Guess where I’ll be this weekend

Will I be attending a cake-eating convention? Have I signed up for a couch-azzing marathon? Those things sure do sound enticing, but…

Nothing says “weekend family time” like a trip to watch low-level wrestlers stomp the hell outta each other inside the ring. This family field trip was personally selected by yours truly, and will no doubt seal the deal on my Mother of the Year merit badge.

Thank you very much.

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Hello from “Where Have I Been?”

My whereabouts since my last blog entry isn’t a great mystery, but I wanted to explain where I’ve been and to let you know this will be my last blog entry for awhile. It’s not that maintenance is more or less important than any other responsibility or event that make up my life. Writing about it, however, takes time, and the things vying for my time this summer are many. My brother still suffers the affects of the series of petit mal seizures he endured in June 2011. As his power of attorney, his complicated and difficult journey is also mine, and the weight of that responsibility is daunting at times. I say this not to garner sympathy, but to send out empathy to all of you who, in addition to living your own lives, caretake in someone else’s. Two pieces of good news are taking up my time: 1) Daughter Carlene is getting married in October! Originally slated for April, they moved up the wedding not because of a baby, but because, quoting Carlene, “We just want to be married.” No better reason than that! Let the frenzy begin. 2) Grandbaby #4 will arrive in February! #4 was not planned, but sometimes the best things in life are serendipitous. To update you on ages, Claire will be 5 in October, Luca was 3 in May, and Maelie is 18 months old. I said to Luca the other day, “So, your mommy’s having a baby?” and he said, “Yeah, but we’re keeping Mae.” I couldn’t tell by his voice if he was relieved or resigned. I hope he gets a brother, but even though he tolerates Mae, he insists he wants another sister. And while on the surface that sounds sweet, I think he knows if it’s a boy he’ll have to share his room.Within the planning, the watching children, my brother’s issues, I’ve managed to read several books ("Good in Bed" by Jennifer Weiner is fabulous!) and ride many miles on my bike. One of my favorite things this year was meeting another Internet friend, Lori from Finding Radiance. She’s as down to earth in person as she is on her blog. The woman knows her way around a bagel and a latte as much as a bike path and dumbbells. She’s taught me more about balance than any gymnast could. Her blog is a highly recommended read!School starts again in 10 days. Chemistry, Algebra... ‘Nuff said. Even though this will be my last post for awhile, our dialogue can continue. I will still post on Lynn’s Weigh on Facebook, so I hope you’ll join us there. If you don’t do social media, that’s fine, too. Know that I wish you well in your journey, wherever you are on that path, and I will be back.

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where do you find your REAL motivation?

The above took far more than the call of the skinny jeans. 

Or the beckoning of the bikini.

*Or* the summoning of the sexy college senior.

Click on running-me to find out precisely what…

I am an Attune Foods brand ambassador.  This is a sponsored post.  The beer-drinking-through straw and awkward bleached hair are both my own.

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Tags: Attune Foods, longterm motivation

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Weekend Quote: You Decide Where the Chain Stops.

Kayla sent me this note a few weeks ago…

Being a binge eater and constantly fighting this eating and losing weight battle, I thought you would like this quote. “One bad morning does not make for a bad day, One bad day does not make for a bad week, one bad week does not make for a bad month, one bad month does not make for a bad year. You decide where the chain stops.”

We really do decide, don’t we? Sometimes I take the ownership of it all for granted.

This reminded me of a Weekend Quote from last year. Click here to read How Many Eggs Have You Thrown Away?

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Where There’s Fish, There’s Tartar Sauce

