The equivalent of tongue-tied

I guess that would be writer’s block, hmm?

Not much to say this morning. I try to throw up a daily post during the week, taking the weekends off. (Which is ridiculous, because I don’t have a 9-to-5 weekday job; I have seven-day weekends every week.) But sometimes there’s just nothing in my brain that needs to come out.

Lessee, I finished painting the end table bases yesterday and they look great. I recovered the lampshades and they look “homemade with love,” if you know what I mean. But they’ll do; I might be overly critical of my fabric-glue skills. My husband didn’t even notice! I guess if they were truly ugly he would have said something.

I’m knitting four little bunnies for Easter gifts for the four younger grandchildren. I think the 8- and 12-year-olds are beyond the stuffed bunny stage, and I’m sure they do, too. This is the simplest pattern in the world – knit a square, sew a few strategic stitches, stuff it and you’re done.

I found time over the weekend to walk on the treadmill both days, about 40 minutes each time. Today looks like a great day to walk outside. I have a haircut appointment at 1 p.m. and my volunteer gig at the prison tonight, so that means a morning walk and no time to work on any house projects today.

I’m anxious to start sanding and priming a curio cabinet that is currently a hideous gold color. I’m going to paint it dark red, to match our couch, and then apply a mahogany stain to it. Then I’m going to sand some of the edges to make it look all shabby-chic. I just hope it works.

Still maintaining that 8-pound loss. I’m pretty much convinced that in order to lose more I’ll have to go back to Phase 1 for more than two weeks. I’m not quite ready yet, but I’m getting there.

I wasn’t so tongue-tied after all, was I?

Unfinished business

I’m the kind of person who, as a rule, likes to finish a project in one session. There are obvious exceptions, of course – knitting comes immediately to mind. But I don’t really count knitting as a ‘project.’ Knitting is more of a process for me, something to keep my hands busy while I watch television sports.

It is for this reason that I’m not much of a seamstress. When I do sew, I’ll cut the pattern out one day and set the entire next day aside for the actual sewing part. Which is, most of the time, unrealistic.

And because I know this about myself, it’s pretty freaking amazing that anything ever got painted. Buying the supplies was one thing; actually moving the furniture, taping the windows/woodwork, putting the rest of my life on hold and opening the paint can was another. I can hide the supplies in a box behind the couch and pretend they’re not there. But, eventually, I have to bite the bullet and accept that my living space is going to be chaotic for a few days.

I’d love to report that the painting/redecorating project is done, done, done, but alas – it isn’t. The part of the space remaining to be painted is very tall and I’m … not. I need to borrow a tall ladder before I can continue. Do you know how much this is driving me crazy?

It’s kind of like a body remodeling project, isn’t it? We decide what we’re going to do, get rid of the junk, gather the proper supplies and get started, full of enthusiasm and energy. In the beginning we don’t think about how long it’s going to take or if we ever will, actually, finish. We tweak it as we go along, compromising on some things, adding something new once in a while, trying different workout regimens or recipes. All to keep things interesting and to give us the illusion that we’re making progress.

I ran out of paint for the end tables yesterday, which means a trip to Lowe’s to replenish supplies. And since Wal-Mart is right across the street from Lowe’s, I might as well replenish some food supplies while I’m at it.

I might even pick up some fabric for a little sewing project I have in mind.

Friday Quote Day

The difference between what we do
and what we are capable of doing
would solve most of the world’s problems.
~ Gandhi

I’m perfectly willing to let my President solve the world’s problems. He seems to know what he’s doing.

I’m going to assume Gandhi’s advice works on a personal level, as well.

I lost a bunch of weight more than a dozen years ago. (Today is my older granddaughter’s 12th birthday, and I know I was thin when she was born. Not thin-ner – thin.) I lost that weight via a combination of Xtreme dieting and Xtreme exercising. Meaning, I was eating an almost-no-fat diet and I worked out two hours a day. Every day. In a gym. And I ran a mile to and from the gym. Every day.

