Into the Lenten Wilderness

Posted: February 25, 2012 | Author: | Filed under: Faith | Tags: , , , , | 2 Comments

The season of Lent is once again upon us. As I shared last year at this time, I’m a fan of the discipline of sacrifice. This year’s distraction, and therefore the ‘sacrifice of choice,’ is the noise in my life from TV, radio, movies, and books. I have given up TV before, but that year I allowed movies. I have also given up Facebook/Social Media before, but seeing as I now work in that field, it seemed a bit ridiculous to try and find a way to give it up that wasn’t complicated and filled with loop-holes. Besides the spirit of this sacrifice is not about shutting out the outside world completely, but rather about turning down the volume low enough that I am not drowning myself out.

I go into each season with grand illusions of all the amazing things I will do in lieu of what I gave up. When it’s food-related, I imagine the amazing weight I’ll lose and the healthy glow that will come from my disciplined ways. This year I thought I would spend all this new-found free time getting my house clean and organized, and writing prolifically. So far in the writing category we’ve got this post and, well, that’s it so far. It also turns out the reason I don’t spend all my ‘free’ time cleaning the bathroom is not because my brains have been sucked out by the TV, but because cleaning the toilet is not that fun or spiritually fulfilling.  (It has occurred to me that perhaps some year I need to give up grand illusions, but clearly that is not this year.)

Mostly what I’m noticing just 3 days in is that I’m incredibly restless. I have restless brain syndrome. I have a hard time settling down to sleep at night and I wake up in the early hours of the morning. Even maintaining my focus to write this post was a challenge. I had no idea just how much of a sedative effect the TV (et al) has on me. I imagine this must be some flavor of what it’s like to have ADHD. Fortunately, my running brings relief as the physical exertion seems to counter the mental agitation, and the pleasure I get from socializing with my fellow teammates helps as well. I also trust I’ll settle into the new, less distracted brain in the coming days.

Because I think it helps to have a little help on any journey, I have also committed to going to church every Sunday through Easter. Brian and I were part of a very close church community before we moved to Seattle proper and we have not found a new church home in the four years that we’ve lived here. Truthfully, we haven’t exactly looked either. We’ve gone a couple of times to a nearby church that is progressive enough to meet our needs, but not often enough to know any names. For the next 7 Sundays, this same church will be our spiritual guide on the Lenten journey.

So, into the wilderness I go. What will I find there? Only God knows and only time will reveal.

A Running (re)Start

Posted: February 19, 2012 | Author: | Filed under: Running | Tags: , , | Leave a comment

I was on the phone with a client this past week who also happens to be a runner. I asked her how her training was going and she said not very well, that she hadn’t been running and was going to have to basically start over. We chatted briefly about how the “re-start” seemed to be a fixture for most runners.

There are those for whom running has become an ingrained fixture in their lives and they couldn’t imagine going more than a day or two without running. If that’s you, I’m both happy for you and hate you a little. I am not one of those people. It’s one of the reasons I train with a group like Team in Training. The group keeps me accountable and focused on my next endurance event. But I will tell you after my feet cross the finish line five months from now, the only running I’ll want to do is towards the sofa.

The price I pay for half a year of laziness is that I have to start over from scratch every Jan/Feb when I get itching to do another endurance event.  Here in the middle of February my body has figured out that things have changed… It’s discovered that those first runs were not a fluke and my hibernating muscles are being rudely awoken from their slumber. And like waking a sleeping bear, they are not happy about it. Things ache, muscles get sore, I get sore, I get sleepy. I probably have another good 2-3 weeks before my body settles back into the routine and ‘remembers’ what it’s like to be a runner.

I suppose my running life would be easier if I kept it up year round, if even just in a maintenance program of light running in the ‘off’ season.  But there seems to be something equally important for me psychologically of not running. I love doing the Seattle Rock N Roll half marathon precisely because it’s held in late June and am able to ‘take the summer off’ and save the very best of Seattle summer weather for whatever fun stuff strikes my fancy. That often includes being active – riding bikes, kayaking, hiking. But it also includes cloud gazing, porch lounging, and lazy Saturdays spent reading. I love being a runner and no matter how many times I leave it behind, I’m always drawn back into it. And I also can’t imagine a life in which there is no room for cloud gazing, too. I wonder sometimes if this time away is also part of the draw. I miss running which is what prompts me to sign up each January. It’s hard to miss something if you don’t have a little time and space away from it.

