The Ponder-osa

Oh, Verdana, you saucy minx! I have not seen your font face is ages. I feel like a schoolboy on Sunday, never wanting to wake from this illustrious experience!

I have been pondering a great many things the past couple days. Friends of mine have brought forth some interesting, suggestive concepts that have truly found themselves embedded into my subconscious. These thoughts are just begging to be explored and mulled over. So without further adieu, I give you...my thoughts! Three of them to be exact!

Accept everyone you meet in life as a teacher.

This idea struck me as a revelation. I feel as if my entire adult life (which, granted, has not been so extensive) I have always viewed toxicity as a negative attribute. Toxic people, for instance, found their way into my heart and had to be quarantined and removed like a life-threatening illness. I cursed their names, swallowed my hurt, and vowed never to return to the place of their remembrance. And then this damn saying came to light and I found myself revisiting the past memories of those I had considered cured from my mind. Two people from my past are at the front of that queue. You know how, say, you have an ex that hurt you so badly, just speaking their name leaves you shaking and resentful? These two people have that very effect on me. Yet, applying the above statement, I've started viewing them with a more forgiving, compassionate attitude. They were teachers. Educators, in fact, who taught me very difficult lessons. I often found myself praying for the Butterfly Effect, wishing I could wipe clean the entire slate that bore their impact on my impressionable, younger self. Now, I find myself realizing that without their influence, I would not have the wisdom to recognize detriment. I would not appreciate the good in people, or the importance of forgiveness. I still taste a little bitterness in my mouth when their names escape my lips, but I am beginning to smile at the better moments of those experiences. And with that realization, that everyone I meet is a teacher, I can embrace new people and experiences with interest and true passion.

Everyone has a word. One word that describes who they are within. What is your word?

PASSION. My word is passion. Or passionate...whichever context is appropriate. Ever since I was a little Sampson, I had this lust for experience. There is a part of me I share very rarely with people who come in to my life...I have a very heightened sense of awareness. You know that feeling of Deja Vu? No, not the grimey, sticky stripper poles of the Vu in the metro, but the actual feeling you've seen or done something before? I have that constantly. On average, about 8-10 times per day. Sometimes the feeling is mere seconds, but sometimes it can last over an hour. I tend to keep that side of me private, because people think it means I'm either crazy or should be able to know lottery numbers. Either way, no go. But that awareness has always driven my passion. If I sense the Dej, as I like to call it, coming on - I have this insatiable lust to want to experience whatever it is I'm about to experience. I want to taste every morsel of whatever is happening to me. I want the moment to resonate in my bones and completely overtake me. I know no other word for that other than passion.

Aside from the Dej, passion finds itself in me at other junctures. For instance, fitness. I am passionate about my body. I am passionate about being the best version of myself I can be. I am also passionate about people. I want to learn what makes us all who we are. I want to know what has happened in people's lives to make them who they are when I first meet them....when I touch them...when I look into their eyes. It's an unquenchable thirst. I ache to connect with people and feel close to people. Perhaps because I never felt close to anyone as a child. Is it the child in me who wants to feel loved, accepted, and important in everyone's lives?

Everyone has an affliction. What's yours?

That's an easy one, but it brings forth a lot of explanation. No worries, I won't go into details...this is the internet, is it not? Can't have all the mystery of Sam out there in the open. I would say my affliction is addiction. My mother and siblings have an addiction to alcohol. Fortunately, they recognize it and have learned to abstain. Alcohol doesn't do it for me. I mean, I enjoy imbibing and having a good time, but it doesn't give me that rush. I just have the addictive personality in other forms. Food, for me, is the worst. Mainly because there is no abstinence when it comes to food. You cannot just say "No, I'm recovering. No food, thank you". Food is a medication, and it triggers those pleasure receptors in my brain to say "HEY YOU! YOU'RE LOVED!" The past three years in which I made such a complete 180 in my life have given me a new body and new lifestyle, but I still battle daily with food. People have a locked liquor cabinet for the alcoholics in their life...I have a locked food cabinet. Jeff keeps all the bingeables in it. It is ridiculous, yes, but it is the only way it works for me. The addictive personality doesn't stop at food...it latches on to passion and hides itself there thinking I won't recognize it. Mountain biking became an addiction...granted, a good one. Actually, I would consider competition the actual addiction. I learned I could compete and the thrill of comparing myself to others triggered those same pleasure spots and I was hooked. There are other little addictions, but like I said...keep the mystery alive, eh!

So that's about it. No more thoughts at the moment. I am sitting here, sipping my chocolate truffle coffee and pondering what my day will bring.

1 Holiday Down...2 to Go!

I am sitting in the warm glow of my fireplace. The drive on my laptop keeps whirring and I am snuggled up in an Afghan (the blanket, not the ethnicity). I am tired, and my stomach is full. I tried not to overeat, but it is Thanksgiving...and I have been hard at it for the past two weeks...and I have a million other excuses. Mainly, I am just lazy and wanted food.