I may not be capable of doing that any more, considering I’m a dozen years older. Age takes its toll on our stamina and abilities. But the truth is, I’m not even willing to try.

The no-fat diet was a mistake. Yes, I lost weight, but I also lost the ability to stay warm. My skin was dry, flaky and itchy; my hair was dull and lifeless. The only meal I enjoyed was breakfast, which was a hot, fresh-from-the-0ven bagel. No cream cheese. No butter. Just a plain bagel, which I ate at my desk when I got to work.

The workout plan probably wasn’t a mistake. Obviously I handled it, even looked forward to it. Could I do it again? Maybe. But I’d have to do a complete overhaul of my thinking in order to even come close. Working out in a gym – my gym – was very motivating. The trainers all knew my name and had seen me get smaller. I knew many of the members and enjoyed talking with them while we sweated it out on the stairmaster or treadmill. My home gym doesn’t have the same rah-rah atmosphere. The equipment is here, but I don’t have any cheerleaders.

I can certainly walk outside for two hours at a stretch, and have done it many times. There’s something about being outdoors that makes time kind of slip away. When I’m on the rower or treadmill, though, I’m watching the clock the whole time.

And time is the key, it seems, for me to burn enough calories to make a difference.

This past week I’ve been doing a different kind of workout, the all-day, work-your-ass-off, day-laborer kind of physical activity that stretches your body and makes your muscles sore, but doesn’t raise your heart rate or burn fat. So it’s been another week of seeing the same number on the scale.

What I’ve learned from all this house-work is that I’m capable of performing sustained activity, and that I enjoy it. Most of the time. It’s tiring, but I can see progress at the end of the day.

I just don’t get that satisfaction from exercise machines.

Not only is it time for change in D.C., it’s time for a change in my attitude.

Debbi's Believe It or Not

I miss running. No, I really do! Now that the weather has officially turned from winter to spring, I feel ready to run. I had hoped to lose more weight by the time I started stepping it up, but oh, well.

Next time I hit the road (which, due to having to apply more paint to the woodwork, and then putting the living room back together, won’t be today) I’ll be doing an alternating walk/run plan until I can continuously run three miles without stopping.

You runners know what that means … a training program is in my future. But it’s a distant future; I have no spring or summer races planned. Might do Richmond again in November. (But don’t tell my husband.)

Like Marla, I’m finding that all-day physical labor can accomplish great and unexpected things. (Marla, I tried to leave you a comment but it took too long. The problem is on my end. It’s called dial-up.) I’m waking up every morning a little sore from the previous day’s activity – something that just doesn’t happen doing an hour on the treadmill.

Painting is, apparently, a full-body exercise. You just can’t paint baseboards standing up; there is a lot of stretching and bending and kneeling, oh my!

Knowing that I miss running will help me find time for adding it to a full schedule. This painting project is just the beginning. In the near future I’ll be painting another section of the living room (the one where all the furniture is right now), putting a porcelain tile backsplash up in the kitchen, painting picture frames, two end table bases and our dining room table and chairs, spray-painting four bi-fold louvered doors (and more of those in the future), spray-painting all of the wrought-iron patio furniture and planting our “recession” garden.

Honestly, I love being this busy. I wistfully thought about all the time in the past I’ve spent sitting on my ass playing computer Solitaire, and I’ll take doing things any day.

Believe it or not.

Figuring things out

While I was taping around woodwork (and taping, and taping – three sliding glass doors and two doorways, ugh) yesterday, I realized that part of why I am so frustrated with this painting project is that the Clean House team cleans, paints, organizes and redecorates in two or three days! And that guy on 24-Hour Design works a multi-room miracle in a day.

And, of course, by the time I see the results, the whole process has been compressed into a 30- or 60-minute program. With commercials.

I need a reality check, not a reality show. Heh.

Two things have made the process palatable: Diet Coke with Lime and my iPod, which I’ve set to shuffle through the Rock genre while I work.