And other obstacles get in the way of our best laid plans. A runner’s life is inevitably filled with injuries large or small that take us off our feet for periods of time. Never mind life in general with work, travel, illness, family, weather, holidays. It’s easy to say those are simply excuses, and sometimes they are, but other times we have a few too many balls in the air and something has to give, and sometimes that thing is running.

The good news is there is much to be said for starting anew. I look forward to starting my training, meeting new people, seeing old friends again. The fun I get from these re-starts reminds me that you can get back on the horse. I have re-started so many times that I know instinctively that a break from running is far from a permanent situation. Success in running, or in anything really, is not about how many times you stop or fail, it’s about making the choice to start again.

Fall down nine times, get up ten…  ~Japanese proverb

Running in the dark

Posted: February 7, 2012 | Author: | Filed under: Running, Team in Training | Tags: , , , | 1 Comment

On Tuesday evenings I run with my Team in Training group around Green Lake and at this time of the year it’s still getting dark pretty early.  For tonight’s practice, we ran on the “inner” loop which has no path lighting. This means we run in the dark. I have a small headlamp, but it mostly just allows me to see the time on my watch and maybe 1 foot down the trail. And my eyesight is only good for staying on the path (generally) and not falling on my face (most of the time), but otherwise I have to rely on my other senses to keep my bearings. Because of my pace (faster than walking, slower than running – I call it “slogging”) I am quickly by myself for all but the very beginning and end of the runs. Despite being a ridiculously social person, I enjoy having my running time to myself. When you run in the pitch dark, you are truly alone with your thoughts. Mostly I focus on my breath and tell myself to relax into the run. Somehow, when it’s just me and my breathing and the darkness, relaxing comes easier. Tonight I ran a negative split (meaning the second half of the run was faster than the first). Running a negative split is about holding back and starting out slow to warm up, and then easing into a more steady pace for the finish. I will confess that I have never been very good at negative splits. It’s not that I start out too fast, it’s more that I start slow, warm up slow, and then finish off slow – I’m usually all about the even split. For whatever reason, tonight, running in almost complete darkness, I was able to focus solely on my running and finally achieve the elusive negative split.

Party’s over, now the work begins

Posted: January 29, 2012 | Author: | Filed under: Life's Observations, Running, Team in Training | Tags: , , , | Leave a comment

Now that the glow of the Team in Training kick-off party is over, and I’ve gotten my first practice out of the way, it’s down to simply doing the work. Probably because I am such a social creature, I look forward to the group practices and I pretty faithfully attend every Tuesday evening and Saturday morning practice session. It’s all the runs I have to do on my own that are trickier. I am actually the queen of procrastination and come up with any number of reasons that it makes more sense to delay my practice to lunchtime, then after work, and oh, maybe let’s just skip today (I only have to run 5 days a week and I take every loophole I can in regards to making that math work out).  Before TNT, when I was training for half-marathons on my own, I told myself every weekend that I would do my long runs on Saturdays. Near as I can tell, that never happened. I always, 100% of the time, delayed until Sunday. And here was my typical Sunday thought process – I can’t run in the morning because I just had breakfast; oh now I’m hungry and I can’t do a long run on an empty stomach, so now I have to have lunch.  I’ll just watch this movie first then I’ll go… I would delay and dilly-dally until it was literally as late as I could get away with leaving and still finish my run before dark (and I pushed that so far that I often returned to the trail-head in deep dusk). It’s almost a miracle that I was actually able to complete my training and run in two half-marathons. I suppose it’s a testament to my stubborn nature.

The structure TNT provides is a huge help, but my procrastinating ways are still in full force on those days I am left to my own devices.  I had coffee with a friend at a nearby coffee shop this morning and as I was walking home the inner dialogue started. It was almost lunchtime, so maybe I should have lunch first (never mind the huge, late breakfast I had that morning). I stopped myself and decided to go home and simply change into my running gear, then I could weigh my options. Of course, once I put on my running shoes and leggings, I just sucked it up and got out on the trail. Now lest you think I have turned over a whole new leaf, while on my run I started debating with myself about whether or not I should do a run on Monday (here’s where that 5 day math comes into play).

No one held a gun to my head and forced me to keep signing up for these races. And I love the races – the excitement of the day, the sense of accomplishment. But that’s five months down the road. There really isn’t anything all that exciting about doing a 30 min easy recovery run on a cold and dreary Sunday afternoon. On the other hand, there really isn’t anything all that painful about it either. So why do I procrastinate almost to the point of absurdity?