Many of you probably saw this photo on Lynn’s Weigh on Facebook: pickled herring at a salad bar. Only in Minnesota. And apparently Wisconsin. And maybe even North Dakota, but that hasn’t been verified yet.
I love herring. Grew up eating it out of the jar, same way I slugged orange juice from the container with the fridge door open. Of course at the herring salad bar last week, being the good Norwegian vegetarian I am, I put together a salad sans fish. The dressings weren’t marked, so I put a few that I recognized – or thought I recognized – on a plate to dip my salad in. I walked back to the table, where my brother was cutting into an egg (over-easy). It was the first day he’d been hungry in weeks due to an adverse reaction to an anti-seizure drug. He’d developed every side effect known including mood swings and lack of appetite – two things Minnesota Norwegians are not known for. So the whole wheat toast, sausage and hash browns that lined the periphery of his plate didn’t bother me one bit. The man is 6’1, weighs 150 pounds, and hasn’t enjoyed a bite of food since his 12-hour brain beating in late June. He’d earned some food love. Uncle Bonehead with our niece MichaelaI dived into my salad, dipping forkfuls into a little of this dressing, a little of that dressing, a little of…what the…? 
“Oh my gosh,” I exclaimed in my reacquired Minnesota accent. “That’s tartar sauce!”
Marty looked up from his plate and, without missing a beat, said, “What did you expect? Where there’s fish, there’s tartar sauce.”
Since arriving a week ago, I’ve felt a little like herring at a salad bar. Something not expected, but when you look at it in its context (Minnesota = herring), it makes sense.
Recently I’ve been struggling with a changing body and changing metabolism; gaining a bit of weight and not working out like I want to because of physical issues. The “salad bar” that is my maintenance got thrown a big old herring last week when I flew out to Minnesota to help take care of my brother. It’s not that I can’t eat healthy on the go. I’m the queen of eating healthy. But that herring – my Achilles Heel – is that when I get stressed and totally focused, I tend to eat haphazardly or not understand or care how something’s prepared, and...holy crapola…I consume the white flour. I wake up every morning with the intention of eating clean, but sometimes I end the day wondering what the hell I ate.
But where there’s fish, there’s tartar sauce. And today, that surprising “dip of the salad” was a bike ride through the hidden places behind tree-lined neighborhoods and out of sight from the freeways I’ve driven a million times.
My brother is (not at the moment, but will be again) an avid biker. He has a kickass hybrid, and its just the right size to accommodate my long legs. He brought it out for me and made sure the air pressure was right. The seat was a piece of heaven on my butt, and the grippers on his pedals are what I’ll be asking for when my birthday rolls around in a few weeks. I started out on the Cedar Lake Trail and ran into a whole lot of others. Marty doesn’t have an odometer on his bike, so I don’t know how far I went, but it took me 70 minutes to do it. It was the best bike ride of my life. And this:

And I rode underneath the walkway to Target Field, where I was yesterday on the comfy club level, thanks to tix from a very nice boss :)

Yesterday at Target Field on a much needed break with my awesomely cool sister-in-law:

This has been a challenging week for me, no doubt. But it’s way more challenging, of course, for Marty. He’s been thrown a herring the size of a Volkswagen, and those of us involved with his care are trying…trying…to find him some tartar sauce. Strange analogy, I know. But we’re Minnesotans. We get it, don’t ya know? Yah…I’m sure you do, eh.Thank you so much for keeping Marty in your thoughts. Seeing him cry is killer. Killer. Marty's a good guy who just needs a break and a whole lot of time to heal. We're all just praying his brain cooperates.

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Bikini Monday: BodyRock.Tv Is Where It’s At

Frivolous Demands: *Subscribe to the blog *Follow me on Twittah *Like me on Facebook *YouTube my videos

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I enjoy my Shakeology on most days of the week and have significantly reduced my cravings and experienced weight loss, better digestion, more energy (which is priceless to me with 4 child-spawns) and a better mood. You can also find out what doctors are saying about Shakeology.

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Greenberry: 16g protein and 140 calories. View the nutrition label.

90 Days of Shakeology: My Experiment

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The Post Where I Talk About Fat People

Yes. I am talking about the people who are fat. Obese. Overweight. Chubby. Curvy. Big-boned. Eh, whatever you want to call it. But it’s not what you think.

Before I began my healthy living journey I didn’t have an opinion about overweight people one way or the other. I barely noticed them. Yet when I first started to eat right and exercise, they began to stick out to me  – I noticed them more, and then I DID start to have an opinion.

My (flawed) thinking was that ALL obese people – every last one of them – eats too much and doesn’t care for their own well-being. But, hey, that’s their own business. If they wanted to live that way it was fine by me. I had no further opinion about it. End of story.

But that’s how I used to think.

