On Lenten promises and activity stickers

Yesterday was Ash Wednesday, the beginning of Lent, the pre-Easter season. It is tradition for Christians who observe Lent to choose a Lenten sacrifice, most often manifested as giving up chocolate, soda, sugar, coffee, etc.

When I was going to Catholic grade school, they encouraged us to be more proactive about our Lenten sacrifices, instead calling them "Lenten promises." That's been my MO in recent years - choosing to be more patient with friends, more hard-working, etc. This year, however, I waited until the last possible minute to choose a Lenten sacrifice - yet another side-effect of my crisis in faith over the last six or seven months. Yesterday, I tentatively decided to give up diet coke, one of my happy treats.

If you read this blog regularly, you know that I'm attempting to embark on a healthier lifestyle - 8.6 lbs lost in five weeks, by the way! My better half has lost 33 pounds since November by working out and following a somewhat strict diet plan. I promised Jordan I would go work out with him last night - something I've been planning to do for weeks. I got out of going on Tuesday because I had killer stomach pains, likely a lingering symptom from over-indulging on Saturday evening. As I waffled and pouted over going to work out, I was reminded of feelings I've had earlier in this process. Rather than pouting and feeling sorry for myself, I needed to really examine the reasons for continuing this process and to make a concrete commitment.

I decided to return to the premise of Lenten promises rather than trivial Lenten sacrifices. Motivated by the biblical principle of the body as a temple (a philosophy that fits well for all belief systems), I decided to love my body and to do something nice for it - I've made a commitment to work out on a regular basis. I'm not sure what form this will take - right now, my goal is working out enough to legitimately earn the activity bonus stickers at my Weight Watchers meetings. I made it through my first round with Weight Watchers (reference post linked above) without setting foot in a gym once. I can't help but feel like, if I had cultivated the habit of working out, I would have had a better time sustaining my weight loss. Since starting WW this time, I've made small, more-active changes in my schedule, such as only taking the stairs at work in the library, walking across campus instead of driving, and parking further away. I feel like these, while healthy habits, are cop-out activities. I've never raised my hand in a WW meeting this time for an activity sticker. If these middle-aged women in my meetings can join Zumba classes, hike around their neighborhood, or schedule sessions with a personal trainer, why can't I take advantage of my own gym-aficionado fiance (who is totally addicted to working out at this point)?

We started on the elliptical. I asked Jordan how I should program it - after a short consultation, we decided on 22 minutes, level three, calorie burner setting. I plugged in headphones borrowed from him, scoured the on-machine television guide for a workout-appropriate television show, and finally decided on Throwdown (Boston Cream Pie edition) with Bobby Flay. About six minutes in, I felt like I was in trouble - my heart rate was at 170 (a quick glance at Jordan's machine showed his HR in the 115-range), my chest felt tight, and I was terrified of a heart attack or stroke. I teared up some, and glanced at Jordan, who looked alarmed. I pulled off my headphones. "Is my heart rate normal? What's up with this?" He glanced down at my machine, looked at me with a bit of surprise, and said "well, maybe a bit..." I teared up some more and said "well, maybe I'll just go to fifteen minutes instead of twenty-two."

I decreased my pace - a couple of times, the machine told me to speed up - and powered through. My heart rate went into the 150s and I felt more in charge of the elliptical. Ten or fifteen minutes later, I had finished the complete 22 minute session. Jordan and I hightailed it to the target heart rate range posters across the gym - my HR was, as I suspected, in the high range of the target zone (hello, I'm significantly overweight and haven't been on the elliptical in about four years). I asked Jordan about his 115-heart rate. His reply? "Oh yeah, I don't know what's up with that. I think that machine's broken - my HR is usually in the 150s." I've had a lot of health-motivated freak-outs recently - last semester, I convinced myself I was having a heart attack every night and made the doctors at MTSU give me an EKG and run a full health panel. I'm filing this experience away as more of the same.

We continued with weights - I specifically wanted to focus on training my arms. I pulled Jordan away from his own workouts to show me the ropes - we couldn't decide what would work my arms better, so I did some preacher curls on a Nautilus (part of a circuit system), some free weights, and a rowing machine. At the last minute, I added some sit-ups (they are much easier to do on one of those sit-up bench thingies) and waited for Jordan to finish his weight-lifting regime. Seasoned work out vets, if you have any insight on best routine elements for me, let me know in the comments or through a private message via facebook!

I felt energized and accomplished afterward. While my body felt physically exhausted, my mind was alert. I went home and, craving veggies and protein, ate some low-fat cottage cheese on a bed of lettuce. I also had a small piece of pizza left over from the Sloans' dinner, but that's not really germane to this story.....

After the workout last night, I have no problem raising my hand for an activity sticker at meeting this week. I earned that little footprint.

Ch-ch-ch-changes

Until now, this blog has been primarily personal, with the exception of a post or two, like this one. I've been toying with the idea of incorporating more of my professional life into this blog, in order to make it a better networking tool. Last week I ordered business cards with the website address printed on them, so there was no going back at that point.

You may notice the spiffy new tabs at the top of this page - Home, which takes you to the blog; About Me, which takes you to a short bio similar to the ones I send to conferences and other professional development activities; and Curriculum Vitae, which houses my extended resume, without references. I will likely add more of these tabs in the coming weeks to reflect my research interests and graduate-level work so far.

This seems like a timely endeavor, considering that I will soon be finished with classwork and embarking upon those two dreaded tasks of graduating MA students: the job search and the thesis. I also hope to continue writing about my wedding and my life on this blog as well. I envision, somewhere down the line, utilizing this as a forum to discuss my growing family and my experiences as a wife and mother, but all in due time. :)

Fountain of Sadness

Meeting with the reception caterer tomorrow to discuss the menu. I went to a Bridal Show this past weekend and, overcome with the beautiful possibility of a nacho fountain (yes, dear friends, such a thing does exist), I resolved to discuss at this meeting my idea to have a second caterer (of nacho & chocolate fountain fame) to offer up her foods alongside our original caterer's spread. Happy and excited, I came home and shared the news with my business manager - I mean, fiance - who agreed to email the fountain caterer for price quotes.

After looking at her website, Jordan decided that, in addition to the nacho and chocolate fountains I had picked out, he also wanted to do a coffee bar to go alongside our cake and potential chocolate fountain. Jordan has several passions in life - peppers, cooking, guns, spanish, me, theology, and coffee. The fountain caterer responded quickly to our query - the total for these three items would be over $3,000. I couldn't believe it! That's more than either of the main caterers quoted us for an entire spread of heavy hors d'oeuvres.

My business manager also shot down my request for a $1300 videographer I had fallen in love with at the show. I'm convinced that bridal shows exist to convince the bride to spend more money, or perhaps to have her heart broken. What do you think? Ever wanted something frivolous very badly, only to have the budget and/ or reality come up and hit you hard in the face? I mean, really, a nacho fountain? Not simply unnecessary  - also ridiculously lavish and potentially health-hazardous. :)