I went to the source of all wisdom and knowledge…the internet. A search of “why do people procrastinate” turns up a bunch of pscyhology-based content that describes people who are afraid of success, unable to make decisions, or are uninspired by their goals. Well, I was pretty clear on my decision to sign up for the race in the first place, and running a half-marathon is in fact a very inspiring goal for me. I supposed I could buy fear of success if this weren’t my 4th half-marathon. I am already quite confident in my ability to succeed. I found another series of links for ‘Temporal discounting.’ This is a concept where our brains are warped by believing short-term rewards are more valuable than medium-term rewards. (In other words, I’m going to be happier by watching a movie now than I will by running 13.1 miles in 5 months  – which requires I run 3 miles today). That may be closer to my situation, but considering I always feel so much better when I do go for that run (i.e., it provides a short-term reward), the internet may just be a bunch of bunk.

I think the truth is that the time in between the kick-off and the finish line is work. It’s not painful or unbearable work and it’s a choice I’ve made for myself, but these weekly training runs are just something that needs to be done. Fundamentally, I know if I don’t do the work I won’t make it to the finish line and that is not an acceptable outcome for me. I ran today. I may or may not run tomorrow, but rest assured I will run five times between now and next Sunday.

Soul of a Runner

Posted: January 8, 2012 | Author: | Filed under: Running | Tags: , , , , , , | 2 Comments

If you were to encounter me on the street, I hardly look like an endurance athlete. I’m on the brink of my 43rd birthday, short, and about 75 pounds overweight. Running is not generally the first thing one associates with middle aged women of my size. In fact, if you were to encounter me out on the trail, running looks pretty much like the last thing I should be doing. I am painfully slow (it’s not too hard to walk faster than I slog/jog), my face gets bright red, and I am generally huffing and puffing like a pack-a-day smoker. If I was being sensible I should be out walking, not pathetically attempting to do something that only barely resembles running. I have walked a half-marathon and I can extoll the many virtues of walking. The training is easier, you see more along the way, and if you have a good walking partner you save boatloads in therapy sessions. But regardless of all I have going against me and all evidence to the contrary, I can’t stop running.

There is something inside of me that simply yearns to be out running. I see other runners and it pulls strings deep within. The other day, I hopped on the bus and saw a couple out for their morning run. When I got off downtown and crossed the street, I saw them again. They had managed to run downtown in the same time it took me to ride the bus and I could see from their back-packs that they were running to work. As soon as I saw them, I didn’t think they were crazy or wonder how they did it, I just wanted to be them. I wanted to be the kind of person who runs to work.

I think the other thing skinny folks forget when they see us larger-proportioned athletes out there chugging away is that we can’t see what we look like. I don’t see the red-faced little plump girl. I only know how I feel from the inside. I hear my breathing and it reminds me I am alive. I feel the rhythm of my feet hitting the ground, and the cadence is comforting, if not mesmerizing. I feel the strength of my legs and am in awe of the distances they carry me. I feel strong, powerful, enduring. Or sometimes its more the way I feel after a particularly tough run. The running itself can be filled with aches, pains, and frustration, but when I have reached deep down into the reservoir I didn’t know existed and found a way to propel myself to the top of the hill, gone faster than before, or when my foot crosses the finish line, I feel like I am on top of the world. It’s not that elusive runner’s high, but the even more addictive drug of accomplishing your goals.

Why running?  I have no idea. Does anyone really know why we have the passions we do, and does it really matter? I have friends who find themselves through art, music, cooking, or raising their families. It is just this thing I do. I have gone years without running for one reason or another and yet I always come back to it. People ask me if I am going to do triathlons. Maybe some day I’ll take on that challenge, but I mostly think why would I want to do those other two things when I could be running. One of my favorite race shirts had this on the back – “Run.” I guess I love it so much because it was such a great reminder not to over-think; just run, period. Why do I run? Because I have the soul of a runner. Period.

Managers are people too

Posted: December 14, 2011 | Author: | Filed under: Leadership | Tags: , , | Leave a comment

Today, I encountered a list of the differences between managers and leaders in Leaders vs Managers on Leadership Freak, guest written by Lolly Daskal (both of which I regularly follow in Twitter). I won’t recount the entire list, but here are a few of the differences Lolly shares:

  • Leaders lead people. Managers manage people.
  • Leaders inspire. Managers comfort.
  • Leaders have followers. Managers have subordinates.
  • Leaders break rules. Managers make rules.