Since being in this blogging game for awhile I’ve struck up some fantastic friendships with beautiful people off all shapes, sizes, races and genders. I talk with them online in the open social media environment. I chat with some via email or on the phone. I’ve even met up with some in person.

…and of all this “getting to know people” has changed me.

I no longer see fat, thin, big, tall, etc when I relate to people. I love all people. I really do! I just see the awesome person that they are and I’m thankful to know them. Sure, are there definitely some peeps whom I’ve known in my life that really DO eat too much and don’t care for their own well-being. Unfortunately, yes. But let’s remove them from the conversation right now. It’s not about them.

Back in the day when I was judging an overweight person without knowing them or their situation, it was the same as someone judging ME because I’m black. That’s happened to me plenty and it doesn’t feel good either. Why not get to know a person first and understand who they are, right?

After watching shows like Heavy and Too Fat For Fifteen (both of which I appreciate very much for helping me to further understand the “why” behind obesity in many cases), I now understand more than ever that being overweight is not always a cut and dry situation.

There may be an eating disorder or other medical condition. It could be a traumatic event from their past – maybe a death in the family, physical or emotional abuse, or even abandonment. There could be an emotional trigger, like stress, loneliness, feeling unwanted or unloved.

I’m sure I haven’t covered the entire gamut of what might make a person struggle with their weight, but if it’s YOU that is struggling – if you desire change and you’re working on it, but have only been met with criticism and finger pointing and whispers and snarky remarks from people who haven’t even bothered to get to know you first, I’m writing this post to embrace you with open arms – to acknowledge your situation, your feelings and your struggle.

I can only hope there will be more people who will “see the light” as I have and respect you as well. This type of acceptance might very well spark a greater empowerment for the overweight person to be healed from their past, to experience recovery, or to simply be happy and free to create new, healthy habits without having to deal with other people’s judgmental ignorance.

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Where Do You Go For Support?

This weeks I’m doing an Ask Roni and a Question of the Week all rolled into one REALLY long post.

A few days ago I got an email from Laura (who recently wrote this post that brought me to tears.) Laura asked where I go for support and I thought I’d answer and then pass the mic to you. Here is her original email…

Hi Roni,

Just listened to your latest Ask Roni podcast, and I’m thinking about the upcoming birth of your baby, and wondering how you will deal with the changes. I don’t want to freak you out, but I’m sure you’re already wondering how it’s going to be different, and how you will make sure to take the time you need for yourself in the midst of it all. I’m hoping your hubby has been briefed on how he will play a big role in keeping you sane. 

All of this brings me to my question: where do you go for support? You keep it all so together for us, answer our questions, give us strength and motivation… but where do you go when you need the same? We all need that wise person who has been there done that, and for many of us that person is consistently you. I hope you have a fitness/health/food guru that you can go to that will give you sagely advice when you need it. 

In the meantime though, don’t be afraid to complain to us when you need to, and to ask for help. You are the expert on many things, but I know a lot of your readers out there have 2 or more children and still manage to keep it together (most of the time). 

Blessings to you, your little ones, and your big one,
Laura

First of all Laura, I need to thank you for being so supportive of me. I know people don’t think or believe this but I do read each and every comment and I actually remember many commenters, especially if I peak at their blog or email addresses. I can’t respond to each one or participate on other’s blogs as much as I’d like but I do try (note: this goes back to a question I recently answered in last weeks podcast. I don’t make excuses, I simply do the best I can and it will have to be good enough.)

Anyway, Laura, I’m not going to lie, I’m freaking out a little. OK, a LOT. First of all, I really never thought I’d be pregnant again. I never wanted nor needed, two babies. Once the husband and I got into a groove with Ryan, I really didn’t want to add another variable. Between work and house and kid and blogs, I had MORE than enough to keep me busy. I really felt another baby would simply be the straw that broke the camels back.

Once I started preparing Little Man for Kindergarten all that changed. I felt that biological-clock-baby-itch deep in my soul. Something, or should I say someone, was missing. I started to assess my situation again. My business was doing well. Well enough for me consider working for myself exclusively. Ryan was older and more independent. We recently moved to a larger home. All of a sudden the thought of another child didn’t seem so scary or impossible. The thought of another baby actually excited me.

