I've been tagged

My initial urge to complain about it is quickly overtaken by the feeling that this is fun. So here it is, my blog tag randomness.

I've been tagged by Roland, whose blog must now be moved to the "people who chain letter" section in my sidebar. No hurry though, he can stay in the Friendship section for a few more days.

The Rules of this game go like this:

• Link back to the person who tagged you
• Share 7 random or weird facts about yourself
• Tag 7 people at the end of your post, and include links to their blogs
• Let each person know they've been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog

1. I started drinking coffee when I was 13. There are some studies that show that coffee consumption may stunt growth, but since I grew to a notable 5 ft 3' I think we can cross that out as BS. My first coffee was boiled on the stove, and I drank espresso with a passion until I moved out on my own. After finding that filter coffee is something you can have lots and lots of, I quickly switched. There are some very expensive coffees that I find disturbingly nasty. My favorite blend is Jacobs Monarch, very simple and delicious, and I tend to like Blue Mountain Coffee, more for the origins than for the taste.

2. I was blond for the past 9 years. Going back to brunette was extremely depressing and stressful. For one, none of my outfits looked the same anymore and then hailing a cab became way harder. On a different note, I've had more people listening when I talk.

3. I own a pink computer. It was love at first sight at Best Buy. While most girls cringe at the girliness of it, many end up staring at it with the same eyes they stare at Josh Holloway, knowing they want him, but are too shy to confess. My next computer will be light brown. With flowers.

4. Growing up, I wanted to be an artist or a writer. I painted. Then I wrote. Then I became neither. Now that I want to be a full time writer, all my family members have taken on a : "she's so cute, oh...." attitude, maybe as a flashback to how they viewed me about a quarter century ago with my cute little notebooks scribbled up and down with illegible gibberish.


5. I suffer very well and very deeply. Being broken and put together on a daily basis is sort of an emotional hobby of mine, one that I have very well overcompensated with love for small things and true amazement at the craziness and beauty that life is.

6. I have order disorder. I like things to look nice, clean and organized. My closet is the only exception to this rule because of number of vertical challenges that usually end with a pile of t-shirts devastatingly scattered on the floor after the bottom one had been swiftly removed, as if from under of orderly deck of cards, which are no more. I have friends that swear I am as bad as Monica on Friends. "I take pride in that", I answer back.

7. The only dog that's ever bitten me was my very own Pinchi, a white and brown cocker spaniel who lived to the old age of 17 and passed along two years ago. He has attacked and bitten me many times, and my most memorable scars are on my feet and forearms. The places he guarded with ferocious ambition were his bowl of dog food and a particular armchair we were both very fond of. My blood spilled over that same armchair many times. Those are some fond memories.

Oh, now I have to tag 5 more people....oh man....

Emil Genov - also known as Emo Aerobikata....do it buddy

Petya and Kyle - a couple of unceasing inspiration, I can't wait to see 7 facts about you guys

Vanichka (Vissi) - a person who made chocolate the new diet food

Mr. Fass - you biomechanical genius, is there something we don't know about you?

Dianka - my favorite photographer in the whole world

100% natural

Double muscle, mmm...some bodybuilders would so take you up on that...

I think it's just scary how "natural" selection produces animals that weigh over a ton...

I have a few questions now...

Do you think they "naturally" select the guys who take care of the cows? It takes a certain kind of attitude to feel good about "shaving the animal to expose the muscle"

Does such "natural" selection happen in the human world? Doubt it.

Where does natural end, is it at the point where they mention artificial insemination or is it where we add the preservatives after we've got a hold of the "lean cuts" ?

Oh, and if the Belgian Blue was grass fed, how many acres of land would it take to grow one in 100 years?

My Math Sucks

and other random Jan 2 thoughts, some of which related to fitness and nutrition...


My math sucks, and it has sucked, my whole life. I got through high school all right, with a GPA of 6.0 (of a max of 6.0) because I got my math done by the guys, in exchange for A+ worthy argumentative essays in English as a second language. Calculators have always been there for me and before that we had these:


So here I am, googling "lbs to kg" trying to free my head of the three digit monster that was my weight on the scale...this morning, that is the morning of Jan 2, 2009, 6 months after I stopped working out.