Thanksgiving is hard for me. My mom left the first time at Thanksgiving, and then in a couple days comes their wedding anniversary. I remember my father was broken-hearted and angry, and I was washing dishes from the makeshift meal my Grandmother had prepared to help keep normalcy. (I was the only child left at our house by this time.) In a fit of rage, he yanked off his wedding ring and threw it from the living room. It hit me and I broke a plate. I had never felt so uncared for or invisible.

I know it has been six years, but that scene haunts me come this time of year.

Even sitting here, thinking about it, my eyes well up as if I am slicing into an onion.

Thanksgiving wasn't always so bad. It was my favorite holiday, save for Christmas. So I try to remember those instead. And truth be told, it is nice having my husband's side of the family to take comfort in. And I know I am welcome at my mom and her boyfriend's, but I still feel out of place and it is a little painful. I just wish I had a different defense mechanism than eating. I reach for food when I am sad. And Thanksgiving is like a giant apology for my pain.

But I will hide the scale for a couple days, kick ass on the bike, and eat sensibly. Whatever I put on today will vamoose and then it is just Christmas and New Year's to tackle. New Year's is another one of my favorite holidays. Nothing like the feel of a fresh start.

I am thinking of what I am thankful for. I am thankful for family, even with the past sometimes leaving me feeling confused or sad, they are still in my life and love me (well, minus the whole dead father thang) and my family that I am a part of with Jeff. I am thankful for my husband, because without him, I wouldn't be who I am today. I wouldn't be thinner, I wouldn't be healthy, and I wouldn't be as happy. Even with my quirks, my feelings, and my vices, he loves me and takes me in whatever version of myself I wake up in. I am thankful for my other relationships, with my friends who are practically family. I am thankful for a home, heat, a vehicle, food, and my relatively untouched mind. I am thankful for my gifts of music and creativity in general.

I am thankful for those people in my life who leave me feeling beautiful, who leave me feeling important and inspired.

I am thankful for the people who have taught me lessons, even if they were painful ones.

All in all, I am thankful for the ability to take a breath, and do something with it.

Happy Thanksgiving :)

A Little Tease

So, I started playing with a song. It's completely written and recorded...but now I have the lengthly task of mixing and adjusting and playing to get it right. But, since I hyped how awesome I thought I was last night...I am posting a little teaser. It is two parts of the song just thrown together in an mp3.

https://sites.google.com/site/thesamanthaproject/Teaser.mp3

Thank You Fran Healy!

For signing my guitar and not thinking I'm a stalker! I wrote you a song!

The Letter

http://www.purevolume.com/TheSamanthaProject/albums/Teasers

This song is brand new. It was inspired a little from my parent's divorce, as well as some of the neglect that I'm sure all wives feel sometime or another...We can call it a glorified anthem to the hunting widows? I guess what I am trying to say is don't read too much into it. Music I write is not necessarily drawn from the entirety of my personal life.

Also, this is just a sample from the work I've been doing. You'll notice there isn't bass on the song. You'll also notice the levels are a little funky during the jam-out at the end. Everything will get eventually messed with to perfection. The telephone sounding EQ though throughout the beginning is intentional, though. Just sayin'.

Yay for bad covers!

Shorts on November 10th.

I am sitting on the lavender shag that is my bedroom floor. To my left, my cellphone and the air purifier that quietly hums all night long. To my right - the subwoofer of my bedroom system with a glass of freshly poured shiraz sitting dutifully on top. I can still smell the faint aroma of musk that clings to my skin after a hot, steamy shower. It is just after 7 p.m.

Following one of those frustrating married moments...the kind where you realize your spouse is not on the same wavelength as you that moment...I said "fuck it" to my original plan of getting my workout in at 6:30 p.m. downstairs on the trainer. I asked Jeff if it still felt as warm as it did earlier, and he said, "warmer..."

I hurriedly threw on my Shebeast shorts (that's right, November 10th and I could wear shorts) and my Castelli jersey. I asked Jeff to throw on the lightset on Vajazzle and let me go. He voiced his concern of it being dark, and that I shouldn't go alone. Funny, the old and always scared Sam would have agreed. But I am no longer scared of being alone. In fact, at times, I literally crave it. I used to be terrified of being alone with my thoughts or my feelings. Tonight, all I wanted was to be alone with them. To caress them and remind them how important they are. To love them. So I kissed him lightly on the cheek and said, "If I am not back in an hour, come find me".

There is something entirely erotic and sensual about night riding. Pretty sure my racer and rec rider friends wouldn't admit to it - but hell, I'm Sam. I am pretty vocal...eye cock. It really turns me on to be out there. The dependency on all of my senses is what spurs me.

