Health and Wellness

My own worst enemy

I’ve been reading the most excellent book

called

Gaze Into Heaven.

(review coming soon)

It chronicles near-death

experiences of Mormon pioneers

and it has been life altering for me

as I have pondered

the after-life.

What will it be like for

me to meet my maker

and account for mortality?

I really really hope that

the good outweighs the bad.

As I recently talked with a friend

who has anorexia,

we discussed

how we all seem

to just transfer

one bad behavior to the next.

She started struggling with anorexia

when she was overcoming

a spending problem.

I can’t seem to be disciplined

enough to stay under budget

while also staying under calorie allotment.

And forget being happy and kind

and under budget and under calorie.

It’s going to take me a lifetime

to conquer all of the above

at the same time.

But this morning

while running

I had an epiphany.

It comes from

The Book of Mormon

Mosiah 3:19

19 For the natural man is an enemy to God, and has been from the fall of Adam, and will be, forever and ever, unless he yields to the enticings of the Holy Spirit, and putteth off the natural man and becometh a saint through the atonement of Christ the Lord, and becometh as a child, submissive, meek, humble, patient, full of love, willing to submit to all things which the Lord seeth fit to inflict upon him, even as a child doth submit to his father.

Like a ton of bricks

it hit me all at once.

My mortal body

is my own worst enemy.

My whole purpose

on this earth

is to show that my spirit

can be in charge

of my body.

My body is dead

without my spirit.

My spirit (me) is what makes

me (my body) do or not do anything.

When I struggle with stuff

it’s not my spirit,

it’s the flesh.

The flesh is naughty.

The spirit is perfect.

They are always at odds

with one another.

“Hey body Alice

quit eating so much.”

“Shut up spirit Alice,

you’re so goody-goody.

We’re gonna

eat drink and be merry til we die.”

“Bad idea body Alice,

your spirit

wants to have its glorified form

and it knows a whole lot

more than you do.

I’m smarter.

I’m better

and my whole goal

is to make you perfect.

I’m in charge

so put that doughnut down.

NOW.”

The flesh is weak,

the spirit is strong.

This may seem so simple

to you all,

but it is an epic

principle

that I aim

to use

from now on

when trying to conquer

my transfer of

bad behaviors.

When my flesh is weak

I plan to tap into

that strong strong strong

spirit

and I plan to utilize

the God of all spirits

to help me

whip that body into shape

more often.

"Caroline"

Caroline wants to share a picture of herself.

“Make it bigger mom.”

“Perfect.”

How old are you Caroline?

“4” (she’s three)

What’s your favorite color?

“pink”

Who’s your favorite person?

“I just love you and dad.”

(now she is climbing the treadmill singing

what doesn’t kills you makes you stronger)

“Look mom, this ball of playdoh is dry.

We can’t play with it any more.”

(chucks it at the monitor)

Luckily she missed because it’s harder than a rock.

What else do you want to say?

“I want to say ‘no’ mom.”

No about what?

“No, about nothing.”

“Do you wanna see how you do jumping?”

(She has taken off a piece of the printer

and is catapulting the hard piece of playdoh.)

Have I mentioned this girl

never EVER runs out of energy.

What’s your favorite song?

“I don’t know.

I really want to get back in your lap,

I’m getting so tired.”

(I made her get down shortly before the climb

of the treadmill. She can’t keep her hands off the keyboard.)

“Mommy, I want to see more pictures.”

“Do you want to match this with dad?”

What do you mean?

She points at the text on the monitor.

“Right here, do you want to match this with dad.”

What do you want for your birthday?

“A stone -ger.”

What’s that?

“It means you freeze and play tag.”

(grabs the mouse and clicks on something

that luckily just opens some random window

and doesn’t erase this whole post.)

Caroline.

You are going to ruin the typing.

“I wanna go away from the computer.”

The end.

Oh, the point of the post.

To tell you

Caroline really really really

loves her bigwheel

that I made LG buy her for her

3rd birthday.