Lolly asserts that both are valuable,

As you can see managers and leaders are two different people. Do organizations need both? YES.

But I have to ask myself, given these options, why would anyone ever want to be a manager?  Would you rather have followers or subordinates? Anyone out there rather make rules than break them? (And I have to question that one anyway- leaders are very often called to the difficult and less fun task of making the rules.)

It seems that anytime we talk about management and leadership in the same breath, management gets the short end of the stick. Take this point, for example:

Leaders have vision. Managers are about reaching goals.

Let’s re-frame it and see if it doesn’t change the playing field a little.

  • Leaders have vision. Managers help people make their dreams come true.

I like to think I have helped people make their dreams come true or at least pointed them in the right direction. Some days I have more or less vision than others and it is immensely rewarding to know that on any given day I can help people grow and evolve.

I started my first manager’s job on September 10, 2001, managing a team of trainers who traveled across the country. One of those trainers was in New York City on 9/11. She was fine, but never the same. It was quickly apparent that a career of getting on airplanes was no longer a viable option for her. Over the next 6 months, we worked on ways to ‘manage’ this new challenge she faced, and ultimately I helped her realize she needed to find another calling. I recall her clearly telling me the day I let her go that sometimes what she needed was a good ‘kick in the butt’ and if I hadn’t forced the issue, she probably never would have made a decision.

I suppose you could draw leadership parallels from this story, but for me this was fundamentally about managing a delicate situation and helping the person under my guidance maintain their dignity.  It is both an awesome responsibility and an amazing opportunity to be a manager, and in that role, employees have shared their most personal and poignant moments in their lives with me and asked for my help. I can’t think of anything I have done professionally that is more rewarding.

Besides, in my experience as a manager over the past 10 years, what most companies want is someone who has both leadership and management skills. They want a manager who helps their team follow the rules, but also has the good sense to challenge (or break) rules when they no longer make sense. They want a leader who can both set direction and lay out the steps to achieve that direction. Isn’t it about time we stopped contrasting the two roles and instead talk about how they complement each other?

Great Customer Service Only a Bus Ride Away

Posted: November 20, 2011 | Author: | Filed under: Customer Service, Life's Observations | Tags: , , , , | 1 Comment

Throughout my career, my work has always involved customer service in one way or another. The opportunity to help someone is the most rewarding aspect of every job I’ve held. In fact, I am sometimes stymied by how often customer service is so lacking when the real solution to most any company with service issues is to simply focus on helping people. I guess that is easier said than done, but I have found good service in some places where you might otherwise not expect it. Because I am so focused on the subject, and because it is my essentially my job to be a student of good service, I try to pay attention when I myself am the customer to learn what exactly “good” looks like.

Most days I ride the bus to work in Pioneer Square, south of downtown Seattle. The bus may be the last place to expect great customer service, but over and over again I blown away by the level of service I see there on a daily basis.

On one occasion I jumped off the bus and realized I had left my soda at home in the freezer. Not only did this leave me without my vital supply of morning caffeine, it also represented a huge mess in the freezer if left there for the rest of the day. As I crossed the street, a bus was pulling up to the stop going the other direction. I thought I could very easily hop on, go home, grab my soda and make it back to work in time. However, the bus I picked unfortunately made a right turn where I expected it to go straight and was obviously the wrong route. I walked up to the driver and asked where the next stop was and it was even more unfortunately WAY farther away than I expected to go. I asked if he would let me off on the street. This was a busy street and he said there was no way he was letting me off in the middle of traffic. Fair enough. I resigned myself to figuring out how to find my way back home, but he made another turn onto a slower street, pulled up to the curb (no bus stop in sight) and asked me if letting me off there would help and I was able to walk the rest of the way home. I was impressed that he said “no” when it wasn’t safe, but also took the initiative to offer me an alternate solution when he could. In fact, since being the recipient of that kindness, I have seen many a passenger be let on or off the bus outside of the regular stops when it is clear they have gotten themselves in a jam. I have also seen countless drivers tell a confused patron to jump on the bus and ride a few stops and have the driver give them detailed instructions about how to get where they are going, which includes not only which bus route to ride but also how to get there once they get off the bus.