One stretch of road in particular is the highlight of my training loop. It is a 2 mile stretch of heavily wooded, winding road followed by a lengthily hill climb. I could taste the warmth in the air. It tasted wet like snow should be on the ground, but too warm for it to be winter. I could see the eerie glow of deer hiding in the ditches. Their eyes would catch my light and remind me I am not completely alone. I could hear the roar of distant car engines. No music on a night ride - I have to be completely focused to be safe. You never know what creature or vehicle will sneak up on you. My nose was completely bombarded with scent. The Wisconsin countryside provides a vast array of such smells. Inhaling brought forth memories of being a little girl and hiding from the curfew bell. It smelled like forest and nighttime...like trouble, adventure, and danger. I felt alive and on the prowl. That hill was my prey, and it was mine for the taking. I could feel the subtle vibrations of the uneven asphalt. Sweat was dripping down the sides of my face, crystallizing in a stream of salt. The collar of my jersey felt scratchy. My legs wanted me to stand up and pounce. I never deny my legs the pleasure...

I stood up, cranked as hard as I could, and felt my lungs ache and beg for reprieve. The moment I overcome a hill - be it on the road or a switchback up the mountain - it's like a climax. It is the culmination of every sense meeting with the desire and lust for accomplishment. It is ecstasy.

I may not be the fastest. I may not be the most technical or talented rider. But damn, I feel so aggressive. So passionate. So in love with what riding provides me. It burns calories, frustration, and anxiety.

So with that said...I fully suggest riding at night. Make sure you have a red tail light (especially if you are road riding) and a good helmet and bar light combo. I recommend MagicShines (dealextreme.com) but anything you like will fit the bill. You may not feel the joy as I describe it, but I guarantee you will feel excited and ready to attack. Rowr!

Don't You Call Out My Name....SAAAAAAM!

Feeling nostalgic and bringin' out the oldies!

And hey...what if I released an album under Samantha Draper? Creepy or cool?

Olive Juice...Sanks!

So the sound quality blows....but tough noogies, man. Deal. It's me. And side note - I need a new name. I do not want to release another work of awesomeness under my old stage/maiden name. Think of something clever. I have a couple ideas...but am open to suggestions!

Here's how the new album is shaping up so far:

Make Up My Mind, Wheaton County, Draper, Unwittingly, Modern Severance, Make Up My Mind Redux, Olive Juice (I totally just fell in love with it), Love, The Parting, and Englishmen.

Did you know there's a town of Wheaton in Wisconsin?

Thank God My Hair Hides My Sex Face

Happy Hump Day!

Did you watch the little video? Did ya? I know! As my mother-in-law would say, "Darn, that Sam is good!" It is November 3rd today...and in a little over a month (December 7th) I will have been married three years. It is a strange thought sometimes, especially with this summer being the engagemapolocolypse among my peers...I've been there, done that. I'm past the honeymoon phase, and into the "Seriously, I labeled that basket "JEFF DIRTY STUFF FOR SAM TO WASH" and you still throw your work socks on the damn ground?" phase.

I'm not lying when I say it is wonderful to be stable...I've always dreamt of a husband that took care of me and let me pursue my many passions and helped me become a better person. Jeff has done all of that (and more!) for me, and I will love him every day of my life for it. But sometimes I envy the newly-lovecharged. They all have that look in their eyes that says "I'm about ready to rip your clothes off and take you behind this Taco Bell". Last night, as we were in bed and Jeff was drifting to sleep...he said to me "Did you shower? Because you kind of smell like bonfire" and then he was out. I guess that's what Rolling Rock does. Makes your wife feel smelly and then puts you to sleep. In all actuality, I was once paid for a gig in Rolling Rock. Which blew because I was 20 and the club was aware of it. Oh well, at least my band was happy. I digress...

We do have our moments though, and he can still surprise me and make me feel completely adored and loved and sexy. And sometimes he throws in the British accent to get me all riled up...He can be extremely sexy when he tries. Just want to put that out there so I don't sound like an ungrateful bitch. Hmmm...maybe I should shower?

I am also the proud new owner of about 20 pairs of amazing shoes. We stopped at a good friend of Jeff's from his old work last night...and after a glass of the most delicious Pinot Noir I've tasted, he mentioned his wife who had passed away had all these shoes and accessories he was trying to get rid of. It's another strange feeling...pillaging a dead woman's things. But she had Dior and Nine West and many pairs of cycling kits size medium...what would you do? I said a prayer, and dug in. Jim's such a love. I wish he knew how much we care about him. He's such a guy-guy, and it's tough to know he is still grieving and we can't help him in any other sense than the "Jeremiah Was a Bullfrog" kind. But you do what you can do...and last night, I think he just wanted to see some beautiful things go to a beautiful girl. Me, not Jeff. OHHHH SNAP. See what I do? I make jokes when death is involved because it is my defense mechanism! Thanks dead father!

Today, I plan on finishing a song I began to write yesterday morning. It's being written on the piano, and the chords are a flux between major and minor. It has some chemistry and it reminds me of someone which spurs me to perfect it. I also plan on some trivial housework, a spin session with my imaginary class, and maybe a little raking of the leaves.

