It took me a while to figure out the most appropriate name for this post. BASICS- too blah, life is already kind of lame these days. THE GROUND RULES- too punitive sounding for what I want. Aspirations felt just right. The best I can muster right now is to aspire- of course, I’m trying to aspire with self-discipline, so hopefully that will translate to achieve. You’ll know when I post that title.
At any rate, I’m setting some eating aspirations for the next month or two. I’m considering putting my child on a gluten-free diet (long story, probably a whole other blog) and so I’m considering nutrition a lot these days. I am also feeling inspired from some of my close friends who have really worked the farm-to-table thing in the past few years and revolutionized their homes, kitchens, lifestyles and waist lines in the process. Their approach was inspired by culture, wellness, and the crazy politics surrounding the food “revolution” in the last half-century. As I mentioned before, my quest is about that elusive balance of wellness and vanity. So why not throw an ode to farmer’s markets in the mix?
Here are the things to which I aspire, at least in my own often weak sort of way. Honesty is one of my gifts, so I promise to let you know how it goes with full disclosure:
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
BACK IN THE SADDLE
Or perhaps a more appropriate title would be: Back in the Saddle Bags. I’m not sure how July blew past me or where it went. The month at my house was packed with wonderful people and lots of joy. And what better way to celebrate the people you love than with food and drink and lots of it? My heart couldn’t agree with you more. My pants, the ones that fit better in May, beg to differ.
This month, our summer travels have come to an end and we aren’t expecting guests for a while, so it’s time to chart a new course. I’m sure people with more discipline than me can navigate the fun while observing healthy and moderate consumption, but as a species I’m just not that highly evolved. At least not yet. Anyone who has functional pointers about indulging while on vacay without blowing it out of the water, please feel free to share.
My goal is to explore/try/research/discuss different ideas relating to wellness that are floating around in the ether right now, and commit myself to avoiding a life of excess and eating much more consciously. I also want to move my ass and breathe deeper while finding ways to marry what sometimes seems the impossible: Health AND Vanity. We’ll see how it goes.
I had a rich conversation with one of my best friends a few months ago about the psychological components of weight loss. Letting go of our extra layers- whether we built them out of protection, depression, negligence, or anger- is also very much about letting go of excess weight in our emotional life. I feel that keenly in my personal and physical life right now, and I’m determined to re-negotiate it.
So I’m starting with my lady pouch. I mentioned in an earlier post that I had a baby 17 months ago, and one of the party favors left over from the pregnancy is a stomach full of sleeping muscles and stored fat that I once heard a trainer refer to as a “lady pouch.” Hmmmm. What might I be hiding in my said pouch, you might ask?
Observations. Lots of them. Like here's one for starters:
There’s no f***ing gender equity in America.
Sure, we’ve got Title IV and company initiatives to try and “balance the boardroom”, but what about the perceived expectations of women in our society outside of the workplace? For many of my working mother friends, it’s not their day jobs that they struggle with. It’s their night jobs- the ones where they come back from an 8 hour shift to manage a household full of people while simultaneously cooking dinner, changing diapers, and paying bills in their down time. Oh, and then there’s the expectation to look more fabulous, be more thin, and have even better skin later in life than any generation before us.
And it would be one thing if the same expectations applied to men, but that’s simply not the case. One job is plenty for them, and their grey hair makes them distinguished. As long as our guy is treating us right, his potbelly (or “sympathy” weight as some people call it during a woman’s pregnancy, actually making the guy come off kind of sweet and sensitive for getting fat) can be celebrated as down right cute.
Take this Nivea ad, for instance:
Seriously? Ads oriented towards women feature extremely thin girls who are then airbrushed to look even more thin and perfect, and contemporary diet gurus are encouraging women to avoid solid food for 30 days and work out 90 minutes a day for six days a week in order to defy genetics and obtain the body we’ve always wanted. And men? What is their gold standard?
Look like you give a damn.
Awesome.
Glad I understand the parameters. That said, I’m about to jump back into this madness and try to stake my claim while unloading, both literally and metaphorically, the proverbial lady pouch. So here’s my attempt to work my way through all the bodycentric madness and simply start trying, like all the dudes around me, to look like I give a damn. Hope you’ll come along for the ride.
This month, our summer travels have come to an end and we aren’t expecting guests for a while, so it’s time to chart a new course. I’m sure people with more discipline than me can navigate the fun while observing healthy and moderate consumption, but as a species I’m just not that highly evolved. At least not yet. Anyone who has functional pointers about indulging while on vacay without blowing it out of the water, please feel free to share.
My goal is to explore/try/research/discuss different ideas relating to wellness that are floating around in the ether right now, and commit myself to avoiding a life of excess and eating much more consciously. I also want to move my ass and breathe deeper while finding ways to marry what sometimes seems the impossible: Health AND Vanity. We’ll see how it goes.
I had a rich conversation with one of my best friends a few months ago about the psychological components of weight loss. Letting go of our extra layers- whether we built them out of protection, depression, negligence, or anger- is also very much about letting go of excess weight in our emotional life. I feel that keenly in my personal and physical life right now, and I’m determined to re-negotiate it.
So I’m starting with my lady pouch. I mentioned in an earlier post that I had a baby 17 months ago, and one of the party favors left over from the pregnancy is a stomach full of sleeping muscles and stored fat that I once heard a trainer refer to as a “lady pouch.” Hmmmm. What might I be hiding in my said pouch, you might ask?
Observations. Lots of them. Like here's one for starters:
There’s no f***ing gender equity in America.