It was nostalgic for me

and it has been more than fun

watching her tear through

our neighborhood, the park,

the soccer field,

and anywhere else we let her

tag it along.

Even though I run

approximately 15 miles a week

I can’t even keep up with her

when she’s on that little bike.

We are in trouble

with this one.

She didn’t come with a manual.

Fat

Fat is a nasty word.
The only time it should be used is in regards to the stuff on the backside of a butchered pig.
Fatback is the only time when fat is a good thing.
And what a good thing it is.
Just ask the green beans.

I’ve been called fat. A lot. It sucks.
After watching this video on facebook yesterday, I was perplexed.

I offered the following on my page as a passive aggressive response to a few people I know who judge “fat people.”

“I hate it when physically in-shape people look down upon those who aren’t. I hate to tell you this, but you’re not superior, especially in regards to the things that matter most: kindness and appreciation for others wherever they are in life is a learned art and maybe you should get off the treadmill long enough to take some lessons. I don’t experience as much prejudice in this department as I used to, but it sure makes my blood boil whenever I encounter it.”

The funniest thing about my above rant is that I got all kinds of people, my friends mind you, apologizing to me for the way that I had been treated. Why did they apologize? Because they think I am fat and that I have reason to be apologized to. Kind of ironic, huh? I never mentioned that I had been treated badly, did I? In fact, I hadn’t had any teasing at all, I only posted the comment in defense of others and in opposition to the people out there looking down on this lady. I’ve actually been feeling pretty good about the way I am looking until yesterday. HA.

Well as you, who read my blog, know I’m on a journey of self-discovery. I’ve learned to love myself and I am still learning to take care of myself. I all too well know the life of this anchor. I know what it is like to be raising 3 young daughters (and she has a full-time job to boot) and to feel the stress and eat too much and exercise too little. I also know what it’s like to get off my butt and count calories. I also know what it’s like to have a propensity to being larger as a child and as an adult.

I also know what it’s like to lose a nephew and to know that in his last week on this earth he was called fat by some mean little girls and that the word F A T may have been racing through his mind in his last breathe. It breaks my heart. Absolutely makes me shed tears. Right now in fact.

Yes, people are fat, but trust me, they know it. You pointing it out to them, or looking down on them, or even apologizing for others’ fat name callers to someone who has recently lost 35 pounds doesn’t really help the situation and it doesn’t really motivate people to be better.

Do you know what motivates people to be better? Loving them wherever they are. Loving them right where they are. Even if it’s at 700 pounds. Anyone who has watched Richard Simmons should know this fact.

Do you know why loving them helps? Because the reason they are fat is that they don’t love themselves enough. Period. Or maybe they have a health condition? Or maybe they are just a husky kid that could eventually be a college football star if they live long enough to pursue that goal? The point being: You don’t know what they are capable of, if all you see is F A T. And you will also never know the beauty of loving people in their weakness if you can’t see past it. You don’t even know what scars are under the fat.

If you can love F A T people then maybe they can learn to love themselves. And if you can love them F A T, maybe they will love you in your weakness.

See how that works? Well, yeah, you do kind of have to admit your own weakness first. Maybe you could start with judging, lack of charity, or complete and total PRIDE?

How to run.

I’ve had several friends ask me to clue them in on the “how” of my transformation from couch potato to runner. This post is for them and anyone else who can use it.

How to run.

