Dream Interpretation

(Rated G for Genuine due to brutally honest transparency and a bad example)

I remember my dreams in great detail. I’m usually pretty good at figuring out how my brain took the events and the emotions of the day, put them into my Ronco Brain-o-matic, sliced, diced, and spit them back out in a crazy mixed up way.  Last night I dreamt I went through airport security holding a can of beans to travel on a surfboard-like transportation system. The trip included going through a “turn pike” which was a giant, downward-spiraled waterpark slide. (How sad is it that I even dream in puns? Get it TURN pike.) Yep – no psychoanalyst needed here. I am really excited about our upcoming trip, know it is going to be a blast, but am determined to eat appropriately. I have been thinking about trying a boogie board. Told ya – simple me – simple dreams – simple interpretations.

In the past, I’ve had a not-so-fun reoccurring dream. I could barely walk. It was like my feet were in concrete. I had to hold on to trees and other objects just to stand. In one dream, an elderly woman using a walker passed me. In another dream, it was pouring rain. I saw shelter and tried to move, but I didn’t have the strength to take a step. That dream was so real that when I woke up I was surprised I wasn’t soaked. It sure didn’t take a psychologist to figure out what my brain was trying to get through my thick head. I was sick. (That is still really hard to type.)

In the daylight, I did what I always do when faced with a challenge. I adapted, gave my best, and pushed through. My stubborn sense of responsibility pushed me in spite of my pain and fatigue until I fell into bed exhausted each night. Only some family and a few close friends even know I was struggling. (It's hard to share what you don't want to admit to yourself.) I avoided stairs, the shortest of walks, and would sit as still as I could to save my energy. Sometimes I wouldn’t even reach for a glass to take a drink of water because it took too much effort. The truth was I had growing tumors. (A common problem for women with PCOS.) As they grew and my activity level decreased, I grew in body mass.  I knew something was really wrong, but I am bad about putting others first even to my own harm. I was determined to hold on until January (2012) before I went to a doctor because of the financial burden that I knew the medical bill would be. (Not smart!) In my heart, I knew my nightmares were my reality, but I was too weak and stubborn to do anything but hold on to the tree, stand in the rain, and survive.

Last March, the doctor removed tumors, early-stage cancer cells, and the body part that caused my physical fatigue, but the Chairman’s Challenge at work changed what a surgeon’s knife couldn’t - my dreams. The Challenge was the tool God used to break through the paralyzing mental fear. This may not seem like a big deal to you, but a few nights ago I dreamed I was running. What a sense of freedom! It was a confirmation that my new attitude towards fitness and health goes deep. I am thankful to know that even my subconscious has had a change of heart. I am confident my running dream was a glimpse into my future. Waiting for the night I dream I fly.

Gym Grandma

 One of the fringe benefits of going to the gym is the inspiring people I meet. It is the “Silver Sneakers,” Senior Citizens, who inspire me the most. They are retired and yet they choose to get up early and start their day with exercise. First of all, I am amazed that they are at the gym at 5:30 am. (When I retire, I plan on killing the proverbial rooster, enjoying a meal of grilled chicken, and sleeping in later!)

The gym has a short indoor track. There is a group of “Three Amigos” who meet every morning to walk and talk. Another consistent member is a short, petite lady, who wears 5K race t-shirts and faithfully works out on the Nautilus circuit. I would guess that she is in her late 60’s. Wednesday, I worked out next to her, and she lowered the seat on the equipment so her legs could touch the floor. The posse of three grandpas snuck in while she set the weights, readjusted the seat higher, winked at me, and slowly slunk away. They of course had a good laugh when she tried to sit down. (Gentlemen friends, I recommend that you write that down in case later in life you have the need to flirt with the pretty grandma at the gym!) She and I had a nice girl talk about how little boys mature from pigtail pulling to seat adjusting. Later, she talked to one of the guys as he took his blood pressure. (See – the flirting worked!) She said that she had her health evaluation the day before, and they set her health age at 76. He exclaimed that this have to be wrong because she was so strong and fit. She laughed and said she was thrilled considering she is 92. I was shocked! I am pretty sure that the pretty grandma would be robbing the cradle if she ended up with the amigo. She is my new hero.

In the pool last night, the twenty-something instructor announced it was my birthday and told everyone I was turning 21. Truth be told, I wouldn’t trade one minute of 52 to start over. I’ve made plenty of mistakes along the way, but they are part of who I am. Some of those mistakes manifested themselves into fat, but it’s rewarding to see it melt away and be replaced with the muscle of good health choices. Gym Grandma has 40 more years of life experience than I do, and she is the perfect visual aid for what morning gym trips will bring. So on my birthday, I raise my glass of water high and toast the passing of another year in the rearview mirror and commit to working hard to make my rear view a much nicer one to look at for the 55 year-old-man I love.

Winning Numbers

I'm 25 today!