Today's mantra: I will see the beauty in things great and small. And I will love like I have never been broken.

I Now Pronounce You Mrs. Breakfast Blend

It's 7:25 AM...Do you know where your Sam is?

She's right here, yo.

Drinking her coffee.

Enthused for the day ahead...see?

So this morning, I married my coffee. It was a beautiful ceremony. I vowed to add some skim milk and a splash of sugar-free syrup, and it vowed to keep me going through thick and thin. A pretty good trade if you ask me. See that giant cup? I love giant coffee cups. Maybe it is due to my addiction to the show F.R.I.E.N.D.S. Anyways, my coffee and I are very happy together. Please send all monetary forms of congratulations to Star Prairie, WI. Thanks.

What a weekend. I don't even remember what we did Friday evening. Saturday was the Elk River Hellside mountain bike race. I always get nervous tummy before races...and Saturday morning was no exception. It reminds me of when I used to have gigs all the time. If I didn't watch Office Space the day of and sing every lyric in the car on the way to the show, my stomach would remind me why those are my cliche-musts and punish me for breaking the rules. Granted, mountain biker stomach is a little more forgiving, but not by much.

Anyways, this race has been a favorite since I rode in the rec women's class last year. This year I jumped to the added distance of Advanced Women...and took 1st place. After the race, I went up to Brendan Moore and told him it was a strange event not being lapped by him out on the course...(For those not in our MTB world, Brendan has fetus-calves and is the fastest rider in Minnesota and took 1st in the points for the national calculations. He's pretty much the best of the best and rides for Trek) I remember when Jeff and I started racing last year, people referred to him as if he was some God on two wheels. So of course, wanting to fit in, we joined in on the hero worship. He is, of course, deserving of a little worship, but Jeff and I have had the pleasure of just shooting the breeze with him and his beautiful wife.

He came up to me after my commercial had aired during the Olympics and struck up a conversation with me. Right afterward, about five different people came up to ask me what the Holy Brendan had said. I wonder if that gets old for him?

Thanks to the Buck Hill race series last year, I learned how to be passed by the fast boys without hindering their race or mine. And I think people like him respect that kind of dedication to the sport; to know the rules and the etiquette and really want to better yourself as a racer. I found men like Brendan and a couple of the other expert/comp guys were FAR nicer to me when I jumped up to Expert than some of the women. I kept hearing things like "She really shouldn't do that" or I even heard "Can't believe they even gave her a license". The real reason I jumped up? Just to see if I could. I made it a personal challenge to train for that level. I'm well aware that I'm not as fast or technical as Rebecca Sauber (who is the prettiest mountain biker on the planet, I swear) but I can honestly I was NEVER dfl...(dead f*cking last as the classy kids say). I am proud to say my cardio is awesome and challenging myself to that level forced me to learn better control and technical skill. I am a much better racer now. So sharing the 1st in Advanced podium spot with Brendan Moore of the maley riders was a proud moment...even if people think it is a race that doesn't matter. It mattered to me!

So that was my Saturday. It was also Jeff's birthday. He turned 29 and spent the night giving me attitude about feeling old and boring. All I wanted to do was give him love and express how blessed I feel to have him as my husband and friend, and instead I got Xbox shoulder and snarky remarks. He can be such a crab sometimes.

Sunday was fun, though. I spent the morning writing music and then we celebrated Jeff's birthday with his parents, brother, and sister-in-law. We also celebrated Halloween with candy :)

Another thing I'd like to ramble aimlessly about is my music. After I lost the weight and settled in to wife/mountain biker life...it took a backseat. People kept ragging on me and telling me what a waste it is for me not to be playing out or buried in the studio. It got really old trying to explain how much happier I was in the new version of me. I just wanted a break from trying to impress people. And I couldn't write a clever lyric if a gun was pointed at me. I was drained.

Now I'm alive creatively again. Granted, some of my inspiration is due to my overactive imagination...but a lot of it is due to the lack of pressure. I feel like I'm safe to write whatever I want. I no longer look at my guitar resentfully. I pick it up and out of nowhere...I have words in my mouth.

So that's where this stuff comes from http://www.purevolume.com/TheSamanthaProject

Modern Severance and the revamp of Make Up My Mind are currently my favorites.

Alright...enough from me. OH I LOST 2 lbs. Okay now that is really it.

Today's mantra? I am going to be the person I want to be today. I am energetic, fit, creative, loving, flirtatious, and kind.

Skinny Bitches and Mad Men

GOOD MORNING!

Getting up at 5:15 in the morning is tough...

especially when you drank too much wine the night before...