Although Seattle has a high number of professional workers riding the bus, the buses going through downtown are all ride-free, so it has a fair number of homeless passengers as well. This last week I was on the way to work and a homeless gentleman in a wheel chair, along with several milk crates containing valued possessions got on the bus. This meant the driver had to lower the ramp to the curb, fold up the wheelchair accessible portion of the seats, and secure the passenger’s chair with two seat belts designed for this purpose. Not only does this take a considerable amount of time, but this particular passenger was in desperate need of a shower if not at the very least a toothbrush and some deodorant. The driver was extremely patient and before she took off the emergency brake and started the bus confirmed the rider was in fact secure.

You might think with all these lost and confused customers getting on the wrong bus or off at the wrong stop, combined with what most of us would consider less than savory clientele would put the drivers in a perpetually bad mood, but here again the opposite seems to be true. The drivers themselves get from stop to stop to switch drivers by riding the bus and they always seem extremely glad to see each other. In the few moments between transitioning between drivers I often seem them swapping stories and quickly catching up on the latest tidbits of gossip for the day. They also clearly get to know some of their regular customers and exchange friendly greetings when they see them entering the bus. I don’t know how it is in other cities, but the custom in Seattle is for riders to greet the driver with a “good morning” or “good afternoon” as they enter, and to leave them with a “thank you” as they depart, and I am always greeted with equal if not more enthusiastic responses in reply.

What can the rest of us learn from the King County Metro system?

  • Happy Employees provide better service
  • Empowered Employees will make better choices about how to best help your clients
  • Compassionate Employees not only help people but make your organization look good
  • Foster a culture of saying “thank you” which leads to more compassionate, empowered, and happier employees

Grandma speaks the truth

Posted: November 6, 2011 | Author: | Filed under: Life's Observations | Tags: , , , , | Leave a comment

Brian’s grandmother passed away on October 16 after 98 very full years in this world. I won’t recount her history as there is already a very good description in her obituary, and I’m in awe of all she accomplished. We only shared about 14 of those 98 years together, after Brian and his extended family entered my life, but they were certainly memorable years nonetheless. Probably the traits that stood out most for me were her extravagant welcome and acceptance of people, and her natural ability to exaggerate the facts to fit how she felt about us.

From the moment Brian introduced me to Grandma (and I always called her Grandma), she immediately accepted me as part of the family. I recall some family function that Brian took me to in those early days of our dating. We had been together long enough to meet the family, but it can’t have been more than 3 or 4 months into our relationship. I had met Grandma and Grandpa, as well as his parents and brother and sister-in-law, but I had yet to meet many of the cousins and other extended family. As was the case in most those family functions, there was a cacophony of kids squealing, parents hollering, people talking, sports on the TV and a density of bodies in the family room that would most certainly have blown the fire code by a substantial margin. Amongst all this noise, Grandma silenced the room by yelling out, “Everyone, everyone, Brian has an ANNOUNCEMENT to make.”  I could see Brian’s mother’s eyes widen and the room went dead silent and I think there was a collective inhale as folks started to suspect an engagement was about to be announced. This was equally surprising to Brian and I as there was no such announcement coming and these things were not even in our consciousness at this point. Brian rallied and said, “Everyone, this is Lyda. Lyda, this is everyone.”  Folks quickly went back to their conversations at hand and perhaps more used to Grandma’s typical pronouncements were less thrown by this outburst than I was. Of course, in retrospect, perhaps Grandma indeed saw something in the cards that Brian and I just hadn’t figured out yet, as we were engaged before the end of the following year.

Another time, I was training to run a 10K and my training came up in conversation while we were out having dinner out with Grandma and the rest of the clan. Brian’s cousin Lyndsey showed up after us and Grandma pulled her aside and said, “Oh Lyndsey, did you know Lyda is running a marathon?!” Not sure how we got from 6 miles to 26 miles in the course of a single conversation, but by this time I had come to realize if Grandma liked you all stories got enhanced in the retelling. And again, in the end, she may have just been ahead of her time as I did indeed complete a marathon many years later.

She also told Brian and I how Brian’s cousin Brent had just taken a new job after college. According to her, he was so good with computers that after less than a week at the job, they asked him to run all the computer systems for the company. According to Brent, he was just doing inside sales and didn’t have any better computer skills than anyone else there. At this point knowing Grandma’s track record, I would say Brent’s got a bright career coming somewhere in his future.

