Little by Little

When I left the gym the other day, the owner asked me if I was losing weight. I said I didn't know because my scale is broken. He said, "Well, it looks like you've lost an inch or two."

That was the right thing to say to me that day. I've been fighting discouragement with exercising, but have in fact noticed that I am a tad smaller also. I feel a little stronger too. I laughed at myself because I was flexing in the bathroom. No muscles popping up on my biceps yet, but I feel better. My muscles are very sore, and it's hard to stretch them out. A therapeutic massage on Friday worked for a little while, but that night, I was sore all over again. My knees have been crying, but I just keep moving them, go to the chiropractor, take pain relievers when necessary, and use BioFreeze now and then. I know that when I build up the muscles that support them, they will get to spell "r-e-l-i-e-f".

I'm better today, but feel guilty that I didn't get a walk in. I took yesterday off because my knees were sore and I was tired. I'll make up for it tomorrow. I am very aware of making sure I at least exercise five to six days out of seven. So far, I have been successful. And, I am eating very well.  I plan to renew my training sessions, and actually like going. This is a huge milestone overcome. I feel proud of myself tonight.

A Date With My Husband

Not actually taken on this date.

At my last chorus rehearsal, I found out that Melissa, the pianist who accompanies our group, also works for Opera Providence. She was performing at the Blithewold Mansion in Bristol, RI this past weekend. I suggested it might be a fun way to spend Sunday afternoon, so Larry secured two of the last four seats available. What a great day!

After spending the morning in Providence with my youngest sister, Colleen, watching her youngest daughter, Kelly, perform at a very impressive cheerleading competition at the Convention Center, I got home in time to change into something a little fancy, and head to Bristol with Larry. Neither of us had ever been to the Blithewold Mansion, but it has been on our "list". Checking it off that list, along with getting my very first opera experience, was really exciting.

Before the "Three Tenors" concert, we were treated to fancy cookies and beverages of our choice. We had champagne, because how fun is that! I've never had champagne on a Sunday afternoon, schmoozing with the Providence opera crowd in a lovely historic dining room. We strolled through the rose garden, laying dormant until it comes to life in spring, on our way to the house. I can't wait to go back and see the grounds in full bloom. We were formally greeted by very friendly women, who took my coat and guided us to the dining room, assuring us we'd be informed when the concert started.

The dining room was just lovely with a gorgeous view of Narragansett Bay. This was a summer cottage, as are all the mansions here and in Newport of the state's historic "rich and famous". It is very small compared to those on Bellevue Avenue in Newport, but stunning all the same. The dining rooms' walls were covered in intricately carved wood. Larry thinks it was walnut. The dining table was in the center of the room, set with gorgeous, flowered dishes and matching serving pieces. Each place-setting had a pretty little green-glass wine glass with polished silver cutlery. And, every setting was laid on a lovely cream-colored antique lace placemat with matching napkin. There was a beautiful built-in hutch, and other pretty wood furniture pieces in the room. The plate shelf near the cream-colored ornate ceiling was lined with a beautiful blue-flowered ceramic vase and dish collection. In one corner, was a glass-front hutch with another collection of dishes and glasses; some labeled as brands from England. There was also a lovely fireplace on one wall with an old painting of a woman over it, that looked built-in as well. The painting's colors were dark, and Larry commented that it probably needed cleaning. It was a lovely room with window seats on either end, and the people there were very nice.

When the concert was ready to begin, we were ushered into the living room at the opposite end of the house. It was an all-cream-colored room (walls and ceiling; window treatments and fireplace), with wood furniture, adornments, including an old sailing ship on top of one cabinet, and a gold-framed mirror over the fireplace mantle. There were about eighty chairs set up "audience-style" in front of a wall of windows on two sides: one faced the Bay; the other a covered patio. There were large stone patios on two sides of the house we saw through the windows. On the way to the living room, we passed a billiard room, that was dark and manly-looking, with another model of an old sailing ship owned by Augustus Van Wickle, the original owner. On the other side of the hallway, was a very small "telephone" room. After watching the PBS show, Downton Abbey, and seeing their first experience with telephones, I was charmed to view an actual room just for using this technological wonder-of-the-day.

