Football is my Favorite Season

I’m sure most people have noticed that when you see a couple in a relationship, one person sort of takes on the interests of the other, but it’s sort of a one-way deal.  I can think of numerous situations where I have seen this happen.  I have been lucky that in my marriage, we sort of balance in that way.  My husband has gotten me into many new things and new music and in turn, because of me he has new favorite things as well.  But one way that he sort of opened me up to new things was football.

I didn’t care for football growing up, and even as a young adult, I was indifferent.  But my husband got me into football the year before our marriage, and he did so through getting me involved in fantasy football.

Now, I went into this with very little background knowledge, just a bunch of stats.  I love stats.  I love probabilities and I love competition.  I am highly competitive.  Through fantasy football, I was able to satisfy all of this in myself without having to actually personally tackle anyone.  It was a great joy!

For years, I played in fantasy football leagues with my husband, usually playing with his friends and coworkers whom I didn’t really know.  After a couple of years fumbling with lineups and strategies, I finally got my feet under me.  A few years ago, I made it to the final round and lost the last game by only two points.  That was so aggravating to me, but the plus side was that I was the only girl and I came in second place.

In previous years, before canceling my cable with my extended sports package, I spent Sundays engrossed in the Redzone channel and could attest most weeks to seeing every single touchdown every single week.  This, of course, seriously cut into my homework time as well.  Tuesday mornings we sleepy having stayed up the night before to watch the game.

But in the process of becoming an addict to this sort of stats based competition, I also built bonds with some friends.  One particular friend, who I met via a “friend of a friend” sort of relationship, and whom I sort of struck up a friendship by chance, was someone who was also into fantasy football.  Through this, we not only always had something to talk about, but we had someone to strategize with who wasn’t a competitor in our own league!

But aside from the competition, the fun touchdown celebrations and my favorite, the fighting, I love to see the good that can come from strong leadership in coaching and teamwork.  Seeing a good leader take a mediocre team from defeat to victory inspires me in a way I cannot describe (hence why I love the Friday Night Lights series with coach Eric Taylor!).  Another thing I love is the generosity of the players who demonstrate what being a role model should look like.

We saw that this summer with J.J. Watt from the Houston Texans, raising money to help his city when they were in despair after the hurricane.  Through his own personal efforts, he raised millions of dollars and put his own feet on the ground to help those in need.  It was a little bit disappointing to see that he was not chosen to be GQ’s Citizen of the Year, both with his charitable activity and his overall integrity and good attitude.  But he inspired a nation, and maybe you don’t need a title or an award to make a difference.

Competition, leadership, statistics, teamwork, and some great role models; no wonder that football is my favorite season!

Finally ran a Mile!

I finally ran my first full mile!
A few days ago, I had signed up for a local 5k, one that I had also run last year. Given my recent success on my half marathon, I had intended to really push as hard as I could to run as much as possible. I had plenty of time to walk around and get warmed up before the race, so I started off running and ran until I hit one mile. I was exhausted but elated!
As a kid, I never ran. In gym class, I would participate and growing up I was a decent goalie in both hockey and soccer, and it prevented me from having to do much running. I have always been an active person, but running was never my thing. I had been born with a bone tumor on left knee, and some activities were uncomfortable or painful.
I finally had that tumor removed when I was eighteen, but that honestly left my knee in even worse shape.
I have always loved biking and walking. For years, I owned a recumbent stationary biked and used it every day. After that, I switched to an elliptical, and now I own a treadmill. I mostly walk, though I like to incorporate small amounts of running to elevate my heart rate, as even brisk walking won\’t get my heart rate into the cardio zone. So, I run or use hills to raise my HR.
In 2014, I started doing timed races, and it was fun for me to see how fast I could manage to finish when just walking. Sometimes, I could actually pass some of the slower runners, so I didn\’t feel very disadvantaged. We were all out there together, being active and enjoying the fresh air. I was never going to win anything, but that wasn\’t the point. And as I have written before, most people in the running community are very encouraging to us slow pokes!
Last year, especially on our longer races, I started running quarter miles. This improved my finish times a bit and also helped me get my HR up, and more importantly, it challenged me. I tend to get very bored when I am unchallenged.
When I created my Day Zero list, I added “run a full mile” to it, not because I aspire to become a runner, but because it would be hard for me, but it would remove a mental block in my mind that I couldn\’t do it.
So, I ran the first mile, with no pain, but with a lot of doubt. I think that doubt weighs me down more than anything. My sister, ever my coach, pushed me, reminding me at every tenth of a mile that it would be a waste of my energy to give up. I made it, and I felt absolutely triumphant! And despite the fatigue I faced, after walking for a bit, I was able to run again, on and off, until the race was over.
I also give credit to the stranger in the last quarter mile, who saw me slowing down at the end, and coached and encouraged me not to give up. I probably didn\’t really need his encouragement, there\’s no way I was just going to stop, but it motivated me further knowing this is a group of people helping each other reach their goals. It\’s nice that there are people out there so positive and helping others improve!

