub of Ben & Jerry's? That may be completely acceptable, if I have the calories left to do it and I account for it. Is it a smart idea? Nope. But it's acceptable, and that's all I need right now.

In so many areas of my life lately, I believe God is making slow, small changes that are going to last a lifetime. I want a healthy lifestyle to be one of them, and if slow, small changes are the way to get there, then here we go.

Blown off course...

Hey, friends. It's been pretty much a week of fail here eating/exercise wise - though I did march Mom out for a 25-minute power walk Monday night along our country roads. Tracked my food Monday through Wednesday, and I worshipped at the altar of Mistress Jillian on Tuesday (once I could walk up the stairs again, thanks to her squats) but then Wednesday just blew me all over the place. I've been dealing with some girly problems (which I won't detail here, to spare whatever male readers I may have!) since last winter, and they flared up big and bad Wednesday night and sent me to the ER Wednesday at 11 p.m. These are the nights I am glad I don't live alone, and have a parent nearby to fire up the SUV and drive me downtown. I was home from work recovering yesterday, and am pretty much back on track today (if you don't count the Whopper Junior and Swedish Fish on my desk right now. Swedish Fish - I KNOW. Why can't I quit you, little red bits of gummy goodness?!?).

I have to wait for the consulting physician to get back in town Monday, and then talk with her about scheduling exploratory surgery to determine the cause of said girly problems. Please know that this problem is NOT serious or life-threatening, but it is compromising my quality of life (see 11 p.m. ER trip above) so my doctors and I think it's time to dig deeper to see what's happening. Even if that digging requires a laproscope actually digging in ME. Eeek. As long as I can still bang out sit-ups when we're done, it's all good.

Back to Mistress Jillian this weekend! Bring it!

Locus of control

The title comes from a fancy-pants theory in social psychology, which basically boils down to whether people believe their happiness in life comes as a result of their own actions or results from forces outside their control. People with high internal locus of control think they "make their own luck" while people with external locus of control are turning to fate or chance for explanations. I first came across this term in college, thanks to friends studying education, and the phrase has come back to me time and again in the past decade as I look at how people respond to what life hands them. It came back to me yesterday as I thought over the events of the past few weeks.

Those of you who have rolled with me for a while :) know that I ceded control of my life and my future to Jesus a long time ago. And for the most part, it's been pretty fantastic. However, since I got back from my London trip things have been a little rocky. Jesus did some amazing things for my mind and my way of thinking about myself earlier this summer, but the revolutionized-self-image high has begun to fade a bit and I've found myself slipping back into old patterns. You know, the existing-on-a-diet-where-the-primary-components-are-coffee-and-Swedish-Fish, sleeping-in-until-the-last-possible-moment-before-work, letting-the-dust-gather-on-the-Jillian-Michaels-DVD-cases kind of patterns? (Even typing the line about coffee and Swedish Fish makes my stomach turn, and yet I've done it more times than I care to count in the last four weeks...)

I felt so much better about life and myself when I was exercising semi-regularly and eating... well, not "better" per se, but at least eating less junk. But I've allowed other things and other excuses to take me away from that and I've slid back into the old patterns of behavior and thinking. And I feel like crap. No more. NO MORE, I say. Jesus has pruned away those old patterns, and once He's cut them off they CANNOT grow back. With His help, I won't let them.

This last month I've been forced to think quite a bit about the things I can and cannot control in my life. Here's what I've settled on:

- I cannot control cancer, flood waters, and bad drivers on I-235.

- I cannot control the cute guy I met through ChristianMingle.com, who seemed totally in to e-mailing me for two weeks and has since been totally silent in the last two weeks. :::begin rant::: Through on-line dating I have met two different single men, a decade apart, who were pastors. They are the two who have treated me the worst in my decade of singleton life. You'd think it would be the other way around, wouldn't you? Is this something they're teaching in seminary now - how to dump Internet girls by disappearing from their In Boxes? Just write to me and tell me you're not interested anymore, Reverend Lamebrain... :::end rant:::

- I cannot control the crazy ways my body reacts to heat, hormones, and high stress levels - but I can control how I adapt to them.

- I cannot control the plan God has ordered for my life.

- I can control the way I seek after God's plan for my life, and the level of faith I place in His plan.

- I can control the foods I put into my body, and the thoughts I allow to occupy my mind.

- I can control the way I react to the absence of e-mail from Cute ChristianMingle.com Guy (calling him Reverend Lamebrain probably isn't the best choice - but it made me laugh. And right now that seems like the best option.).

- I can control my lying down and my rising up, and the activities I choose to do in between.

- I can control my Saturday mornings, and spending them going back to Level 1 of Mistress Jillian's "30 Day Shred" as I did this morning. (Squats. Ow. Double ow.)

- I can control my Saturday morning on November 7, when I've signed up to run my first 5K race at the Iowa State Fairgrounds. (Yikes. Double yikes.)

- I can choose, today and every day, how I think about myself and my body, and choose to thank God that He has made me just exactly the way I am - beautiful and strong, getting stronger every day, and coming each day closer and closer to the amazing woman He has designed me to be for His glory.

I choose life.

I choose glory.

I choose hope.

I choose to step away from my BlackBerry, to stop wondering why it isn't buzzing with a new e-mail, and go run.

Run far (well, at least run one kilometer to start).

Run fast.

Run hard.

Run after Jesus.

And find myself along the way.

Now you...

CHOOSE.