But I have some things I would like to share. Since losing a crap ton of weight, many of my friends have asked me for tips, secrets, or just plain encouragement. I cannot express how good this makes me feel. I am not going to lie - I could not have lost the weight without a great support system. My friends of course were wonderful, but the biggest kudos bar in the box goes to my sweetheart, Jeff and his wonderful mother, Marlene. Jeff because DUH he's wonderful and works his butt off so I can have the time to workout and shop for healthy foods and cook healthy meals. He is also wonderful because he loves me and accepts me for the person I am today, while still respecting and loving the person I was back then. Marlene...well, she makes me scarves. 10 lbs. a piece. I really just lost the weight for the scarves.

Anyways, all rambling aside...I wanted to congratulate the friends in my life that have lost weight. My two best friends, Mike and Amy - are both healthier and more toned than they have ever been since I've known them. They are damn sexy if you ask me.

Also, there are about four ladies I know who are constantly working on their bodies. I would name them, but I'm not sure how they would feel knowing I constantly think about them. :-p I hope they know that I am proud of them, and respect all their hard work!

Thinking about this stuff has prompted me to pull out some old photos. Lets compare Sam's. And I apologize in advance for not having a scanner... :)

That picture was taken during homecoming week when I was a queen candidate. Truthfully, I campaigned for the previous 2 years gathering up all of the votes so that I could take on the popular girls and win one for the nerd-team. Then it turned out all of us were the nice ones that got nominated. Anywho...that jacket is a MENS 3XL. I remember when my mom took me to the embroidery shop to get it...I felt so embarrassed and sad that I couldn't even wear the girl's version of the jacket. Fast forward 5 years...

This is my Blue Cross and Blue Shield of Minnesota official warmup jacket. It is a LADIES size Medium. The shorts (compliments of Miss Tara Steele) are also mediums. I love this picture. The medal around my neck is my 3rd place finish in EXPERT at that state race. I feel beautiful and proud.

REWIND!

Let's compare velour outfits here. The one on the left was for picture day. I was so happy because I thought I was adorable. When I got to school that morning, I remember a fellow classmate asking me why I stole a car cover to wrap around my fat. Kids are stupid (car cover, really?) but they are cruel. At least it didn't stop me from thinking I'm adorable! Check out the picture on the right now...Yep...^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ That dress is a personal favorite. It was the first dress I had ever bought that was a size SMALL. From TARGET! Target thinks I'm a small! Yay. Actually, sometimes Target thinks I'm a medium or a large, too...but no need to dwell....SMALL!


I'm not going to bring up the fact that I look like my mother in the picture on the right. OKAY - So! On the left you have my best friend, Michael. Him and I have been friends since high school. My grandma thought we were dating...sorry Grams! Mike likes boys. I didn't know that in high school though...I thought he liked me. Ohh, how many gays I've loved. Finally...my 'dar has improved and I can tell who likes the vajayjay and who does not. Back to topic - Mike and I were both heavy in high school. Maybe that's why we were such good friends...we both felt uncomfortable in our own skin. The picture on the right was taken last year at my other best friend, Amy's birthday shindig. Look how we both are smiling from healthier faces. Healthier minds. Mike was my senior prom date. It was the best prom a girl could ask for...minus the hot and heavy petting everyone else was doing. If anything happens to the love of my life, Jeffreyah, I will marry Mike so he can have health insurance. :)

MOM! ACK! What the hell was the thought process behind this 'do? I love my mom...I do, but man...this is priceless. There isn't even a photo to compare this to now. It's that heinous. Moving on!

Look! Sam on bikes! In the past, my idea of biking was pedaling around on this contraption that left me out of breath and hungry for twinkies! Now I ride a different kind of bike. Still out of breath sometimes, and still hungry for twinkies...sure...but I swear - It's different! Ohh...remember twinkies? Damn. I haven't had one in ages.

Well...there you have it. A little trip into the history of chubby Sam versus lean Sam. I look at these pictures on days when I feel dissatisfied with my current weight or accomplishments. It is hard to be your own biggest cheerleader all of the time. Fortunately for me, I have a bunch of other people telling me I'm beautiful and sexy and gorgeous. That helps. So hey - If you are having one of those days where you feel mopey or fugly, remember how beautiful and sexy and gorgeous you are!

Life is a Daring Adventure or Nothing

This was the title of a friend of mine's blog, and I adored it. So I stole it. Thievery is sometimes acceptable, right?

I am feeling poetic tonight. There are new people in my life that are filling me with all sorts of wonderful feelings. These men and women are reminding me that I am a force of nature. It feels good to be thought of in this way. How could it not?

So I am going to write some poetry...and I have not written like this in ages. Perhaps it's the musical side of me coming out again (as I recently played a gig and now have the bite to play some more).

YOUNG RED WINE

She feels no longer subsequent.
She embraces the brash and is amorous to the brim.
A constant ambush on the senses yet an island in a restless sea.
Rich, mysterious, full-bodied and pleasureful.
She feels the way heaven would feel if poured into a glass.
Drunk on words that linger.
Intoxicated on bliss.