I was ready. I am ready…. but that doesn’t mean I’m not freaking out!

Sometimes it hits me square in the face… I’m having a BABY!

OH FOR THE LOVE OF GOD WHAT AM I DOING?

I spent the last 5 years recovering from the first one. "Recovering" may be an odd choice of words but seriously those that have kids know it’s the biggest life changing thing EVER! Kids are a strain on your relationship. They are a strain on your bank account. A strain on your sanity.

Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t trade being mommy for anything in the world. I just LOOK at Ryan and he melts my soul. It’s seriously the most amazing love affair I’ve ever had.

Except for when it isn’t and I want to strangle him.

I’m only partially joking. ;)

In all seriousness though, he changed me. All babies change your situation, sure. But really, I feel like a different person since becoming a mom. He made everything "click". I started to look at my body differently. I treated myself differently. I held myself differently. I was more confident. More sure of what I wanted and who I wanted to be. He helped me realize life was passing me by as I dreamed of being skinny.

In a weird way HE is my support. He keeps me going because the alternative just isn’t acceptable. I refuse to "go back" for that reason alone. I can’t let him down.

However, I don’t quite think that is the kind of support you were asking about. Although he is my ultimate motivation I also need a helping hand now and then and I get that from, well, you.

I discovered long ago that I’m the kind of person that helps herself by helping others. When I taught web development full time it was my students that kept me sharp. I’ve never been afraid to say "I don’t know." and when I did we would discover the answers together. We learned together.

THAT is how I treat this blog and GreenLiteBites. I don’t know how to cook everything. I’m not trained in the kitchen. I barely knew the difference between chopped and diced when I launched GreenLiteBites BUT I’m not afraid to try and those that want to join me on some cooking adventures teach me while I’m teaching them. We learn together. We grow together. We experience together.

When I’m answering questions here on Roni’s Weigh I’m unraveling a bit of myself that I didn’t know before. I’m exploring thoughts and feelings that I would have never considered if you didn’t ask. When I’m inspired to write a post it’s normally because I need to hear it myself. Because of you, I have that outlet.

So when you ask "where do you go for support?" well, I go here, as egotistical as that sounds. It’s true. I come here and I post. I vent. I write a note to self. I explore some feeling and ask you to share yours.

I also turn to facebook and twitter. When I don’t feel like working out, I ask for a shove out the door. When I’m frustrated after feeding a picky husband and 5 year old, I vent and get a real time pat on the back for trying. The support is out there you just have to ask for it and I have NO problems asking.

I’m not sure that’s the answer you were looking for as I don’t turn to a specific fitness/health/food guru. I do scour the web for tips, tricks, recipe ideas, inspiration, and information but I don’t have that many "go-tos" I’m much more of a surfer. Basically, I take what I need from a variety of places and never fear asking a question.

Thanks, yet again, Laura, for getting me to sit down and do some soul searching. This post was exactly what I needed to write tonight.

Now, if you made it this far, I’m curious where YOU go for support. Your spouse? Friends? Parents? Online community? Twitter? Who or what is your pillar?

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At the US National Figure Skating Championships. (Where, alas, I did not get to ride the Zamboni.)

Last November I saw a TV ad for the National Figure Skating Championships being held in Greensboro, NC in January. Being highly susceptible to advertising and sequins, I bought a ticket to the Skating Spectacular. That’s the exhibition held after the competition where the skaters get to have fun and dance to music with lyrics. I drive an hour to Greensboro all the time to see my headache doctor, so it was no big deal. And I already knew where to pick up a Cheerwine slushie on the way out of town.

I got my ticket early, so I scored awesome seats in the second row, right behind an Alka-Seltzer Plus ad. (That’s not why this photo looks like it’s from Picasso’s blue period. That was just the low lighting.) The lady sitting next to me thought they were horrible seats and started to complain about how the stadium sucked and her hotel was too far away, whah, whah, whah. This made me realize that your attitude affects 90% of how you perceive life. I thought they were great seats and I was stoked. Complainy Bitchmonster decided she was going to be miserable and whined all the way home.

Thankfully, I was then distracted by the Zamboni, and mildly tempted to hop on board to escape my seatmate.