I will spare myself (and you) the detailed story of WHY I stopped working out, since it's heavy on drama and even heavier on Kleenex, and I will just say, in the words of my shrink, that "that's life" and "sometimes things happen in the growing up process that may leave us quite surprised at who we really are" and "that to build something new you need to destroy the old to make space for it". One ended marriage, one ended business, one ended home, and one ended year later, I am ready to move on from "having fat is interesting, I've never had that before", to "okay life is not kicking my ass anymore, so it's about time to step on the scale..."

The scale said 134.6. If that was metric, I would be dead, or a whale...but it's not...so I'll likely live through this, at least until I find out what it is in metric. Then I might have an aneurism, because...

I know that's a lot, I know women that weight that and they pay me well to help them lose fat, so it must be a lot....I know that's a lot, because my very baggy linen pants are not so baggy anymore. I know it's a lot because I was 126 in spring and I was 120 in Cayman, and I was 118 when I was small and happy with my legs... I know it's a lot, because I only see the outline of my abs if the light's right and I know it's a lot because I really really haven't been looking or caring. I've been busy surviving. When life looks you in the face while its ugly twin sister is kicking your butt, you don't really care about fat. When you don't know if you slept or ate or if it's Monday or Friday, you really don't remember what calipers were either...

But I'm not surviving anymore, so it was time to look and find out. It's not like I freaked out until I found that google converter and finally got the number down to 61. something...and went...****, that's a lot for a small chickie.

Or is it?

My body's been very kind to have packed the fat well and pretty. I went through a huge hormonal crash where my pituitary took a long vacation and was not signalling my body to do anything but : "ground". So it grounded me. The months of July, August and September were months of imminent extinction for a few million hazelnuts and a few hundred balls of mozzarella. I didn't eat bad foods, I just ate more good foods than my bed ridden dragging remains of a body could deal with. And my mind was starving for answers, so they came ready, in neat little bags of nuts, packets of cheese and what I believe is the biggest jar of all natural peanut butter that ever inhabited the otherwise clean shelves of my tiny kitchen. I believe I put on over 10 lbs in 2 weeks in the form of very hard and not at all flabby fat. Most of my friends never noticed. I did, but I just rolled with it (no pun intended).

So is 61.something kilograms a lot...I don't know. Compared to when? Compared to who?

I did start working out a few weeks ago and to my amazement I can still do chin ups and pull ups. They come in singles, but they come. I can still deadlift 150 lbs, well below my 220 potential, but who cares...and I can still hold a plank...well. sort of.

But I've been so cured of the " I must" mantality now...I am so not willing to take the pressure or losing 1 lb a week for a contest, for my work, for a client, because I need to take it slow, enjoy it and make it work for me and my happiness.

So why am I freaking out, now in metric? Because I know how much work it's going to take. I know how much time it's going to take...to do this...

S

L

O

W

I am totally willing to give myself time. Take it slow. Freak out slow.

So I need to lose anywhere from 10 to 15 lbs. 10 sounds very good right now. 1 lb a week is 3 months. 0.5 lb a week is 6 months. I like this. I am not freaking out anymore. I need to google 0.5 lbs to kg to calm down even more. My math sucks, remember?

I am calm and happy. I have faith. I have no plan, since my body knows what to do. My appetite is very normal, getting me around 1300-1500 cals on most days. I fast some days, when I'm not hungry, so that works great. I am not doing anything with a goal in mind this time, I find this to be a great chance to look at things like we do at natural and spontaneous language acquisition, one word, one phrase at a time, until the paper doesn't look like random gibberish anymore, but foreign words start to clump into meaningful phrases, titles make you smile and you start buying the local paper in that once foreign language you now speak, without cramming grammar for days on end, very much like we cram workouts or torture ourselves with diet, just to prove that we're worthy of calling ourselves thin, pretty, strong, sexy...it's all an ego trip, like learning Spanish in 3 months. Can I do it...sure...will I...hell no :)

So I wrap this up with the same lack of urgency to change my body that I feel towards learning the language of Cervantes, and taken by the same craziness that Don Quixote might have experienced not knowing what's ahead of him, but knowing he's going there, all ramifications aside.