1. Put on a good bra. (This may be important for some of you men out there too.)
2. Put on appropriate attire.
(I prefer to be as covered as possible while still being comfortable and appreciate that in other runners, but if you are the kind of person who needs to flaunt it for some type of external motivation, more power to you, but you probably need therapy. How about you therapy folks just do what I did, start running in November in Utah, then we can all be happy.)
3. Wear good socks.
4. Lace up your shoes.
5. Go outside.
6. Walk for a little while. (Like a couple blocks or a couple of weeks or a couple of months.)
7. Realize your body can do more than walk.
8. Start walking faster.
9. Get sick of the burn in your butt and thighs from speed walking, and pick up the pace just a bit more.
10. Appreciate the fact that you are now jogging.
11. Jog until you get tired, which in the beginning may be a block or a half-block or a half of a half-block.
12. Slow to a walk, and take some time to rest your heart. Then make yourself jog some more.Do this until your allotted exercise time is up. Make sure it is at least for a half an hour, but an hour makes it more fun. Quit for the day. Walk back home. (If you are smart you would have turned back toward home halfway into your allotted time)
13. Memorize the spots where you started to jog and the spots that you just had to stop.
14. Two days later, walk to the same spot in #11, and when you get there, see if you can jog a little farther this time. (Yes, when you are a runner, you get a day in between runs to rest!)
15. Repeat #8-14, for as long as it takes.
16. Sign up for a 5k.
17. One day decide that you aren’t going to stop jogging until you hit the 3.2 mile mark.
18. Congratulate yourself because you are now more than a jogger. You are a real runner.
19. Repeat #16-18, as you will want need a faster time and there’s no better motivator than a race.
20. Somewhere along the way, you will find that 3.2 is just not long enough, and you will keep running past the 3.2 mark, you will change your running routes to work in hills, you will have used up 3 pairs of shoes, you will run at different times of the day, you will be working your running into your schedule like it’s your 5th child, you will love every second of solace, you will enjoy every time you feel winded and just have to spit or get a drink, you will love the hills, you will love the down-hills, you will watch your shadow day after day, you will be cranky if you haven’t had a run in over 2 days, you will run with friends (maybe only at races), you will stay after the races just to hang out with other runners even though you never win a prize, you will find yourself to be one of those obnoxious ladies at the baby shower who is suddenly surrounded by other runners comparing speed work techniques and running times and injury management, you will exceed your race goal and wonder if you are ready for the half yet, you will wonder why in the world you didn’t start sooner, and most of all you will be hooked for life.

To this I solemnly swear.
Amen.

Just do it.
Running is cheap and takes little coordination.
All that is required is mind over matter.
I wouldn’t call it easy, but if it was easy then it wouldn’t be so awesome.
It does get easier the more you do it.
I’m not going to lie, it also gets harder, but that is the miracle of it, the harder it becomes, the better equipped you are to handle it, which means you are STRONGER!

Watching My Shadow

When the sun is just right and I happen to be running in the right direction, I get some really good self reflection time. You see, when I run, I am often looking at the ground. I do this because I am still getting in optimum shape and I have a running form that is too tired and downtrodden. I also do this because I am watching for safety hazards like raodkill, left-behind tires, or just the occasional pothole or change in ground level. (The trauma of staring a deer smack in the face while quickly jumping over her is one that will not be ever forgotten. That day that my typical “downward watch” was off and my “watch out for cars that are trying to run you over” position was on left my pulse racing.) I also look down because every time I see a coin I feel lucky, and once while running I found a mangled wedding band that I turned in for money to buy new running shoes. I don’t always look down as there is so much to take in in all directions but looking at the ground is a necessary part of running.

O.k. I’ve got the looking down part covered. Didn’t want to leave you with any questions.Well, when I am looking down and the sun and my direction are optimal I get the best runners’ treat of all: my shadow. For the past 10 months, I’ve been watching my shadow. I watch it run. It has shrunk by 40 pounds, which in shadow world isn’t much, but to me is ginormous. I watch my knees lifting and dropping and my arms swing front and back. I watch the hairs of my head fly in the wind and the sleeves of my shirt flap.I watch the shapes in all their glory. Often I grieve over the backside, but more often I revel in all my glory. I shake my head in disbelief and then quickly remind my shadow with a nod that I am a runner. Backside and all.