I’ve never seen an ice skating event in person, so it was cool to see how high the skaters actually jump, how they move around the rink, and how fast the spins look outside of a TV’s 30 scan lines per minute. It was great to have actual depth perception instead of a flat 2D image. The oddest thing was to be watching an ice skating event without hearing Scott Hamilton’s voice in my head during the whole thing. I had no idea if skaters were doing double-axels or sit spins or twizzles. People jumped all spinny like, that’s all I know. I did spot the NBC commentators on their own special platform, though we didn’t get to hear them. I guess you have to pay for cable for that. They also glowed because they are saintly, or because TV lights can melt plastic.

I liked seeing the little sweeper girls skate around the rink after each performance picking up stuffed bears, roses and…frisbees? Uh, ok. I bet that job is SUCH A BIG DEAL to those girls, because it sure would be to me. They remind me of the ball boys at tennis matches. They have this rather simple, yet highly public job, which would probably make me freak out and accidentally decapitate a teddy bear with my skate on national television. They did a good job, and no one fell on there faces or their asses.

I also got to see a few performances that are probably cut out of the national broadcast, like the synchronized skating team. I did not know synchronized skating teams exist. It was like watching a marching band on ice. (Has anyone done a marching band on ice, yet? If not, it was totally my idea first!) I played flute in marching band Freshman year, and I still remember feeling totally inept at staying in formation. So, way to go girls! They also did a spinning pinwheel, which makes me wonder if the girls in the middle ever go really fast if they’re pissed at the girls at the very end so they’ll go whipping into the walls.

My favorite skater of the night was Jeremy Abbott, who surprisingly finished 4th. He must have lost a skate or knocked over a judge during competition because he was awesome. He did a routine with a hat, which easily could have been cheesy. Yet he did lots of creative things with it and had the stage presence to pull the whole thing off. The kid put on his hat while doing a jump, so the dude’s got skills. I hope he’s not underage, because I’m not ready to be a dirty old woman.

One guy pulled off this cool move where he was skating like a snowboarder who jumps in the air and grabs their board. Except he was on the ice the whole time, crouched down balancing in a way I would have thought impossible. He must be a lot of fun in a conga line. There was also a little girl who did a routine to the Glee mashup version of Rhiannon’s “Umbrella” and “Singing in the Rain” which I enjoyed. Another girl went into a spin, and holy shit, she was spinning like a hand mixer. Hand that girl some eggs, she’ll make you an omelet right on the ice. She became a human blur. I don’t know how she didn’t fall over dizzy after that. Speaking of blurs, here’s Evan Lysacek aka The Flash:

Yes, he moves so fast he is a human blur! Or, I had my camera on a low shutter speed to accommodate the low lighting. One or the other. Evan won the Olympic gold medal last year, so he wasn’t competing. He just came to show us how it’s done. It was quietly thrilling to know I was watching one of the best skaters in the world perform right in front of me. There are literally only a dozen or so people in the world at this moment who can perform at his level. The sound guy evidently isn’t one of them because he started off Evan’s performance with the wrong music! I think Evan got a kick out of if though, and after a short delay he skated his performance.

At the very end of the show, all the skaters came out for one last bow. Then they started grabbing t-shirts, stuffed animals, and frisbees from a table and threw them at us, which is only fair since they have to dodge that stuff all the time. It was rather funny to watch skaters hurling things because they’d glide backwards suddenly, demonstrating Newton’s law that every action has an equal and opposite reaction. I managed to catch a frisbee, and not just any frisbee…

This frisbee is signed by John Coughlin and Caitlin Yankowskas who won the gold medal in the pairs competition! I am the owner of honest-to-God ice skating memorabilia! It was totally worth the ticket price.

"Smart, unflinchingly honest, and laugh-out-loud funny."– Lisa Genova, New York Times bestselling author of Still Alice

PastaQueen.com is a fascist regime ruled with a benevolent fist by PastaQueen and the macaroni military. Lively discussion is encouraged, but any comment may be deleted or edited according to the whims of your monarch. Please read the official rules of commenting etiquette for more details. Spammers are publicly beheaded and their blood is mixed into our spaghetti sauce. Comments are occasionally disabled some time after an entry has been posted to keep the blog on a spam-free diet.