Now before all of you think I’ve lost the few marbles I still have in the game or have turned into a liar, let me explain. Twenty-five is not my age. Today the scale says there is 25 fewer pounds than the first day of the AT&T Chairman’s Challenge. Hitting this goal means I am at 33% of my ultimate goal and that makes me want to crunch more numbers.

42: The amount of weight I am down from my very heaviest before the tumors were removed. (Losing the tumors counts as weight loss, but I don’t recommend having body parts removed just to lower the numbers on the scale!)

200: The amount of weight I leg pressed this morning.

130: The number of day since the Chairman’s Challenge was announced, and I faced my fears.

129: The number of days since the Chairman’s Challenge that I have avoided eating cheesecake. (That piece of my friend Carrie’s cheesecake with homemade hot cinammon apples on top was amazing and worth every calorie!)

17: The number of Happy Gave Birth Moments I will have celebrated as of 11:38 tonight. It is so hard to believe it has been 17 years since my “Joymaker” made my life and this world a better place. (Happy Birthday Baby!)

3: How many day I have until my life’s odometer changes to (25x2)+2.

2013: The year that I become chronologically older but physically younger.

I don’t know about you, but I think those are some pretty blessed numbers. In spite of the fact I have never bought a lottery ticket, somehow that would make sense, but just thinking about them reminds me that I’m already a winner. Let me encourage you to take a minute and celebrate your winning numbers today…and please share!

Ballerina Brainwashed

I have a serious question I would like for you to ponder for a moment. Do you think it is odd how many little girls dream of being a ballerina? I’ve considered several possible reasons for this anomaly. Perhaps it’s the beautiful tutu, but if this is the reason, why aren’t more adults who have the constitutional right and freedom to wear whatever they want demanding racks of them at Macy’s? (I can just image an alternate universe where a clerk routinely gets asked where to find the plus-sized tutus.)

Let’s consider the possibility that it is the great employment opportunities. I couldn’t find the specific numbers for ballerinas on the Bureau for Labor Statistics Web site, but it warns there is “intense competition for jobs” because there are way more wanna-be dancers than get-to-bees. I think we can count out career possibilities.

After a few productive minutes of musing, I know I have found the answer! (Be on the look out for this breaking story on 60 Minutes! The rock-n-roll backwards masking of the 70’s and 80’s has got nothing on the Backward Ballerina Brainwashing scandal.) You read it here first. The music that plays in the ballerina jewelry boxes has backward masking and plants nefarious subliminal messages into the brains of parents and the little children who own them. “Yooouuuu waaannnttttt toooooooooooo taaaake ballleeeettttt. Yoooooouuuuu aaaaare a baaaaalllllleeeerrrrrriiiiinnnna.” I have surmised that this is the only reason why my parents gave into my begging when I was seven, and they spent hard-earned cash they didn’t have on lessons at the Centralia, IL community center.  I danced in one recital to the Sleeping Beauty Waltz wearing a bright red and white tutu with white feathers sticking straight up out of my head. My parents will never admit it, but we left that town and never looked back shortly after I danced. I think I know why. Let’s just say that they sent Pat a picture of me in that tutu right after we got engaged. I guess they thought if he could handle that glimpse into my past he could handle anything.

I flirted with dance a few more times in my teenage years. I’m not too proud to admit that I did my share of the Bump, the Locomotive, the Hustle, and, yes, the polka and square dancing. Those days were long gone until three days ago. I went right back to brainwashed as I “danced” with the cartooned teenagers on the Wii Just Dance 4. They tell me I am “cute” and I’ve even earned four stars on one of the songs. (Who cares Joshua earned five stars the first time he tried! It’s on baby! I will eventually beat your score!) I know that I would have greater success executing an amazing Bunny Hop than Hip Hop, but I’m having fun trying. Last night during Aquasize warm up I secretly tried a few of my new Flo Rida hip hop moves in the pools. Yep – brainwashed.

The Gift

I had a very unexpected and unbelievable surprise this past week.  Two friends, who I am sure would prefer to remain anonymous, gave me an Amazon gift card and made me promise to spend it only on myself.  It wasn’t for Christmas, or my birthday.  It was just because.  I have to tell you I was speechless.   The value of the gift went far beyond the generous amount and the kind note that came with it.  The unexpected benefit was that it made me sit down and think about what I wanted.  Do you know what I discovered?  We always have a wishlist of tools for my husband.  (Tim the Toolman has got nothing on my honey only Pat skilfully uses the tools!)  There are several items I would like to get for my boys.  (Anyone out there have a kid that doesn’t come with a foot-long invisible shopping list?) When it came down to it, I honestly couldn’t think of one thing that I wanted other than a magical home that always stays clean, but I couldn’t find that on Amazon.  Yes - I am blessed and contented.