It does something to you, to tell yourself that you are a runner.When you watch your shadow month after month and mile after mile, it changes you. It changes your very nature. When I wasn’t a runner I was much less likely to look for rigorous outdoor activities, now, I seek them out. “C’mon guys, let’s go on a hike!, how ’bout a bikeride?, we could walk down to the library just for fun, it’s just a mile.” As a runner, I can be more honest with myself. I can be in a place of serenity knowing that I have improved, no matter how much farther I have to go. Most of all, as a runner, I feel strong. I feel worthy. I feel reflective. I feel loved by the person who matters most: me. I feel like I can handle any obstacle, no matter how senseless, even if it’s an unexpected dead deer. “What? A dead deer! Oh, no problem, I’ll just hop right over”, all in a second’s thought process. It’s like I’m a female Bourne and it feels omnipotent.

I am sure there are other ways to feel this good, but running is my way. Running and writing. Watching my monitor with my fingers flying over the keyboard underneath is a similar sensation. I think I like my running shadow the most, it speaks to me, and tells me I am a living miracle for the sole purpose that I have a body and I use it to move. And when I am moving, I love myself. When I am moving, I strengthen my body, and utilize my mind at its fullest to conquer all life’s challenges, even if as simple as how am I going to afford my next pair of shoes. Once in a blue moon it all comes together, my physical, mental, and spiritual world collide and God puts a banged up wedding band in my path and my shadow says, “Awesome!”

Coming soon – how I started running – just for Dorry.

40 pounds

Our landlord came over today.

We’ve never met in person before.

The only place she has ever seen me

is on my blog.

Coincidentally, my blog is how she

decided to rent to us last April.

She walked in the house

and said,

“Wow, you look so different than I expected.

You look so different than your blog.”

I said,

“I’ve lost forty pounds since that blog photo.”

Then she said she could really tell

and that I should update my photo.

I decided to do a little experiment and take a photo to compare.

I do believe there is a difference.

A toddler size difference.

The side by side was validation

for all that running

and calorie counting.

I so wish I could have a baby without gaining

that forty pounds back.

But, I am grateful for the knowledge

that my parents raised me to have.

Family is what matters most.

And guess what?

I have a family that loves me

no matter what size I am.

And I have four wonderful children

who are extremely grateful to me

for not placing my appearance

at such a high priority that

they were completely erased

from this world.

I know of many women

who determine their self-worth

by size.

I want you all to know

that I was just as important

to my God, my husband, and my children

in that before picture.

And I will keep that picture on my blog,

even though I can now change it out for a skinnier version

because I love me

and I love that those old pounds represent

the time I spent with my children

and the months I gave to growing them inside of me

instead of obsessing at the gym

to please people in a world that

have screwed up priorities.

Yes, I feel a million times better

now that I exercise regularly

and eat healthier.

And yes there are women

out there who look great

and can have babies and go back to

pre-baby size the day after birth.

Yes, there are women who

are healthy and not unhealthily obsessed with their weight.

Yes, yes, yes.

But me, I am probably going to gain my

forty pounds back

and I will probably gain more back after

the next baby is born

because having a newborn is stressful to me

and I get so tired

and choose to take care of my kids

over myself.

I may do better this time

as I have made great progress in

the taking care of me category.

Or I may not.

But in the end,

I will have made the choice that matters most.

And that makes me happy

with the before and after pictures.

I look to you

I love this song. It’s an old Whitney Houston number
and was recently redone on Glee.
After hearing it on my i-pod yesterday,
I’ve been searching it out on youtube.
I want to send it to my brother
who recently lost his son Braxton.
(I can’t type that last sentence
without my eyes welling up in tears)

I’ve been through some hard things in my life.
I’ve been diagnosed with a mental illness,
I’ve lived through serious poverty,
I’ve come within a hair from losing my marriage,
I’ve experienced cruel prejudices,
I’ve struggled with my weight,
and I’ve lost people I’ve loved.

But right now nothing hurts more than Braxton.
Even though I didn’t spend as much time
with him as I would have preferred
(due to living in poverty half a world away
in Tennessee for a decade)
I loved that kid.
He was a complex mixture of the best of his mom and dad.
He was so compassionate (mom) and determined (dad).
He was so funny (dad) yet smart (mom).
Ha ha. O.k. he could have gotten both of those from both of his parents.
He had an infectious smile (mom and dad).
He was the life of the party (his aunt ali) 🙂
He was and is such a good kid.
The kind of kid that anyone would be proud to call their own.