The tenors' voices were marvelous. My favorite tenor was Giovanni Formisano. His voice was very strong and he was very Italian. Bellisimo! We also enjoyed Ethan Bremner, who gave me my first "Pretty Woman" experience. Remember that scene in the movie, when Julie Roberts' character was dressed in that tight red gown with that gorgeous ruby necklace and sat in the opera-house box? The song that was sung, made her gasp and choke and cry with its beauty. I recognized this song as the last one of the program, sung by all three tenors: "Nessun dorma" from Turandot (music by Giacomo Puccini). Well, Mr. Bremner made me choke and cry with his rendition of "Amor ti vieta" from Fedora (music by Umperto Giordano). I couldn't believe it. It was pure magic. I felt like "Pretty Woman" in that moment, and jumped to applause when he was done, yelling, "Bravo!" I felt like I was in a movie.

Most of the concert, I just closed my eyes and drank in the music. Melissa's performance was magnificent. The music she played was so hard! I watched her hands and her perfect posture at the old, tinny-sounding piano, and was in awe of her talent. I can't wait to see her at chorus on Thursday night and tell her. Larry and I both left there feeling a new urge to experience opera, and look forward to attending the  next Opera Providence concert. The next one will feature the music of Gilbert and Sullivan; Larry's favorite.

Sunset on the Bay painted a gorgeous red and orange sky at the end of the concert, and the entire afternoon was the perfect date. But our date wasn't over yet, because we had a delicious dinner at a restaurant we haven't experienced yet: Le Central. The local oysters were delicious. We enjoyed a lovely Barroso shiraz bottle of wine. He had pork ossobucco, and I had the lightest fried hake I've ever eaten. All the vegetables were perfectly cooked, and it was one of the most flavorful, delicious meals we've eaten so far. The restaurant's ambiance was quiet and we left with a huge smile on our stuffed faces.

It was by far the nicest date we've had in a very long time.

Out with the old...

Breaking old patterns is hard. Learning new lifestyle behaviours and sticking to them is harder. Nothing is impossible, but that "ole stinkin' thinkin'" is very powerful. So is guilt. I was raised Catholic, so guilt has a strong hold on me. I fight it every day, but that string hangs tough to my psyche. It goes way back.

I have been working hard to exercise most every day, and I eat healthily much of the time. But, my addiction is sugar and chocolate. It IS an addiction. My sister says, "Just stop it!" "Yeah, yeah, yeah", I say. "I know you're right." But, I have to choose in the moment my addiction kicks in. I choose. Not her. Not anyone else. Me. This past weekend I chose my addiction over fruit every time I wanted "something". It ain't easy.

Guilt makes me feel like such a whimp. My sister is fighting cancer for God's sake. If she can do that, I certainly can choose fruit instead of 60% dark chocolate chips on my fat-free vanilla frozen yogurt. One scoop with a few chips would be better than three with lots of chips, that's for sure. But, maybe for right now, I should just forgo the latter all together, and choose the ever-darkening pear sitting in my fruit bowl instead. I can't eat just one chip. Some days, like these days, it is just too hard. Others are much easier. Just not today.

So, learning from my Al-Anon classes, I must choose differently. It isn't so bad. Fruit is healthy, right? And, it tastes good. I know it ain't chocolate, but what is? For now, I will choose the fruit. I will "Just do it!" Thanks, Sistah. I'm off for my walk now.

The First Snow

I know that places north of us got a lot of snow in October, but we only got rain. On the way home from chorus last night, the flakes started falling. This morning there was a coating of icy snow everywhere. After my chiropractor appointment this morning, I rode around Westport, MA on my way home and realized the inland towns got a few more inches of snow than we did. Either way, it is a beautiful winter day in the south coast.

I had an urge to go walking in the snow and cold today. I had the foresight to bring my little camera with me, and once again, thought of my sister, Jeanne, recuperating from her chemo treatment on Wednesday. I decided to take her with me again for a stroll through the snowy woods along the sea marshy coastline. I ride by this wildlife refuge a lot, and always say, "I'll walk through there some day." I decided twenty-nine degrees isn't so bad for a healthy walk outside. I was bundled up enough to handle it. What a blessing! I'm so happy I went.

Walking along the snowy paths, I was struck by how the light caught ice draped on branches, making them look bejeweled. They sparkled and shimmered in the silence of wind murmurs permeating the crisp air. My face felt very cold, so I pulled my hood up over my hat and covered my chin with my scarf. It was just enough to feel comfortable. Each time I took my hands out to take a picture, they got really cold. At one point, I had to keep them in my pockets even though I had warm enough gloves on to protect them.

There were several marked and color-coded paths to choose from: white, yellow, blue, red and orange. The last one is the only one I did not explore. Each one was fairly short, but meandered through the forest. Several of the earlier paths opened out onto the sea marsh. The blue path brought me to a marsh I see whenever I drive along Seapowet Avenue, and the crunching of my boots on the snow scared a beautiful white egret from its foraging haven. It flew out of the marsh and circled around the pond before I could get my camera out of my pocket and snap a shot. I decided this lovely image was just meant for me, so I savored the moment.