My Most Embarrassing Experience

Nine years ago this week, I was living the true life story that would one day become known as “Bubba’s Terlet.”
This is a true story, and not for the faint of heart.  Those who can’t appreciate this sort of humor have been warned!
My husband and I had only been married for a couple of years, and we were traveling across the country to be with his family for a funeral.  I have always been plagued by digestive disorders, and they become worse when I travel.  I’d spent much of the journey feeling sick to my stomach, but felt like maybe I was starting to feel better once we had arrived.
We were staying with his beloved uncle, whom I love dearly, and we had been sleeping for a while in the bedroom there when I woke up in absolute agony.    As my husband dozed, untroubled by my condition, I became entrenched in the “Bubba’s terlet” story, where I could only wonder if I was going to need to call an ambulance or a plumber, or both.
Sparing the harrowing details of my experience, I will summarize by stating that it ended with me finally leaving an apologetic but very honest note confessing my crime on the bathroom door when I finally, in sweet relief, went back to bed.  It had not occurred to me at this point to beg my husband to take the blame for this – though you can rest assured that I would insist upon it if it happened now!  I was fairly certain that I had destroyed the plumbing – but was momentarily relieved that I had not died in the process!
Needless to say, this was the most embarrassing experience of my life, and my husband’s uncle could not have been more gracious about it.  He didn’t make me feel embarrassed at all (though that could not be helped, by morning I wished I would have just died in the effort and spared myself this new agony!), and he never once brought it up to me again.
After my father passed away, we played a lot of word games, and “Bubba’s terlet” became a common answer to things, and we all found relief from our sadness through laughter.  I finally sent a text message to his uncle and asked him if he remembered that day, and he was as sweet and funny about it as he had been at the time.

However, I am fairly certain that when I die if my siblings are left in charge of writing my obituary, this story will make it in there!

Rising Up Against Bullying

Recently, I was privy to a situation at work where a former coworker of mine began escalating behavior against another employee in a way that constituted harassment.

What really resonated with me is that this employee had harassed me in the past, too.  And when that happened several years ago, I was able to resolve the situation quietly and without getting any official involvement.  I was pleased at the time that the issue resolved itself, but now that this person has a history of this behavior, I very much regret that I did not at least submit a written statement against it at the time.  This person now has a history of this repeated behavior.

I am sure I was not the first person, either.  She has bullied and abused her way through life, and she has zero emotional regulation.  She is an angry person who somehow feels fulfilled by taking others down.  It’s not fair, it’s counterproductive, and no one needs to put up with this.

Sometimes, I think when we get entangled into these situations we come up with reasons why we think we are targets, or at the very least, reasons why we worry about speaking out.  In this new situation that has arisen, with so much previous conflict between the two, I think the newly targeted employee feels like she shouldn’t rock the boat too hard, she doesn’t want to cause a disturbance, etc.

But no matter what, whatever your other areas of opportunity, no one deserves to be harassed or bullied. Even if you are the weakest member of your team, you do not deserve to be harassed or bullied.

This isn’t to say I support any type of vindictive retaliation against anyone.  Whether it is within your personal life, or in a workplace or club setting, there are many protocols available to report and get assistance in dealing with this sort of behavior.