DAYLIGHT

I wake in early hours,
disrupted solitude that leads to wanderlust of the mind.
The stars are brightest when the night is blackest.
It is the kind of beauty you can only stare at for moments before it overwhelms and envelops you.
Then the pink rush of day comes, and reminds you of the truth.
The sun will soon blind me. And I will envy the moon for the company he keeps.


MY SKIN

I am cool to the touch like crisp, fresh linens.
I am silky and smell of lavender.
I glow with anticipation for a weclome interruption.

Life's too Short

This morning, as my Facebook status described, I woke up to the radio. The song "So Into You" came on partway through the last chorus. This song always reminds me of my dad, because it was on one of those best of the 70s compilations that I got from him. In a split moment, I was reminded of those nights when my dad was going through chemo and wasn't able to sleep because he was too jittery. I was going through my night-owl phase - coming creatively alive past 11pm - which worked great for living upstairs in my old house because I could play my guitar as loud as I wanted and he never said a word. Never told me to turn it down. And once in a while, I thanked him by playing something old like that, or Boston, or Foreigner. It will be five years this coming spring that he died. Man, that went by fast.

I went to coffee with a very old friend of mine who was obese just like me as a kid. He was a grade older than I was. We used to spend our weekends making cookie dough and watching movies. He had a cancer scare when he was 17, and the doctors told him to drop the weight or he'd have no chance if it came back. He has lost about 130 lbs. When we were drinking out coffees, we both admitted how unfortunate it was that we waited until now to get healthy. It just feels like life is too short to spend it being big.

I found some pictures yesterday of me circa 2000-2005. When I wore 3XL shirts and size 26-28W pants. I was so sad on the inside. Boys never looked at me in that way. I had no idea how to flirt, as it was never done properly to me. So my attempts at conversation were awkward and probably came off as weird.

Alot of people don't know that Jeff has lost about 50 lbs. He was 205 when I met him. On our first date (Oct. 7th it will be 5 years since we met) - I thought he was heavenly looking and assumed he'd take one look at me and call it a night. He didn't. Flash forward to more than 150 lbs. lost between the both of us...our meals are for the most part planned and nutrient rich. They are healthy, and I would say I really enjoy eating them. But sometimes we reminisce about when we ate whatever we wanted. The plates of fettucine alfredo with bacon crumbles. The pizzas and bottles of wine. Pancakes and omelettes. Mmm. Horrible for you. And yeah, people can say "moderation" all they want - but when you're sitting at the table with that plate in front of you - you're not thinking moderation. You're thinking holy shit this looks amazing! So I sparingly allow those treats in our diets because I have no willpower when it is right there, begging for me! Next Thursday is our first date-aversary and we are going to the restaurant we went to on that night. I am going to have the fettucine alfredo because life is too short to ban things alltogether. But I also know that before and after I will be throwing in extra workouts to negate my decision.

Anyways, that was a side-step away from my initial concept of life is too short to be chubba. There's this rider, Rachael Jensen. She's like the fastest thing on two wheels, and I swear she is destined to be on the cover of Bicycling at some point. She is only 13. When I was 13, I was more concerned with the popular girls not making fun of me for being fat and my sister not joining in on the fun. I couldn't bike, and when I did, the frame flexed so bad I thought it would break. I am so ENVIOUS of Rachael. She is so young, and so fit, and just the NICEST young lady on the planet. I hope she appreciates how healthy and active she is. It prompts me to feel disappointed that I didn't get fit sooner. But then again, no regrets and blah blah blah.

My dad ate fast food everyday. My mom NEVER sent him to work with lunch. I don't know if it just happened that way and then became the norm? Or if it was him saying "this is what I'm having!" I wonder if his diet of McDonalds cuisine everyday led to him getting sicker easier? I wonder if he had healthier meals, if his cholestoral would have been better. If his body would have defended itself better. Hmm.

All I know is I am not going to spend another minute on this planet in fat clothes. I am not going to be one of those moms who can barely bend over to pick up their little one. I know life is too short to cut it shorter by being big.

Attention!

So...this past week I have been seeking attention. I'm not sure why. My attention fixation is not by any means a new thing...but I've been able to tone it back as to appear normal and less annoying in my adulthood. As a wee Sam, I never quite knew how to get the attention I wanted.

I would make awkward jokes to the popular girls, hoping they'd laugh and I'd have prestige. Fail - as I found out when one of them pointed out my jelly sandals and deemed me unfit for friendship. As I got older, I would try and attract boys by being funny (it was pretty much all I had) or by playing guitar. Fail yet again - as I seemed to only attract the gays and then the ones I lured in with guitar only wanted to learn Sweet Home Alabama to impress other girls.

Finally, I grew up. Now when I need attention, I ask for it outright. My friends know this about me, and usually indulge me in my quaint little texts saying "What do you love about me?" Of course, I always pay it forward and tell them why they are special to me. After all, who turns down a chance to hear why they are loved?