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It’s weight-loss season! (An entry where I overuse parenthetical comments.)

I can tell it’s weight-loss season because I’ve gotten more emails asking for weight-loss advice in the past two weeks than I did for the last two months. I think some people are finding this site and my email address after they purchased my book Half-Assed: A Weight-Loss Memoir. If so, thanks for buying the book! I truly appreciate the support. Eighteen months ago I quit my job to freelance full-time as a web designer and writer. (That’s right. I stuck it to the man! And the man has yet to stick me back.) So, I depend on book royalties to pay rent and buy lots of chocolate healthy veggies. I guess that means it’s really my landlord and Food Lion that thank you.

In the interest of full disclosure, I want to reiterate a fact that I’ve blogged about and posted on my About page, which is that in the past three years I’ve gained back about 50 pounds from my lowest weight. This was mainly due to a never-ending headache from hell, but eventually apathy and boredom snuck in there, too. So much so that for the past few months I haven’t been eating that healthy, nor have I been exercising regularly. So, when people write me asking how to lose weight (or “loose” weight, because the only thing worse than too much weight is tight weight) I’ve felt an urge to reply, “I dunno! Ask someone else! And bring me a cookie!”

However, it’s the new year, and the resolution I made six years ago (Dear God, has it been that long? Am I really 30?) worked out pretty well, so I thought I’d make another one. My resolution isn’t to start a diet or run another half-marathon or anything like that, it’s just to make better food choices and to work out at least three times a week.

There is a part of me that looks back on the time when I was exercising 6 days a week for 30-60 minutes and cooking dinner every night and thinks, “You should jump right back into that again!” But there is a more realistic part of me that thinks it’s silly to go from 0 to maniac in a day. Working out 3 days a week is better than working out none. I also think diets are silly, so I prefer to frame my new eating behavior in my mind as “making better choices.” If I make better food choices, choices that do not involve buying Krispy Kreme donuts at 10 o’clock at night, than I’m doing better than I was before, even if I’m not eating as healthy as I did at my peak. Really, it all comes down to choices. Everything in life comes down to choices, outside of what we can’t control like earthquakes and tsunamis and neighbors who play bagpipes.

I’ve been keeping a food diary, recording my weight on the wall calendar every day and then writing my exercise for the day down next to it. (And if you haven’t done Pilates or lifted weights for over a year, be prepared not to be lifting anything for three days afterward. Or sitting up.) So, I’ve got a plan, I’ve got accountability, and it’s been going pretty well for the past week. Then I’ll make it through the next week and the week after that, just like I have with my headache. One day at a time, people.

Most important of all, besides the optimism and hope of change that comes with the new year, I feel like I’m more mentally in the game right now that I have been for any time in the past few years. In that time I’ve had to deal with an ongoing medical problem, learn how to manage my own business, and I moved to another state. There was a lot of shit going on, and weight loss honestly wasn’t that important. I still weigh over 100 pounds less than I did at my heaviest, so it’s not like my weight has been making me miserable and trapping me in my home like it used to. I’m not back at square one, I’m back at square 50 out of 200. It’s been manageable, if not optimal, which might be why weight loss hasn’t been the primary occupation in my life like it was when it was destroying my life.

Right now I’m feeling my freelancing groove, I’ve settled into my new home, and my headache has been staying pretty steady at a 1 out of 5 on my latest medication cocktail. (Unfortunately it has the side effect of making my heart skip beats occasionally, which the doctor says is not a big deal nor is it the life-threatening, call-911-NOW-PLEASE!!! condition you would immediately assume it is when you feel your heart pause and then make a big THUMPing jumpstart. It’s freaky, but better than a headache!)

So, here we go 2011! Here’s to better choices! My heart’s already skipping a beat in anticipation.

PastaQueen.com is a fascist regime ruled with a benevolent fist by PastaQueen and the macaroni military. Lively discussion is encouraged, but any comment may be deleted or edited according to the whims of your monarch. Please read the official rules of commenting etiquette for more details. Spammers are publicly beheaded and their blood is mixed into our spaghetti sauce. Comments are occasionally disabled some time after an entry has been posted to keep the blog on a spam-free diet.

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