I’ve been meaning to mention the company that fixed my broken iPod screen. If you ever need anything done to your little magic music-maker, I can highly recommend Juice Your iPod. I was apprehensive about sending my device to an unknown company, so I called them first and they said they get calls like mine all the time. They gave me a time frame (and they returned mine well within that window), charged a fair price and even sent a little bonus gift in the return package.

The taping yesterday took between three and four hours, and then I painted one doorway and one of the sliders, which took 90 minutes. Two sliders and one doorway to go (and the connecting baseboards, which I can really zip through) and I’ll be ready for … the second coat.

This is no longer Debbi’s Redecorating Project. I’ve re-christened it Debbi’s Neverending Redecorating Project.

Note to Lori: I love going to Lowe’s. I am inspired anew every time I wander through the aisles. My husband, naturally, hates going with me, since all he sees are dollar signs and all he hears is ‘cha-ching!’

Derailed

I’ve been painting my living/dining/kitchen area since Wednesday. Wednesday! It’s still not finished. In fact, not much painting happened at all over the weekend. Who knew I would suddenly have so much other stuff to do that I couldn’t finish a job that needs to be finished.

I am sick of walking around furniture. I am sick of eating dinner at a table with paint cans for a centerpiece. I am sick of blue tape. I am sick of bare windows. I am sick of uncovered electrical outlets.

I haven’t had time to walk outside (although I’ve been getting plenty of exercise), and the weather has been just about perfect. I want to be raking dead leaves off the perennials and working on the flower beds. Instead I’ve been chained inside doing a lot of necessary tasks, some of which have been income-producing – their only saving grace.

Whine, whine, whine. Oh, and it’s 5 a.m., too. I’ve been up since 3. Insomnia has been a rare event in my lifetime, but lately? One or two nights a week I wake up between 1 and 3 and can’t get back to sleep.

Maybe I’ll get some painting time in today. After I deliver a graphic design job. And get the oil changed. And go to the bank. And, and, and …

Friday Quote Day

At first, dreams seem impossible,
then improbable,
and eventually inevitable.
~ Christopher Reeve

Who am I to argue with Superman?

When I calculate the amount of weight I have to lose to reach a normal BMI, it does indeed seem impossible, particularly when I think about how many months – or, actually, years – I’ve been trying to lose it. The lowest weight I’ve been recently was in early fall of 2006, when I squeaked in below 160 and fit into a size 12.

(As I’m sure you know, that dress was vanity-sized. I weighed 135 in high school and wore a size 12. That was when a 12 was a 12. And I felt like the fattest girl in 10th grade.)

I’ve gained 20 pounds since 2006, making my goal weight approximately 45 pounds away.

Sometimes I feel like it might as well be 450. I put a lot of effort into eating right and working out consistently for damned little reward.

And then, of course, I trip over a Milky Way and feel like everything I’ve done is a total waste.

There are days, though – sweet, unexpected days – when the scale plays around with a new, lower number, one I haven’t seen in a long time, and my impossible dream does feel like something I could actually reach.

Right now I’d have to say I’m in the “improbable” stage. I feel fairly certain I can lose some weight, but getting to my goal is a far-away, distant dream. I spend very little time regretting what I should have/could have done differently, though.

Everything I’ve done has gotten me to this point, and I’ve learned a lot about myself along the way. For me, bread, crackers and starchy carbs, along with sugar, are guaranteed to stall my weight loss. The first two weeks of South Beach Phase II were fun for me, but I didn’t lose any weight.

I didn’t gain any, either, meaning I’ve already experienced how much fun maintenance can be! So I’m trying to stick with lean protein and vegetables with fruit in limited quantities to see how it goes. I’m sure I’ll throw in a whole-wheat pasta meal once a week or so. I stayed the same weight again this week, but I blame that on the candy bar.

Each morning is an opportunity to renew my commitment. And follow my dream.