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.