Even when she got to the point when her memory struggled to hang onto the details of day to day life, she was always extremely glad to see Brian and me. She would tell us what a wonderful couple we were (to which Brian still maintains, “Hey, Grandma speaks the truth.”) and to come visit anytime. One more poignant episode took place when we were starting to first see signs of her impending dementia. Brian and I were staying over at their house for the weekend and I was chatting with Grandma after dinner. She looked at me and said, “Listen, you can’t stay in the guest room because Lyda and Brian are staying over tonight, but we’ve got plenty of room so please make yourself welcome.” Even in that diminished state, her sense of welcome and hospitality kept going strong.

At the time I met Grandma, I had already lost all of my own grandparents, and she took me in as if I had always been a member of the family. Brian and I chose early on not to have any children of our own and I have always been extremely grateful we never got any pressure or guilt from family about that choice. One mother’s day weekend, Grandma decided to buy geraniums for all of the mothers in the family. She just could not bring herself not to get one for me as she felt like that would have left me out, so in the blink of an eye she handed over the flowers and told me they were a gift in honor of my mother and that was that.

Grandma’s presence in my life was the true gift and I hope I can extend even a fraction of the welcome and hospitality to others that she showed to me.

Anatomy of a bar fight – or why I love my local bar

Posted: October 16, 2011 | Author: | Filed under: Life's Observations | Leave a comment

A few weekends ago, Brian and I were at our favorite local watering hole helping a friend celebrate her birthday when a bar brawl broke out. Okay, maybe “brawl” is a bit of a strong word for what was ultimately the classic battle – two guys fighting over a girl, but a punch did get thrown, a shirt was ripped, and a candle holder was broken. Although it only lasted about 20 seconds, they were exciting seconds nonetheless. For those 20 seconds, all other sound was suspended as the rest of us absorbed just what was happening. After it was all said and done and the extremely drunk instigator was shown the door, then all conversation turned towards what had happened and who had done what during the chaos. Repeatedly, people said “let’s just stop talking about this” only to raise some other viewpoint or retell the showdown mere minutes later. Brian, being ever the risk manager, did not get involved but did rush over to move chairs out of the way to prevent further injury and/or collateral furniture damage. Only his lovable insurance-auditor-Swiss-heritage self would be so methodical in his assistance, but God love ‘im, someone has to think of the bar stools. He did say to me that he pondered for a moment what he might have done if the drunken idiot had been hassling ME. His first thought was that I could pretty much take care of myself and woe to the drunk who thought to try giving me a hard time; his second thought was this guy was way bigger than him and his only hope if push truly came to shove was to just go bezerker and hope for the best. Fortunately for everyone, that was a non issue and the Swiss in him prevailed.

A few other things stood out for me in those crucial seconds. First, a couple of the regulars, larger guys, ran over and restored order by restraining the two brawlers. These regulars kept their cool and their heads and simply stopped the two others from going at it any further. Their presence was a comfort and I regarded them both with renewed esteem. The bartender that night is a young woman who at first glance you might assume was hired for her looks. She’s young, blond, and probably one of the friendliest people you’d ever like to meet.  She is relatively new to the bar-tending scene and also the owner’s daughter. But she really showed her chops when said drunkard thought he wasn’t really quite ready to leave. She looked him in the face, told him to get on out the door, and did not take no for an answer. She did not raise her voice or get excited but somehow he sensed the gravity in her voice and left without further trouble. In that moment she was the drunk-whisperer, which is a gift no bar should be without.

I think the other reason we were all so transfixed by what happened is that these kinds of things simply don’t happen at this particular watering hole. The entire vibe of this place is relaxed and for people enjoying each others company as much as anything. Sure conversations are often animated with the assistance of liquid encouragement, but in the same way you might have intense conversation with friends around the dinner table, which is what Brian and I love about this place. In fact, we generally drink modestly and Brian gets as excited by their homemade ice cream as he does by their Hendricks martinis. It struck me that evening that people who go too far and who cannot hold their liquor are bad for business. No one really wants to spend time with someone who can’t respect the boundaries of common decency or even common sense. I suppose every bar is a little different and there are those places that cater to the Carnival Cruise Line philosophy of the harder the party the better, but just because a place has “bar” in its name doesn’t mean its a place for drinking with wild abandon.