At the end of the yellow path, that skirted the backyards of a couple of lovely houses, was another view of the marsh. This time, though, the Sakonnet River was beyond it in the distance. The light was so lovely this morning. I was so happy to be out. At one point, I took a picture with my cell phone and sent it to Jeanne, so I could not only report my walk to my mentor, but share the moment with her first-hand.

There were lots of little birds in the dense brush flitting about, and I didn't spy any other critters. But I did find an adorable set of tracks in the snow. I just had to capture them. Perhaps a racoon? I have no way of knowing. But, it felt very special to share the path with one of the refuge's furry residents.

At the foot of a bridge that crossed a small stream, I caught the sound of trickling. I just stood on the foot and listened. Trickling water and wind moving through the trees was all I heard. There were not even any bird sounds; just silence and peace. I stretched my arms out to either side with my eyes closed and just breathed it all in. The smell of low tide was so clean and filled me up. It was just magic.

On the way home I stopped to visit my horse friends once again. They seemed happy to see me.

"If you don't give your heart wings, you'll never fly."

This past weekend was very, very busy. We spent Friday through Sunday with family, but I think I overdid it. We don't usually fill our weekends like this, and probably will try not to do it again anytime soon. By Sunday night, I was exhausted. On Monday, I felt nauseous and headachy, and yes, a little depressed. I rescheduled my training workout until Tuesday, and spent the day napping and cleaning my house. By the time I was done, I felt better that the house was finally clean, but that old "stinkin' thinkin'" crept right back into my head, and I felt weighted down with sadness.

My son's heart is broken because his second baby boy who died mysteriously in-utero was to be born last Friday. He is so angry and sad. Two of my sisters are seriously ill and a sister-in-law "once removed" is back in the hospital. I talked with a friend in South Carolina, and ended that talk feeling like I let her down by telling her we wouldn't be back until May. The clouds just kept filling my head, and I started justifying "bagging" the classes I had just joined so happily the week before. By Tuesday, an hour before I was to meet Eric for another training session, I was in full excuse-mode; trying to find a reason to call and cancel again. I felt so sad, depressed and heavy. Then, a voice broke through in my head, that pushed the others away and yelled, "Shut up and just go! Shut up and go!" So I went.

While I lifted weights over my head, looking at myself in the mirror, I felt so much better. I confessed my transgressions to Eric and told him how happy I was to be there. "It's hard to get out sometimes," he said, "but once you do, you're glad you did!" I have heard this many times, and it is so true. My body was sore last night and I came home tired.

But today, I am lighter. I went for a four-mile walk and texted my sister, Jeanne, that I was going and taking her with me. "Can you feel the sun on your face?" I texted to her. She was sitting in an oncology office getting her second R-CHOP chemotherapy treatment. As I walked, I imagined her next to me pushing me on. It was the music that drove me forward. I "put my hands up, put my hands up" over and over again, pumping my hips from side to side as I did; watching my shadow move on the road and laughing to myself. I sang out loud and laughed some more.

I greeted my friends, the horses, on my way. My good friend, came and licked my palm as I snapped his portrait and laughed again. I saw a cloud in the sky that looked like me running with my two pups running behind me. I laughed some more. I felt  free, light, strong and happy. It is a good day, and I feel totally different than I did when yesterday began.

This process of getting healthy and strong is a long road. But the road is worth travelling, as long as you have good music and the love of a supportive sister. All of these things let laughter fill my heart and make me wanna put my hands up! J Lo is one woman who makes my walks a dance fest. Enjoy!

"Who's that pretty girl in the mirror there?"

Today was my third session with Eric, the personal trainer. My body has been feeling a little sore, but not anything I can't stretch out. After today, I may be hurting a little bit more. He added more weight and reps to my sessions, and always asks, "How does that feel?" It feels great.

I look in the mirror, and I feel strong. I ignore the roll around my middle and the flab hanging under my triceps. Instead I focus on my  little bulging biceps that I see as being solid; making my arms so much more useful. That they aren't there yet is irrelevant at this point. That I can visualize how they can look, is. I'm not looking for bulging muscles by any means. I just want to be toned, and stronger.  I want to reduce that hanging flab under my arms, so that in the warm weather when I prop my elbow on the passenger side window of our truck, I won't have to look in the side mirror anymore and say, "Who's old-lady arm is that? Not mine. It can't be." But it is.