When advising this former coworker of mine regarding this incident she is facing with this other employee, I told her to document and report, but in all other ways, remain on the high ground.  The things she is enduring are unacceptable, but I believe in the end she will triumph over this.  And hopefully, she will be a role model to her peers to stand up against this behavior as well.

People become angry or hurt or feel rejected due to various things and people are entitled to work through these feelings in a healthy way, but they are not entitled to harass or bully another person.  There are laws, organizational policies and so on protecting against this sort of thing.  More needs to be done.  But we take the first step against it when we stand up and say no, we will not accept it.

“One\’s dignity may be assaulted, vandalized and cruelly mocked, but it can never be taken away unless it is surrendered.” – Michael J. Fox

I Finally Got to be a Hero!

This weekend I was able to check another couple of goals off of my Day Zero Project list!
My sister has been a long time blood donor and has a rare donor card. She gives as often as she is able. Years ago, I attempted to donate but the combined fact that I am a hard stick and slow bleeder made this a failure, and the process was so frustrating and uncomfortable for me that I didn\’t try again.
Until this weekend!
I went to the nearest donation center, where it was comfortable and the staff was very friendly. With hardly any issue at all, I was able to make a successful donation. So I got to check that one off of my list. Secondly, because of donating, I finally know my blood type (I am A negative!). Another one to check off of the list!
During my years as a corporate outreach leader, I facilitated many blood drives successfully. I always cheered people on by telling them that by participating in a drive, they would be a hero to someone. They were giving life. And finally, I got to be a hero, too!
I know plenty of people who have needed transfusions at some point in their lives, including my parents. I am glad that someone had been selfless enough to donate the blood they needed, and I am hopeful that I can, in turn, help someone else.

I am eager to become a regular donor. When my sister and I went to donate this weekend, it was her 51st donation. I hope someday I reach that milestone, too!

Learning The Hard Way

I try to do most things right.  I drink a lot of water, I am very active, I sleep on a regular schedule, and I eat a decently healthy diet.  So I have always kind of shrugged it off that I had my little vices, like my addiction to Diet Pepsi, because I am already doing so many things right that what is one little thing?
I have always had an addictive personality. I have trouble moderating things.  I can’t just allow myself one Diet Pepsi a week.  Then it becomes every day, then twice a day, and the next thing you know I am swimming in a chemical cesspool.
I remember back in high school, I would walk to school sometimes with a coffee in one hand and a Pepsi in the other.  I went off of liking coffee at some point in my late teens or early twenties and have never enjoyed it since then, but the Pepsi fascination stuck.  I eventually switched to Diet, which I loved even more than regular, and that continued on until I was about twenty-two or twenty-three.
I have always had some level of gastrointestinal distress.  I am lactose intolerant and have several other digestive issues that cause me discomfort and finally, I realized soda was making it worse.  I felt like I was burning a hole through myself (think of Helen in Death Becomes Her).  So I quit cold turkey and stayed away from all sodas and carbonated drinks for years, nearly a decade.
My weakness for diet fountain soda caught up with me just as I was starting to lose weight and I decided that I was working so hard losing weight that I sort of owed myself a treat.  What a disaster.  What started off very reasonably soon was out of control (as I knew would happen).  I have been me long enough to know.
I get very cranky when people start lecturing me about what I shouldn’t do health-wise, especially when they are not exactly following all of the rules either.  I shouldn’t drink diet soda, but you shouldn’t spend 6 hours an evening sitting on the couch, either.  So the more snarky condemnation I got about drinking diet soda, the more defiant I got.  My mom would probably say this is typical behavior from me. 
Sometimes I learn the hard way, and this was one of those times.  I started feeling bloated more and more, and again had that feeling of a hole burning through me at times.  So on October 20th, I drank my last diet soda.  I fully expected a period of withdrawal headaches and cravings, but so far the only thing I have noticed is that I feel better. 
So, farewell to my little canned friends and the delightful sound they make when they crack open.  I will miss you, but you are bad for me.

I will never give up chocolate though.  Never.

