One Step at a Time

I’m currently reading a book on sugar sensitivity, called (I’m not so fond of the title):  Potatoes, Not Prozac, by Kathleen DesMaisons, PhD.   No, I am not at all feeling as if I need antidepressants, Mom.  Move on.

 According to this book, sugar sensitivity is an inherited body make-up, similar to the genetic make-up of an alcoholic.

 I know that food affects my mood and my sleep a great deal.  I also know that I am cursed with a sweet tooth.  I think Mark would testify to that, with my University-era passion for ice cream.  Even when I am eating healthy and losing weight, I find myself naturally drawn to sweeter food:  grapes, etc.  And I’ve documented for awhile my battle with Diet Coke, and other products containing Nutrasweet.

This book was written for me.  I’ve made attempts to reduce sugar / detox from sugar / etc. in the past, but I love how DesMaisons lays out a very slow (read:  realistic) plan for change.  I’ve been doing her food journal for awhile, and am now grouping foods into meals only, plus a bedtime snack (which I’ll tell you more in a few paragraphs — hang in.)  The premise of having anything you want to eat, as long as you eat it as part of a meal, is a good one.  It’s takes the “magic” out of sneaking a chocolate here and there, as your blood sugar is much more stable if those types of foods are eaten with others.  Sounds too simple, heh?

 So, I’m eating three meals.  And then I’m having the bedtime snack.  Enter the spud.

I’m not a huge potatoe fan.  We eat them at dinner maybe once a week.  So I was skeptical of all of Desjardin’s claims about my less-than-favorite slow-releasing complex carb:

“If you eat a baked potato (with the skin) as a snack before bed, you will put the biochemistry in motion to get the tryptophan into your brain to make serotonin.” 

Translation: you’ll wake up feeling great, and you’ll sleep better.  And, many of her clients report that they have very vivid dreams after eating a potatoe at bedtime.

Last night was Night #3. 

Holy cow. 

I’m a believer!

I have woken up feeling about 50% more rested, despite having gone to bed at the same time or later than usual.  As well, usually I wake up feeling nauseous, and can only manage breakfast after being up for a couple of hours.  Instead, I’ve gotten up feeling healthily hungry, but not starving.

And the dreams!  Oh my.  In the past, I have been a technicolor kind of dreamer, but once I had kids, my dream life fizzled due to exhaustion.  The dreams I’ve had in the past three nights have been incredible … (no more said there…

So, I want to know if it’s just sugar-sensitive me … Try it for a few nights.  Have a baked potatoe with skin as your bedtime snack and see if you notice any positive changes in your sleep, morning energy, other dreams. 

Get back to me. 

In addition to being a wife and a mostly-at-home mom to three crazy kids, I work for a college teaching a therapeutic rec program, supporting distance students.  (Yes, this is just in case you just tuned in.)

 As well, I just took a contract with that program to develop a(nother) new curriculum.  I should be spending my free (ha!) time writing about assessment procedures, developing assignments and learning activities, and reviewing textbooks.

As well, I wake up in the middle of the night with zany ideas for children’s books.  Yes, I have the notebook beside my bed, and my husband can (thankfully) sleep through any of my giggling fits, and with any amount of light on.

 On top of that, I have a comic buddy with whom I’ve spent the last two years developing a sitcom.  It’s been a rollercoaster ride, to say the least, and now we’ve been asked to develop 10 very tight episodes, in order to have some in-the-know folks choose one for a pilot.  We’ve been to this point before, only to have budgets vanish, plans change, etc.  This time, we’re going in with eyes open.  A little smarter, and probably a little funnier. 

I never truly could never have imagined that I’d be a comedy writer.   I thought I’d write for kids, always.

 When it rains, it pours.  Actually, in my life it’s like this:  when it’s supposed to rain, it snows.  See, when I’m supposed to be writing curriculum, my brain floods with kid’s stories and funny scenes for the sitcom. 

I’m a defiant writer, I think.

 PS:  Another sitcom survey for me …help me out if you can as we’re looking for fresh ideas on this one. What is the quirkiest part of the opposite sex’s body that you’re attracted to, and why?  (ie. I don’t want to hear about eyes or legs)  Thanks!

Great news!

 Troy swam in his regional swim meet today.  The top 8 from each event went on to finals.  Today he swam fly, long free, and backstroke … and he made it to the finals in each event!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 In the afternoon finals, he went on to place 5th in back and fly, and 7th in freestyle. 

He PRed four times during the day.

 All of those accomplishments, all of these ribbons, mean nothing compared to the look on a child’s face when he’s found a passion.  The look in his eyes when he is about to race — the “thumbs up” he gives me from behind the starting block  — the grin on his face when he gets a “I Beat My Time” ribbon — those are the true prizes and the joys of sport.

 An awesome, awesome day!  He has one more race (short free) tomorrow, and then the season is done.

… are actually a good match for me.