When I sat on the machines that tone the inside and outside of my thighs, I remembered how that bulge just below my hip on my upper outside thigh was less after four years working out at Curves. I visualized those bumps being gone and a smoother line from my hip down my outside thigh. I also imagined my entire leg being more toned, so that my knees fit together more closely when I put my feet together. My whole life I had skinny legs. I don't even recognize my legs anymore. When Eric added ten more pounds, I felt good about it. I forgot how much I like feeling stronger. It was a huge confidence boost.

When I was making appointments with Eric for next week's workouts, I mentioned that I wanted to try to get Larry to join me in Tai Chi next Monday morning. The owner of the place, Steve, immediately told me that a Tai Chi class was just starting next door. That he provided that class, and I could just drop in and see if I liked it. The woman he was working with affirmed that Paul, the instructor, was great and I wouldn't regret going. So I did. It was wonderful. I got stretched out, calmed down, learned that I have a "natural stance" which really boosted my ego, and I met a few very nice people. I signed up for ten classes.

After a difficult couple of years, I am once again thinking about how hard my body works for me, and beginning to treat it with the respect it deserves. By respecting my body, instead of abusing it, I am also showing more respect for my Self. I do not respect myself as much as I respect other people. I do not treat myself honorably. I can be my own worst enemy. For once, I am becoming my own best friend. I am honoring who I truly am inside, by working on the outside. I am making a shift in my mind to change my lifestyle just enough to feel good about myself. I am not a purist by any means. I like my wine and martinis, and can't live without chocolate. But, I am learning to control the portions I eat and drink. Like everything else in my life, this control is also a process. I get that...finally.

And, not only do I acknowledge that I get it; I am finally acting on it. I am investing in it. I feel a little guilty about the money I am spending all at once on my trainer, the Tai Chi class, the chakra class and all my alternative medicine people that aren't covered by insurance. But, I said a prayer on the way out of Four Corners Fitness this morning: "Dear God, please send me all the money I need to do the things that will make me healthy and happy. Amen." I have proven to myself over time, that if I just believe I will get what I need, I will. And, I have. I just believe it and dive in.

Flapping and Circling

The other morning while enjoying coffee with my husband, I watched a seagull circling the river in front of our house and flapping as if its life depended on it: flapping and circling; flapping and circling several times until it headed down river. Most times the sea birds and hawks just coast on the winds without a care in the world. At least that's how they make me feel when I watch them. They just gracefully soar hither and thither; so gently and easily. I watched the tips of a hawk's wings that look like spread-out yoga fingers; moving one then another to maneuver in the breeze, changing direction ever so slightly. Watching the birds here by the water is so calming and relaxing for the most part.

But, the other morning when I watched the gull flapping and circling, it reminded me of my life right now while I explore what retirement means to me. Instead of gently gliding on the breeze and just "being", I feel like I'm flapping my virtual wings for all I'm worth while circling the options laid out below and in front of me. What should I be doing in retirement? Does it really matter? When I left work, I said I was going to write and publish a book. I asked for self-publishing software for my computer as a parting gift. Part of the reason I avoid going back to visit my old colleagues is to avoid the question, "So, did you publish that book?" Blogging seems to satisfy my need to be published right now. And, it satisfies my need for immediate gratification. I can't deal with rejection, so my blogs also help me feel successful.

My life really is idyllic, but I still have a nagging voice inside that says I'm not being productive enough. I need more stimulation. I'm bored with sitting around doing whatever I feel like in the moment. Really? Some of my sisters would tell me I'm spoiled. Well, maybe I am. But what does that have to do with the fact that my life choices thus far brought me to this place. It's a great place to be. A dream come true. What do I have to complain about then; spoiled brat that I am? I found myself saying to my husband recently, "I used to be this really big person; out there and living large. Now, I've shrunk down to someone I don't recognize." Could this feeling be merely a self-perception, or driven by outside influences and expectations? I'm not really sure.

I do realize, though, that I truly need a bit more stimulation, so I will explore singing in the community chorus. I negotiated with Larry to shift our schedule in order for me to explore engaging in music. And I enrolled in a course studying my throat chakra: "Speaking your truth with responsibility and compassion" is the title of the workshop. It will incorporate meditation, visualization, movement and creating artwork. I haven't taken a course like this in a long time, and I also see it as a way to meet like-minded "new agey" spiritual women in town. The music will also hopefully get me to take the cover off my keyboard and learn to play it once and for all. So, instead of beating myself up, acupuncture is helping calm my anxiety and allowing me to pursue other goals I set for myself in retirement. I am creating my support network, and am getting ready to head down river into an interesting creative new adventure. Isn't that what retirement is all about?