The Impact of Encouragement

When I created my Day Zero Project list, I created a long health and fitness section.  One of the goals I included on my list was to complete a half marathon in under 2 hours and 55 minutes.
Prior to creating the list, I had three timed half marathons, one at 3:10, the second at 3:08 and the third at 2:57.  I am not a runner.  I like long, hard endurance walks, but even as of yet, I have never run a full mile in my life.  During half marathons, I attempt to run about 20% of every mile, but usually, by about mile 10 or 11, I am pooped and can no longer run!
After my third half marathon, when I finally got under that 3-hour mark, I was elated.  I was almost sick at the finish line, I was exhausted and wobbly, and I was jittery for quite a while after it was over.  So adding to my list a goal that would require me to do even better and work even harder seemed like a stretch to me.
I was just able to check this goal off of my list, and I am thrilled about it.  Not only because I actually finished in 2:51, but because I finished strong!  I was not sick, I was not wobbly.  After the race, we had a full mile walk back to the car, and I was totally fine with it.  After I got home and showered, I did some laundry and had no problem walking around.  I am less proud of my time than I am of how strong I felt after it was over.  I have come a long way in the last year.
I have to thank my sister in large part for this.  She is the one who coaches me along during races.  She tells me when to run and keeps me on pace.  She reminded me at the halfway point that my goal of 2:55 was still completely doable.  She doesn’t need to stick with me.  She can run the race by herself in a little over 2 hours, so really, coaching me holds her back.  But she helps me achieve my goals, and I appreciate that so much!
I have until December of 2019 to complete the goals on my Day Zero list, and I figured this would be one of the ones I would be stressing over in the final months trying to achieve.  But it is checked off and I am already wondering which goal I should push toward next!

I am thinking that next month I will set a PR on a 5k that I have scheduled!

The Teacher Who Changed My Life

I was telling the story recently of the high school teacher I had who truly changed my life in a tangible way.  I had no way of knowing at the time but had it not been for her, I would never have ended up a graduate level student getting a business degree in Management.
I was a total dunce at math starting in about the tenth grade.  I was starting to struggle, and they kept trying to teach me visually, and I am not a visual learner.  By the time I reached twelfth grade, I was dancing the line between passing and failing and it was a terrible mess.
Mrs. B was my math teacher, and she would have described herself as a little kooky.  She had funny farmyard analogies for remembering concepts which seemed ridiculous until they came back to you during an exam.  During the mainstream senior level math class, I struggled and ended up passing only with four percent to spare, but Mrs. B saw something in me.
She came to me after class one day and said she thought she understood why I struggled, and if I would grant her one more semester, she would turn me from a struggling math student into a confident one.  Even though I had barely passed her class, I had met the requirements for what I needed to graduate, but I was curious what it was she saw in me.  No teacher had expressed such faith in me before this.  No other teacher had been willing to go out of their way to guide me in this way.
I dropped the elective I had in my final semester of high school and signed up for her remedial math course.  I had never been a remedial student.  Not only that, but this was totally elective, as I already had met the graduation requirement.  But in the weeks to come, she changed me. 
I left her class and went on to college not just understanding but fully grasping and actually excelling in math.  In every level of math that I have taken in post-secondary, I have been top of my class.  I help other students.  Many years have passed since then but I have never forgotten that I walked into Mrs. B’s class as an insecure, skeptical student and walked out confident and totally empowered.
When I got into statistics in college, I was the exact kind of student that my instructor didn’t like.  I was a little bit giggly and goofy and had become good friends with the girl next to me, and we were having a ball every day in class.  My instructor became convinced that I was cheating.  She provided a bonus question at the end of every test, and as a result, my grade in the class was over 100%.  On the final exam, she stood over my shoulder and stated that I must be cheating.  I kind of laughed and asked who I was cheating off of since I had the highest grade in the class.  She insisted it must be programmed into my calculator.  So I handed her my calculator and said, “Then watch me do this without one.”  I turned in my exam and grabbed my stuff to walk out, and she said, “I can’t believe someone like you can be this good.”  And I smiled and said, “You’re welcome for helping raise your class average.”