 I don’t get angry often.  I like to laugh things off, and keep the peace, generally.  I actually don’t recognize anger often.  I think I’m frustrated, I’m hurt, I’m disappointed etc.  I grew up as the “good girl” in a house of crazy boys, and being angry was not ever on my agenda. 

Today, I got angry about a situation in which I feel I have little control, and I’ve done every honest and upfront thing I can to try and gain some understanding of the other party. 

So, I went for a run.  A late night run with my (somewhat confused) little dog.  I left my Forerunner behind, but I should’ve taken it, because I kicked butt.  I ran what I know was over 4k, and let’s just say, I was panting harder than the confused dog.

At the end of the run, I collapsed on a large rock (that doesn’t sound all that comfortable, now does it?) that sits, waiting for me, on my street.  And I cried a bit, truth be told.

And I feel about 100% better.  What will be, will be.  I can only be me. 

1. Diet Coke.  I never thought I’d really stick with it, but I have indeed given up Diet Coke.  I no longer buy it, and when I’m out and happen to order one, I actually have trouble getting through it and end up regretting it.  It tastes “tin-ny” and wierd somehow.  If you knew how much I LOVED Diet Coke … truly rejoicing at the sound of that can opening … it is amazing that I can say I’ve kicked it.  I’m mostly a water gal now.  My favourite, which you have to try, is cutting up 10 – 12 slices of cucumber and “brewing them” in the fridge overnight in a big pitcher of water.  It’s heavenly, I tell you, and you won’t believe it until you try it.  I had it at a lovely Vancouver spa a few years ago, and it’s just divine.  Try it and tell me if you don’t feel like a guy named Robert just gave you the best 2-hour massage ever.  Or your not aching for a new toenail colour.  Or both.

2.Reaching for something sweet and creamy (that reads:  ice cream / chocoloate) whenever my children all go to sleep.  I didn’t even know that I was doing this until I kept a food journal a few months ago.  You know, your typical “what-are-you-eating-and-how-did-you-feel” schtick.  Sometimes there are great revelations in simple things.  “8:45:  Ice cream.  I feel relieved.”  or “8:35.  2 handfuls of chocolate chips.  I feel like celebrating, but am now sure why.”  Bingo.  I feel like I need some kind of reward for getting the troops tucked in and cozy.  Ridiculous.  Now my reward is a bath, a cup of tea on the phone with my long-distance friend, time to write on the couch.  It’s all in the way we frame things, isn’t it?

3.Screening calls.  I used to think that this was this big timesaver in my life — take calls when I want to take them — but then I found myself strangely screening calls as a way to procrastinate.  Now I take the call, and if I can’t deal with the problem right then, I say so.  Seems like I should know that, being in my mid-thirties, and all.  Procrastination just creates more work at some point, somehow.

4.Saving way too much paper.  Fact is, I love paper.  Paper = memories to me.  I have kept a journal since I knew how to write — not an everyday diary — but a regular journal.  I have trouble throwing out things like letters, cards, and stuff.  I’ve started to really go through things, and save only the extra-special.  The journals, I’ll keep, of course.  My kids and their families will need something to giggle at after my funeral one day.  Or perhaps to take to therapy.

5.Grocery shopping without a list.  Ooooh, you know I love a list.  But I went  through a crazy-spell of grocery shopping in the most compulsive of ways.  A few years back, our financial situation improved greatly, and we didn’t need to budget as much for everyday things.  I would easily stop at the store, and spend $100 on a new pasta sauce … and look at these olives … and they have a sushi bar now!  You get the idea.   Silly, and a lot of food went bad in my fridge because I had no plan.  I’m back to menu planning (supper menus only — I love a list, but I’m not that anal) and grocery shopping accordingly.  It just goes better.

So, have you kicked any not-so-great habits recently?

A friend pointed out to me this morning that I cough quite a bit when I run.

 I don’t have a cold, so I find this odd.

Not a hacking, yucky smoker’s cough (I do NOT smoke, by the way), but just a shallow, small but consistent cough when I really exert myself. 

Hmmmmm.

Mild asthma?  Gasping for oxygen?  Hypochondria?

1.  Troy is consistently in the Top Five swimmers in his age group in our region (which ranges from Edm to Jasper).  He’s evolved this summer — not just as a swimmer, but as a boy — full of sportsmanship and team spirit and pride and passion.  And, he could kick my butt any ol’ day doing butterfly.

 2.  Derek had a very, very successful and INCREDIBLY FUN time at camp.  His counsellor described him as “so polite” and “fearless”.  Absolutely nothing I didn’t know.  I couldn’t wait to pick him up today.  Some kids are just good huggers, y’know?  He is definitely one of those.  And here’s the next thing he can be fearless on …

 3.  And there’s the girl.  Do you know how many millions of names we have for Camryn?  Cami, Ryn, Cami-Lou-Who, Missy, Princess, Peanut, Sweet Pea, Cam, Camalamadingdong, Luna Bear … it just goes on.  I’m not just going to brag about her because she’s so incredibly cute … she’s getting really smart.  Today, she told me that Derek wasn’t being appropriate.  I asked her what he did.  She said, “If I tell you, then I’m not being appropriate, am I, Mom?”  Sigh.  She’s 3 going on 33, I tell ya.