This particular bar is where Brian and I go to see our friends – people we have gotten to know far better than any other business I have ever frequented. We’ve celebrated my 40th birthday there, Brian’s 40th birthday there, our 10th wedding anniversary, and my last day at Cobalt. I have happy hours there with my girlfriends. We have taken any number of family and friends there when they come to visit in the hopes they will see some of the same magic that we do. Sometimes we go for no reason at all. But, it’s not all one way either. We have helped celebrate their birthdays, and watched them perform in shows, even had them over to our home for dinner. My former suburban self never would have even considered being so connected to people that I met “in a bar.” Happily, the Universe felt that was a misconception my life needed correcting. The people here are family.

Last weekend, we were chatting with one of the bartenders who did not happen to be working the night of the big brouhaha. He mentioned that fellow had been trouble before and it was probably only a matter of time before he had to be shown the door. I asked if that guy was “banned for life” and he said he was in his book and he did not have any patience for that kind of behavior in this place. He thought the owner might feel differently as he believed in giving people second chances, but he wasn’t so sure in this case. That comment said so much to me about both their characters and in that moment I loved them both.

If you need me, I’ll be enjoying good drinks, fine food, and laughing with my friends at the bar.

Small goal for a big girl

Posted: October 8, 2011 | Author: | Filed under: Team in Training, Weight Management | Tags: , , , | 1 Comment

I am ardent admirer of my friend Siri’s blog, Minus 40 by 40. She has set a goal to lose 40 pounds by the time she turns 40. And she’s holding herself accountable by publicly sharing the journey and tracking her weight loss. She hasn’t been perfect, but she’s following a sensible plan (Weight Watchers) and she set a goal for herself that is challenging yet realistic and that will put her at a healthy weight. She’s doing all those things that contribute to success, and she’s lost 9.8 pounds so far.  I am both impressed and honestly a little jealous.

I’d like to say this post was a similar announcement that I set some BHAG (Big Hairy Audacious Goal) for myself and we could all watch me transform my life, but sorry to say that is not what’s happening here. I am known for being determined and driven and in former days I even lost 50 pounds following Weight Watchers. However, I am also equally adept at denying and outright ignoring what is right in front of me, and I can rationalize with the best of them. I have set goals for myself and found untold ways to excuse myself from actually fulfilling them. I know about myself that I have to be really REALLY bought in for the big goals to work, and it is easy for me to be depressed and discouraged by setting a goal that is out of reach and therefore giving it up altogether. I need something that is both motivating and real for me where I am in my life right now.

In my daily perusing of the blogosphere on my iPad (hat tip to Steve Jobs, iRIP), I stumbled across something pointing people to register as bone marrow donors. I clicked through and started looking at the medical requirements. I half-hoped that I would be disqualified and guess what, I do not meet the weight criteria to register. I’m officially too fat to be a bone marrow donor. Ouch. I’m not over by much, just about 6 pounds. I sat there and stared at the screen. I will be brutally honest and say I am not totally sure I wanted to sign up for to be a donor, but it’s so much different when you are choosing (or rationalizing why you should or shouldn’t) and having that choice taken away from you. Because of how I have let myself go, this path is closed off to me. I don’t like that feeling – it frankly pisses me off and makes me mad at myself. But I stopped short of hari-kiri and decided that it seems very do-able that I could lose 6 pounds and keep it off in order to qualify. So, here in black and white, is my little goal: I will register as a bone marrow donor before the end of the year. It fits in with my desire to do BETTER (instead of try to be perfect), and maybe I’ll even help someone else along the way (and for a cause I am passionate about – ending Leukemia and Lymphoma), but without requiring that I dive head first into something I know in my heart I’m not ready for yet.  It’s the opposite of a BHAG. I’m calling it a SAG, a small-ass goal. (And yes, I appreciate the double-meaning…)

How will I do it? The classic way – consume less calories than I burn. Which means more mindful eating, healthier eating, and moving more. No drastic dietary or lifestyle changes, but I can walk home from work one more day a week, and drop the desserts one more day a week, or eat one more serving of vegetables a week. I stepped on the scale last Monday (yep, faced that number, and yep, it sucked) and will do a weekly weigh-in, no more, no less, to see how I do. Once I have dropped 6 pounds and kept it off for 3 weeks, I will register and share the news online.

Why such a small goal? Because sometimes growing up, being a “big girl,” means being honest with yourself about your own limitations. It’s a small goal and it fits my current limitations, but is also one that sets me up to succeed, which I hope will lead me to seek other wins and down a healthier path. I think it was best said in that 80’s classic, Better Off Dead, “I think all you need is a small taste of success, and you will find it suits you.”

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