But lately, it has been a little overwhelming. I'm not sure if it is because of some underlying issue that has my self-esteem feeling shaky? Or maybe we have been so busy with our new house that we're each guilty of partner neglect? Who knows. All I know is I need to be told I'm loved. I need to hear why I am an important person to someone.

That is how I am feeling tonight. I need love. I need attention. And not in a physical way. Just in an "appreciated" way.

Jeff is outside at the bonfire. I can hear his voice...he must be on the phone. I miss him. I want him to come up, shower, and snuggle.

I got my workout in this evening, and am relaxing by writing my feelings out. I had a very good day...eating-wise. Only had a little chocolate after dinner to satisfy my sweet tooth - otherwise, I was very good. And I stayed active ALL damn day. Mini celebration in honor of me!

Alright, enough rambling. I promise I'll write something of merit tomorrow.

It's Finally Quiet

I had a long written explanation about this weekend.
But really all that needs to be said is...

I miss my dad.
I miss him being a part of family things.
I wish I didn't eat as much this weekend.
My heart is sad for my friend Daniel.
And my friend Kim is on my A list for being a rockstar in the kitchen, and a terrific compadre to have in my life.

I also love my other friends...Mike and Amy - you both mean the world to me and life would not be the same without your presence.

And I have been surrounded by family all weekend, and am so thankful for their help - but also thankful for the quiet.

Props to the Evening!

I wanted to write something less dramatic than my earlier post. After gushing my adorable little soul out about my food issues, I snuggled up in my second bedroom and fell into a deep nappage. Jeff said I could paint the guest bedroom any color, and decorate it any way I wished. So, I painted it a pinkish lilac and made it romantic and snuggly. My old bed from when I had my own apartment is covered in blankets and pillows. It's the kind of room you can lose yourself in. The kind of space you feel safe and lovely in. I slept as it poured outside.

Just an FYI, I've been feeling extraordinarily tired the past two days. It's probably due to my daily training and the off-chance that sometimes I'd rather do other things when I should be sleeping...hehe...eye cock!(Eye cock is my new referencing term to that expression you make when you're being clever) So I awoke from my slumber to some chores I wanted to finish. My mother-in-law called to yack...something I have grown to appreciate more and more as my relationship with her son grows. I am blessed to have a great relationship with her. Many wives are not so lucky.

Then out of nowhere, I heard a car come up the drive. I knew it was either the propane man (a.k.a. the guy who calls me Sexy Trouble) or the husband man (the one who knows I am sexy trouble!). Much to my surprise, it was Jeff. He had come home nearly 40 minutes earlier than usual. I had emailed him before said nappage, and told him he needed to help me be good tonight. Meaning tight on calories, and making time for a sweaty workout. He walked through the door - kissed me in that way that only he can - and told me he made me a present.

In the spring, Jeff had bought a cycle-ops trainer for super cheap because it was broken. Then he lost his job, etc...and we forgot all about it. Today he made the piece that was broken (with permission from his boss, of course!) and came home early to set everything up. He even hooked up our big projector, and told me to pick a chick flick and have at it. I am so happy he understands me. He knows exactly what I need...but then again, I also learned from experience he only knows these things because I tell him straight out! We make quite the team!

So, thanks to a wonderful husband, and the return of my motivation and ambition - my caloric intake was PERFECT and I burned 600 calories and threw in an extra weight-lifting session.

Mini-celebration in honor of Sam. I would also like to say a big thank you to Sue, Desta, and Dina, and Andrea - four women who wrote me with four completely different yet equally supportive messages after my last post. Women like you help women like me grow stronger and feel more stable. You rock.

Binge

I just had to stop myself from a full-on binge eating episode. It prompted me to turn on my laptop, and start writing this. Not very many people know about my addiction to food. Sure, people know I've struggled with my weight all my life and blah blah blah. But I think everyone assumes now that I'm down 100 lbs., everything is all good. It's not true. I'm not all good. Somtimes I feel worse.

Blame is a hard thing to do when you're old enough to realize you shouldn't blame anyone but yourself. But I am certain my initial food rewiring came when I was younger. My mom would use food as a reward. Going to the doctor? Trip to Dairy Queen! Just had a cavaty filled at the dentist? Going to Perkins for pancakes! I loved my mother so much in those moments. She knew food made it okay. Until food made me NOT okay. "Samantha, do you want to grow up and be a cow all your life" she would scream at me when she caught me in the fridge. Once, she caught me consoling myself with a bowl of ice cream, and she ran after me yelling the same sentiments. I threw the ice cream down the staircase leading to our lakeshore. She saw me do it, and I was so scared that I hid for hours. She terrified me. And since then, I have never been able to treat food the way a normal person can. Infact, I find myself crying over that memory, and it's nearly 15 years later. My friends think that story is funny...truth be told, it breaks my heart.