 So, that’s my shameless braggin’ of the week. 

 Oh, one more?  We got a trampoline this summer (best investment EVER … we love it!).  They boys often get really hot jumping around, and Camryn has to be just like her brothers …. (yet more appropriate ….)

Just dropped off Derek at camp, for his first time, for a two-night deal.  He is THRILLED to the moon, as his whole cabin erupted in an impromptu soccer game at drop-off time. 

 Me, I feel as if I lost something somewhere.  I’m so excited for him, and this huge leap of independence, but that’s not taking away the pit in my stomach.

A good run will take care of that icky feeling … right?   Right??

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about my philosophies on life.  The other night, I went to Taste of Edmonton (if you’re ever here you MUST go and have the green onion cakes …. oooh la la) with my girlfriend.  Corrie and I are a pair that just “click” in conversation.  She’s one of the smartest women I know, frankly.  We started talking about really defining one’s life philosophy, your “code”. 

I won’t get into it all here, but I will share one major aspect of my code, as I just figured out this morning how it relates to running and fitness.

I truly live my life seeking out opportunities for joy.  From the time I was a child, I have been very aware and appreciative of my surroundings.  I remember being very young, and on my Dad’s shoulders on a family trip in the Rocky Mountains.  At probably five or six, I remember closing my eyes, and trying to preserve the beauty around me in my mind.  And the joy in that moment didn’t come from just the magestic mountains, but from the fact that our whole family was together at that moment, still and in awe of the creation before us.  I can see my brothers, not fighting or teasing for that moment, just turning, degrees at a time, to take it all in.  I remember my mom, glancing up at me fondly, and then nestling in to my dad’s shoulder.  There we were.  At that time, to me, that was joy.

Now I prescribe joy in my life in everyday ways.  I know that I need to be in the water, in a recreational sense, at least every second day.  I need to start my day by writing and end it by reading.  One of my greatest joys as a parent is surprising my kids.  That might be a note, that might be chocolate chip pancakes on an otherwise mundane Wednesday, that might be cranking the music on a quiet drive home from swim practice.  I love the “Mom?” look in their eyes that shakes up the routine of their life. 

For a long time, I resigned myself to the fact that joy to me would never relate to fitness, and certainly never to running.  I plowed through working out and learning to run, thinking that my sliver of joy may come from the accomplishment, but certainly not the process.  Now, a disclaimer:  I am not a marathoner … I have yet to run a distance that truly makes me dig to the bottom of my soul to carry myself across a finish line.  Capiche? 

That being said, I have shifted my thinking from the joy in the aftermath of the run — the exhileration, the tingling legs, the bit o’ bragging rights that I have to my small runs (and only to non-runners, really …)  Those are all still joyful, believe me.  Now, I have challenged myself to find joy in the muck of it.  To use the run to look around, to breathe in and try to muster a grin.  To be in awe of the world around me, to be appreciative of every step my body can take.  To be silly, and when I run up to a puddle, think about what my son would do, and jump in with both feet.

I’ve completely reframed my run.  For a girl whose run was feeling pretty mundane, prescribing joy into my run has just spilled over, and made me more conscious of doing that in my everyday life.

Before I start carpe-diem-ing all over you, I challenge you to think of five ways you’re going prescribe joy into your life, or just into your run this week.  (You didn’t know I was going to end this with a list?  Ha!  Get to know me! )

Mine are:

1.  I’m driving into the city tonight, for the soul purpose of running along the river valley in Edmonton.  One of my favorite spots that I need to make more time for.

2.  I’m not allowing myself to feel an ounce of guilt for keeping my weekly massage appointment for the third week in a row.  (Okay, we have coverage, so that’s not much of a stretch.)

3.  This weekend, we’re going to take our company out to Chickakoo Lake, where I will carve out even 20 minutes to run the beautiful trails.

4.  I’m going to make a gorgeous salad for lunch, just for me, even if my kids have hot dogs.

5.  When Camryn gets out the playdough this afternoon, I’m going to use the time NOT to make supper, but to make snails and squishy snowmen.

So …. what’s one of yours?

Camryn was in my bedroom, watching me get dressed for my run this morning.

Camryn:  “You have big b00bies and I have small ones.  See?”  (flips up D0ra nightie)

Me:  Yep.

Camryn:  Why do you get the big ones?

Me:  Hmmmm …. because Mommy is an adult?

Camryn:  You’ve got princess b00bies, Mommy!  You’re lucky!  Pretty princess ones!

Me:  Wow … thanks!

Camryn:  Do they bounce around when you run?

Me:  Sometimes.

Camryn:  Oh.  (sympathetic pause) That’s why you have to tie them down with the bra, right?  So the b00bies stay down and behave?

Me: (laughing to hard to respond like an adult)

Camryn:  (completely serious)  Can I get a D0ra bra?