In the years after that, I reached out to Mrs. B via email to thank you for the impact she made on my life.  Not just in learning math or empowering me academically, but in changing my whole life.  She taught me that if I put my mind to something, I can achieve it.  That is a life lesson I will never forget.

Food is My Favorite

I love food.  I was talking to my friend the other day about utensils, and we both agreed that we enjoy eating with cutlery as opposed to eating with our hands, but if the need arises, hands are fine.  I finally said, “Food is such a high priority to me that if I was required to bend forks with my mind in order to eat, I could probably do it.”
My mom has a four year post-secondary education in cooking, so I grew up eating well, and despite a small period in my life where I wanted to eat only PB&J sandwiches for every meal, I did grow up to have a diverse taste for food.  I am not a picky eater at all, and I am always willing to try something new.
The trouble with this, of course, is that it can definitely interfere with my goals of being fit and healthy.  Sometimes I wish I was picky so I could at least have the desire to say no to food!
Since I started counting my calories last year, I have become a little more discerning.  I love cake.  But not all cakes are created equal.  Chocolate cake is clearly superior and I will budget room in my day for a slice.  Italian cream cake…I can pass on it.  I am not willing to do the extra time on my treadmill for it.  Even if it’s good, it’s not worth it to me anymore.
I have also become more interested in discovering ways to substitute out food that burns through my calorie budget with lower calorie options that are equally as delicious.  I have always loved French fries.  But they are both high calorie and very salty and neither are good for my day.  I started buying baby potatoes, cutting them up small, boiling them briefly and then roasting them really hot in the oven until they were crispy.  I leave them unsalted and eat them with ketchup, and it satisfies my need for French fries for a much lower calorie cost and I was able to do this while losing and maintaining my 30lb weight loss.
I am not one of those people who will become unbearable when I get hungry, and I would like to think I could fast and still be sensible and treat people courteously.  But I don’t like anything to stand between me and my food.  I plan my day around my next delicious morsel, a truly wonderful provision from God. 

Oddly enough, my passion for eating has not been met with a passion for cooking, but I am hoping that will slowly improve as well!

My Germaphobia

I hate it when people come into my house without taking off their shoes. I know that for most people where I live this is a common thing, but I think it\’s disgusting. Think about where your shoes are in a day? They touch the floors of public bathrooms, they cross parking lots, maybe at a sporting event where drinks are spilled in the stands, they cross streets and they collect whatever dirt and debris are found in your workplace.
I think it\’s perfectly reasonable to not want all of that on my rug at home, where I put my clean bare feet, which then slide into my bed at night. Perfectly reasonable!
But I do know my obsession with cleanliness borders on being a disorder. When other people tell me they are germaphobes I just smile. Sure they are.
I have been lucky that my husband has conformed to my hygienic needs. Not only that, so have my dogs. As puppies, the very first behavior they learned was to come inside one at a time, lift their paws and allow me to wipe their feet with baby wipes. They all adapted to this very well, which shows my commitment to cleanliness, because none of them can roll over on command!
I have some strong feelings about germs coming into my home. For example, if I go out somewhere, such as work, and use a public bathroom (which thanks to my constant hydration I do numerous times a day), I will not use my own bathroom at home until I have showered. I am sure everyone can read between the lines when I say that I don\’t need to rubber stamp the germs from work right down onto my own toilets.
Girls are constantly preaching at me that we shouldn\’t wash our hair every day. Oh please. I wake up in the morning and work out and then shower before work. But I shower again as soon as I get home. Quick showers, five minutes. But I cannot be comfortable without!
When I watch TV shows and people sit on their beds in their street clothes I cringe. My bedroom, of all places, is my sanctuary. It\’s clean and fresh, with clean bedding and clean jammies. There are no shoes in my bedroom, and there are certainly no street worn clothes on my bed!
This applies only to my home, though. When I am out, I am amenable to adapting to my surroundings. If necessary, I will use a porta-potty at events. But when I come home, clothes go into the washing machine, and I go directly to my shower.

We all struggle with things, this is (one of) mine. And while I accept that others find me weird or excessive, I think they are the weird ones!  Perhaps this is why I find Niles Crane so incredibly endearing!