Sure, we’ve got Title IV and company initiatives to try and “balance the boardroom”, but what about the perceived expectations of women in our society outside of the workplace? For many of my working mother friends, it’s not their day jobs that they struggle with. It’s their night jobs- the ones where they come back from an 8 hour shift to manage a household full of people while simultaneously cooking dinner, changing diapers, and paying bills in their down time. Oh, and then there’s the expectation to look more fabulous, be more thin, and have even better skin later in life than any generation before us.
And it would be one thing if the same expectations applied to men, but that’s simply not the case. One job is plenty for them, and their grey hair makes them distinguished. As long as our guy is treating us right, his potbelly (or “sympathy” weight as some people call it during a woman’s pregnancy, actually making the guy come off kind of sweet and sensitive for getting fat) can be celebrated as down right cute.
Take this Nivea ad, for instance:
Seriously? Ads oriented towards women feature extremely thin girls who are then airbrushed to look even more thin and perfect, and contemporary diet gurus are encouraging women to avoid solid food for 30 days and work out 90 minutes a day for six days a week in order to defy genetics and obtain the body we’ve always wanted. And men? What is their gold standard?
Look like you give a damn.
Awesome.
Glad I understand the parameters. That said, I’m about to jump back into this madness and try to stake my claim while unloading, both literally and metaphorically, the proverbial lady pouch. So here’s my attempt to work my way through all the bodycentric madness and simply start trying, like all the dudes around me, to look like I give a damn. Hope you’ll come along for the ride.
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
SIX WEEKS TO SKINNY
When I initiated this blog, the first title that came to my mind was “Six Weeks to Skinny.” My intention was to try and have six weeks of devoted “mindful eating” and exercise as I was staring a beach trip in the face and felt with some level of desperation that it was really, finally, absolutely time to get my ass in gear. Sixteen months ago I gave birth to an amazing little girl, and my life has pretty much been chaos ever since. To say it’s been organized chaos would actually be a stretch. I got pregnant 5 months into my marriage (there goes the honeymoon phase) quite unexpectedly, and on some days feel that the level of adjustment being a wife AND a mom require are just too much for me. And I have a full time job. And I fancy myself a writer. Most days I wander around in a sort of functional haze, trying to find creative ways to fix my hair so it’s not painfully obvious that I haven’t showered in a week.
At any rate, when I found myself eating ice cream every evening as a way to make myself feel like I’d really “enjoyed” something that day, I knew it was time to re-think things. Getting in long and torturing work-outs was not an option because
A) I don’t do long and torturous work outs- really, why would I? and
B) My time and our financial resources are as tight as they’ve ever been
The solution I was looking for had to be realistic, pleasurable, affordable, and at least kind of interesting.
So I started a blog.
I know, I know- not the most active of pursuits. But hopefully it’s a way for me to rally my spirit, do something I love (communicate!), and hold myself accountable as I re-fashion my image as a super fabulous 30-something young, hip, attractive mommy who thinks. A stretch? Maybe. Hence the name of the blog. Most days you would have to feed me quaaludes on top of a margarita to convince me that I could be a skinny optimist, but we all need something to strive for.
Skinny is obvious. I want my bikini back. Not that I’ve ever had a hot bikini body, but I do feel very convinced that diet and exercise are essential to my well-being and only come through self-care. I suppose it's really about feeling good in my own skin. Though it would be awesome to feel good in my own skin in a bikini- is that too much to ask? Skinny remains an ideal as much as anything- albeit abstract at times- and I look forward to unpacking the concept of skinny more in these entries.
I’m guessing that optimism is self-explanatory. In these days of functional haze, hope and faith are the gold standard in my life. Present, sure, but not always accessible. It’s only in my ability to really imagine and envision a better me, a better life, a better marriage, and a better future for my daughter that the tiny articulations of the skinny optimist begin to take shape. Ambitious? Yes. Possible? I think so. There’s beauty, after all, in the valor of attempt.
At any rate, when I found myself eating ice cream every evening as a way to make myself feel like I’d really “enjoyed” something that day, I knew it was time to re-think things. Getting in long and torturing work-outs was not an option because
A) I don’t do long and torturous work outs- really, why would I? and
B) My time and our financial resources are as tight as they’ve ever been
The solution I was looking for had to be realistic, pleasurable, affordable, and at least kind of interesting.
So I started a blog.
I know, I know- not the most active of pursuits. But hopefully it’s a way for me to rally my spirit, do something I love (communicate!), and hold myself accountable as I re-fashion my image as a super fabulous 30-something young, hip, attractive mommy who thinks. A stretch? Maybe. Hence the name of the blog. Most days you would have to feed me quaaludes on top of a margarita to convince me that I could be a skinny optimist, but we all need something to strive for.
Skinny is obvious. I want my bikini back. Not that I’ve ever had a hot bikini body, but I do feel very convinced that diet and exercise are essential to my well-being and only come through self-care. I suppose it's really about feeling good in my own skin. Though it would be awesome to feel good in my own skin in a bikini- is that too much to ask? Skinny remains an ideal as much as anything- albeit abstract at times- and I look forward to unpacking the concept of skinny more in these entries.
I’m guessing that optimism is self-explanatory. In these days of functional haze, hope and faith are the gold standard in my life. Present, sure, but not always accessible. It’s only in my ability to really imagine and envision a better me, a better life, a better marriage, and a better future for my daughter that the tiny articulations of the skinny optimist begin to take shape. Ambitious? Yes. Possible? I think so. There’s beauty, after all, in the valor of attempt.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)