I have gotten smarter though...I don't allow triggers in the house. Triggers like ice cream, lots of cereal, breads, cookies...etc. I try to keep binge-friendly foods within eyesight. I can have strawberries, blueberries, vegetables...But lately with the move, people have been giving us food to "stock our shelves with". Suddenly there are boxes of cereals. There are loaves of bread. I find it so hard to be rude and decline such gifts, but damnit it makes life so difficult! I've put on 5 lbs. in the past couple of days because I'm eating foods in quantities that are harmful to me! PLEASE PEOPLE! Help me!

I was fine for breakfast. Just had my hot oats and a perfect calorie intake.
But lunch was the problem. See, when a binge happens...at least for me...I almost zone out. It's like I am not aware I'm doing it. My emotions take over and tell me the food will make me happier. The food will give me pleasure. I started lunch out fine. I made this tofu dish that probably only had about 300 calories in it. The problem was I saw bread in the fridge. The two ends of a loaf just sitting there. So I toasted them up, and put my fake low-cal butter on it. It tasted like love and warm puppies, and BAM - an hour later I was surrounded with evidence of a binge.

Following the tofu and two slices of bread with fake butter...I ate a bowl of cheerios with cut-up banana. Two slices of my low-calorie less tasty flat bread with fake butter. Two granola thins. A couple handful of dried cranberries. A low-calorie granola bar. I'm sure I had some cheese, too...as the bag looked a low in contents. In the blink of an eye, I ate nearly 800 extra calories that I DID NOT NEED. And it's raining and icky out, so I have no chance of burning it off with a bike ride. So, I don't know what I'm going to do...run in place for the next four hours until Jeff gets home? Eeck.

I know some of you are probably thinking I need help. Maybe some of you are thinking there are worse problems in the world to worry about (I know there are). But to me, this is serious. I need support. I need my family to STOP bringing me food that I do not allow! I need to stop treating food as a bandage for when I'm hurt, lonely, cranky, tired, bored...etc.

Maybe I should talk to someone about it...but I keep thinking I can shake this on my own. If I just avoid my triggers, I'll be fine. But every day, I am plagued with the terrifying fear of gaining weight back. I know I'm fit, and I know I am far more healthy and attractive than I have ever been. But I'm so confused on how to treat food. I know the answers on paper, yet when it comes to real life, the 8 year old in me takes over. I'm hoping writing about it will help me find a healthierT output for my emotions. Today is not shot. I will work out and try to burn as much as I can off. And tomorrow, I will make healthier choices. Tomorrow will be a better day.

Goodmorning, starshine!

Does anyone remember that song? When I was younger, it was constantly being played in infomercials for CD compilations. On beautiful sunny mornings, I always think of it...

Most of you know that I have an official blog for Blue Cross and Blue Shield of Minnesota's Do! Campaign. I thought I should start my own on the side, since sometimes my thoughts are non-fitness related (who would have thought!) and I feel more comfortable sharing them in this sort of atmosphere.

Well, save for changing my license and registration over, I am officially a resident of Wisconsin. This place we now call home is so interesting. I thought being "out in the country" would be more like when we visit Jeff's parents outside of Eau Claire, WI. The drinks would be cheap, and the folks would be excited to see us. Not exactly. On more than one occasion, I've been asked "Why you talk so smart?" or "why do you call it Vodka Soda? It's not made with pop or anythin?". For the first time since I was a little girl, I almost feel like an outsider because of my intelligence. I can't tell if they are laughing with me, or at me.

Growing up in the north metro, I always felt like I was in the country. I mean, raised on the lake 7 miles out of town? Clearly country! Getting excited about going to the big city? Country!

After I moved to Minneapolis, I finally felt like my character was evolving. Not only was I transforming on the outside (losing the weight, converting to contacts, going back to my natural-ish haircolor of blonde)...but my eloquence was emerging again. I blamed my nature as the catalyst for my outcasting as a child. Sure, obesity was a hoot and added to the struggle, but children don't necessarily appreciate an extensive vocabulary and witty strength in discourse. Being in the city and growing up, I finally was able to let all that cleverness out.

Now, being here...where I'm not supposed to travel north of Hwy 8 because of the VERY REAL existence of inbreeding...I feel like I'm out of place. I feel like I don't belong. On my training rides, people shake their heads at me, almost to say, "You know, they make cars so you don't have to bike". Our neighbors seem to hide in their houses to avoid meeting us. My only friend right now is Tootcat (he smells as his name implies). He seems so happy to see me, so grateful to hear my voice.

Jeff's been pretty great. I admire how he has taken so strongly to his job. I've met some of his coworkers, and they seem to really respect him. But we have both felt the awkwardness of being in an unfamiliar place. Sure, I no longer need the GPS to get to Minnesota, but I almost need a GPS to navigate the social waters of this foreign land.

Oh well. My friend Jessica assures me I'll get my niche and feel at home soon. The problem is, when I'm at our home, I feel on top of the world. Safe. Wonderful. It's passing the driveway that seems to change everything. Boo.