We all love and miss him so,
and are left with such a huge hole in our hearts,
as we try to make sense of his passing.

I worry for my brother and his family every day,
and I simultaneously try to soothe my own pain.
Every day I send my brother a little message on facebook
to uplift, inspire, strengthen, and happy-make.
It’s been amazing to me how much that little act has been the best balm for me.
Sometimes I end up searching online for hours for just the right thing,
but for those hours I am finding little gems to my own soul.

Like this song.
Wow.
What a great reminder to where we need to look.
In all our troubles.
I can honestly say that God is the only way I’ve survived.
And I proudly say that I have done more than survive.
I have flourished under his tutelage.

I love this singer’s journey to her own health.
It really does boil down to the fact
“I can do all things through God whom strengtheneth me.”
I know that if my brother and his family know anything,
it is to look to God for their strength.
They do such an amazing job at it.
I’m so grateful they have their God.
And I am so grateful that they are my constant reminder
to look to Him too.

Dear people

I know I am a blog slacker.

I’ve been blogging for food.

Literally.

I started working as a social media guru

for a local business.

Not sure if they want me to tell the world

over the internet

that I am their go-to gal,

but they give me free freezer meals.

It’s awesome.

Steak, shrimp, gourmet stuff

in exchange for my internet savvy.

Totally awesome.

Anyhow, I am sorry my bloggy friends.

I love you

and

I miss you.

I just dug into my drafts

to try and find something

to give you.

Throw you a bone,

so you won’t completely give up on me.

Here’s a goodie from Sophia.

My kids are serious about their soda.

When they buy it with their own money

they don’t want people backwashing in it.

I love my kids more than ever.

I love my husband more than ever.

They make me laugh,

and I am sad that I am not sharing that on here as much.

Because I will forget it

if I don’t write it.

I won’t forget that I love them

but I will forget the ways that they make me laugh.

I just want to let you all know that

if you improve in one area of your life

you are bound to revert in others.

I have been doing really good at running.

I’ve lost about 30 pounds since November.

I have been doing really good with working.

(I have two part-time jobs)

I have been doing pretty good in the marriage department.

I have even been a half-way decent mom.

I potty trained Caroline.

I have bought myself some things,

grown out my hair,

and told myself how much I love myself

every day.

And I am even starting to believe me.

I have accomplished some of my new year’s resolutions:

camping extravaganza,

attend temple monthly,

waking up with LG,

staying under budget,

but I have slacked in others:

read 54 books

(I am way behind,

and really hopeful that

I can crank them out this summer by the pool)

I have really been slacking with my spirituality.

My prayers and scripture study have not been where I want them to be.

My service to others outside my family hasn’t been enough.

My joy in church service hasn’t been where I need it.

It’s not that I am not doing these things at all,

it’s just that as I have added in more of other things,

I haven’t given it the same dedication

and I miss it.

One thing I learned in the South is to

GIVE MYSELF GRACE.

So I do.

But one of these days

I will be the whole package.

One of these days,

dear people.

But, really,

with giving myself grace,

I am doing magnificently.

Never been better.

Or happier.

Or healthier.

or pleased with myself.

Glory to God

for strengthening me

in all areas of my life,

just sometimes I have to choose which one.

If you want to read more

about how God strengthens us

go here.

So powerful.

and true.

Race#3

Color Me Rad was so much fun.

I don’t know if I can officially count this as one of my four races this year

as there were so many people, color, and chaos that it was impossible to run with full speed.

They don’t time the race and we had to stop at every color station so I have no idea what my time really was. We did it in about 40 minutes, but there is no way I am counting that.

I had so much fun running with my sister.
She’s a fitness guru and she ran circles around me,

but we had so much fun.

I was also glad to be joined by LG’s cousin Grant and his wife Catherine.

We had a great time.

Beware to future race runners.

They should really rename the race to

Become an Avatar Race.