I started to pay attention during my daily routine to see if there was anything that would be nice to have.  I realized I needed a water-proof bag to bring my wet things home from the pool when the plastic grocery bag I was using got a hole and the floor board of my car turned into a swimming pool for ants.  When I was shopping the next day, I noticed some kids checking out a dance game on the Wii.  I had a Time Warp moment and flashed back to when I danced to the oldies every evening.  (I will never be able to listen to Big Girl’s Don’t Cry without hearing Richard’s voice!)  You guessed it.  My new Just Dance 4 came today.  I am going to melt the fat away with my new hot Moves like Jagger.  (Don’t worry – that isn’t seismic activity you’re feeling; It’s me dancing.)

I love my new bag and game, but what my friends’ loving gift gave me was the realization that what I really want for myself is to continue with this journey to increase my health and fitness.  Thank you my friends!  Your gift was priceless.

Balancing Act

When I was a young kid, we had a fun game called Tip-it.  (See picture below) Yes.  I played the first edition which was copyrighted in 1965 so you do the math!  You had to remove disks that had different point values off of the free-moving base while making sure an Acrobat didn’t fall off of his perch.  The first person to lift disks worth a total of 100 points from the spinning and bouncing base without making the man crash won the game. The entire time that poor little guy was standing on his head just waiting for the inevitable fall.  The games by-line was “the wackiest balancing game ever” and I believed it. Oh, the innocence of youth!

At this moment, I am feeling like the Tip-it man.  I am standing on my head with very wide eyes.  My balancing perch swayed quite a bit when I first decided to earn life points for going to the gym, Aquasize, and nutritional eating.  I have shared in other posts how afraid I was of falling at that time; however, these choices have become routine and are no longer rocking my balancing perch.  (In fact, I would like to think that all those stomach crunches have increased my core strength and improved my balance!)

It’s time to try to add one more thing to my balancing game.  I have a life goal to earn a master’s degree, and I am half way to that goal.  When I take a class, I get very little sleep, and every free minute is spent reading, in on-line discussions, and writing papers.  I love it, but my perch spins fast and if it wasn’t for my family’s willingness to pitch in and help with home responsibilities, I couldn’t hold on.  This time there will be an even bigger challenge.  How can I possibly get all my school work done and continue with my trips to the gym and pool?  For my other classes, I got up at 5 am to write, and I would work late into the night after I got off work.  Now my early mornings are for the gym and evenings include the pool.  My new health priority means I will not quit my new habits, and my men can’t exercise for me.   In fact, I wouldn’t want them to even if they could.  (Wow – what have I become?) I am carefully studying my schedule and trying to determine how I can balance church, work, my family, the abused children I spend time with, and my health, which are non-negotiable, and still pursue the dream of my masters.  I haven’t figured it out so my Tip-it base isn’t rocking yet, but my head sure is spinning just thinking about it   Praying for wisdom to know how to hold on to life – the wackiest balancing game ever.

Hurdle Jumping

Life has been really crazy the last little bit. I traveled out of town for business, a wedding, to move my son, and to see my family. The gym’s pool closed for renovations, and I fought a nasty cough for two weeks. Because of the travel, I had limited eating choices which prevented me from following my eating plan and exercise was not as frequent.  I have to admit I am thankful for these hurdles. They were perfectly place in this journey.  

I had become a robotic Jillian Michaels exercise maniac and a boring Chef Boyardee, mini-meal maker on remote control. Needing to jump these huddles made me think about my choices and transition my new approach to health into real life. I found ways to exercise outside the gym and made conscientious food choices.  I ate a piece of wedding cake, had a slice of my brother’s birthday cake and a candy cane cookie that mom makes once a year, and I relished a few pieces of chocolate my friends gave me for Christmas.  I don’t regret these food choices. They were done in moderation.  I didn’t lost control.  They were celebrations.

I’ve had many small victories in this race since Thanksgiving that make me thankful.  I have lost 20 pounds and 10 inches, but it is the little celebrations that mean more than the numbers.

• I flew in a plane without needing an extension…Skinny friends - I bet you thought the extension was just a flight attendant’s visual aid to show people how to fasten the seat belt didn’t you?
• My clothes are getting sloppy.  (What are the chances that the baggy clown clothes look will be in style this Spring?) 
• I shopped for a dress for my friend Jillian’s wedding.  I tried on a size smaller than I used to wear.  It was too big, and they didn’t have the next smaller size. 
•  I wore a dress I haven’t worn for eight years to the wedding instead. (I am SO glad I didn’t get rid of that dress, but I have to confess that I needed to wash it first because a layer of dust was vacationing on its shoulders.
• I ordered online the dress I tried on in the store three sizes smaller than where I started hoping it would fit for my friend Erin’s June wedding.  It came today, and (cue choir singing) it fits and I love it!

I am positive there will be more hurdles, but I am prepared to keep jumping and to celebrate the small victories when they come.