I am a writer. Not that I get paid to do so. But I'm a writer. Obviously, you're reading something I've written right now. Some things I write to share with other people, some things I write just to get it out of my head, and them immediately wish I could burn it...never to think about that thing ever again. Over the years, it's become a comfort to me. And through my writing, I have gotten support, feedback, contradiction and compassion...none of which I would have received had I not written it down.
There are other aspects of my life that seem to be recorded for posterity...or other pursuits as well. I write down what I eat to keep track of calories. I (occasionally) write down how much money I spend to keep track of my budget. But oddly enough, the one thing I haven't done well at is writing down how many miles I ran, rode, or swam.
My Grandma, yes, the crazy Grandma that roller skated down a huge hill, wrote everything down. For years growing up, I was amazed at what she wrote down. Every single day, she would write how many steps she would take, with the goal of being taking a certain number of steps every day for exercise. And I'm not just talking about the times she actually went for a walk, the woman included the steps she took to go to the bathroom, or out to the kitchen. EVERY SINGLE STEP. Beyond her exercise goals, she still wrote everything down. Of course, she and my grandpa came from the era where most of their courtship was handled from letters. Unfortunately, we'll never know her side of the story, because after my grandpa wanted her to throw out his letters, she did the exact opposite. She stashed his letters away, and burned her own. This is one of the most unfortunate things I can imagine, because there was one afternoon growing up that my family sat down (sans grandparents) and read my grandpa's letters. It's the hardest I ever remember laughing. Beyond that, it's the hardest I ever remember my dad laughing growing up (which is saying something if you know my dad). To date, there are still journals of my grandma's that my parents refer back to when the need arises to know when a certain cousin's birthday is, or when some other significant life event happened. Even when they built the house in Florida, my grandma wrote down every single thing they paid for, and how much it cost. Looking back, it may not all be relevant to life today, but, it's still interesting. It's like a history lesson. Ok, it's not like a history lesson. It IS a history lesson.
So...what is my point here? Some would say that I write a lot of stuff about my life down. And I do. But I think I could do better. I'm not about to start recording every single step that I take a day, or writing a daily journal of what I do. But something I have found helpful is to be able to quantify what I have done. Maybe if I had recorded how many laps I had swam last year, I would have been prompted to take action about quantity there before. Or knowing how many miles I've ran to train for a marathon. It doesn't matter if I share it with anyone, but it may actually help to keep track, keep myself accountable for what I do. So I've tried to do...better...this year so far about recording what workouts I've done when. So maybe, by the time September rolls around, and I (keeping all fingers, toes, and all other appendages crossed) cross the finish line at Cedar Point, I'll be able to say...yes, today I crossed 140.6 miles today. But x amount of miles is what the journey really included. Or something prolific like that.
I try not to dwell on the past very often. It happened, it's done. Let's move forward. But my history, history in general is something that we carry with us no matter who we are, or where we go in life. And there is something to be said that we can't really move forward until we know where we've been. To put it another way, I've been down that path before, and it didn't work out so well, so why would I be crazy enough to do it again? So every once in a while, I find it useful to take a look back, see where I've been, where I am now, and reflect on the journey to get from point A to point B. I'm not the same person I was 10 years ago, I'm not even the same person I was a year ago. There are definitely pieces that are much the same, but I've grown a lot. Changed, some might even say. But I do carry those pieces of me moving forward. The written reminder just helps to remember it correctly.
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Salad Stylings
Hello, my name is Johanna, and I hate salad.
If you're trying to eat a healthy diet of food, salad has always been at the top of the list of things to eat. And, of course, doctors have told us for many years that eating a lot of leafy green veggies is one of the keys to a successful healthy lifestyle.
But here's the thing, I really just don't enjoy salad. In all honestly, I probably never have, even way back to when I was a kid. In fact, I remember one meal when I was at some buffet-type restaurant, and I loaded up my plate with a little bit of lettuce, and a lot of toppings. As my dad was going through the line behind me, he even commented that I really wasn't putting a salad together, so much as a mixture of the yummy stuff. (At the time, he probably phrased it quite differently, but the sentiment is still the same.) Even now, I will eat whatever leafy greens make up the actual "salad" portion of the meal, and then leave the toppings for last. It's nice to know that some things never change.
As I mentioned previously, if you're trying to eat healthy (like I do) salads are the staple food. But also, when you happen to be genetically inferior like me (gluten AND dairy free...not just by choice) you are often relegated to the world of salads. For example, last week, I was presenting at a school, and some of the directors wanted it go to lunch together. Not knowing the city we were in, I was at a loss for what to suggest. The executive director took over, and suggested an Italian restaurant. I immediately prayed that actually had salad, because even if the standard salad comes with cheese, it's not a huge deal to request that it not come with cheese.
But are you getting the idea that I'm fun to eat with? Because it's a joy sometimes, and makes me feel ridiculously high maintenance. Perhaps I should just wear a button that says "I'm not really high maintenance, it's just my GI track that is." There have been many meals where I've had to order something like: I'd like a bowl of chili, but no cheese on that, and I'd like the grilled chicken sandwich without the bread. Yes, just give me all the toppings, and the chicken, but not bread. Or when the meal actually comes out: I'm sorry, the description on the menu didn't include that you poured an entire cup of cheese over the spinach, so I would really appreciate (and so would my traveling companions) if you could take that back to the kitchen, not spit in it, and bring it back dairy free. Thanks! Or even: I ordered the naked tenders, not the regular ones, so no, I'm not going to keep the thing that I didn't order, and yes, I'm going to cut your tip because you didn't pay attention to what I ordered, brought me the wrong thing, and then expected me to eat it anyway. :)
So anyway, back to the scary Italian restaurant. They did have salad, they actually had salad that didn't automatically come with cheese on it, thus my looking like an ass hat that doesn't like food was significantly reduced. And I ate the salad. There were even moments that I enjoyed what I was eating. Admittedly, those were the moments when I was eating the toppings, but still...there were a few enjoyable bites in there. And of course, I ate the entire thing because even at 2pm, I was aware that this would be my only chance to eat any amount of food of substance until after 10pm when I would get back home.
I'm sure I can't be the only one out there that doesn't like salad. I've admitted it, it took a long time to do so, but I did it. And I would like to stand up and say that it's ok not to like salad. It doesn't mean that I don't eat healthy. But I'm more likely to eat tomatoes, avocado, bell peppers, and whatever other veggie I'm in the mood for sans lettuce, spinach, arugula or whatever leafy green you might throw my way.
If you're trying to eat a healthy diet of food, salad has always been at the top of the list of things to eat. And, of course, doctors have told us for many years that eating a lot of leafy green veggies is one of the keys to a successful healthy lifestyle.
But here's the thing, I really just don't enjoy salad. In all honestly, I probably never have, even way back to when I was a kid. In fact, I remember one meal when I was at some buffet-type restaurant, and I loaded up my plate with a little bit of lettuce, and a lot of toppings. As my dad was going through the line behind me, he even commented that I really wasn't putting a salad together, so much as a mixture of the yummy stuff. (At the time, he probably phrased it quite differently, but the sentiment is still the same.) Even now, I will eat whatever leafy greens make up the actual "salad" portion of the meal, and then leave the toppings for last. It's nice to know that some things never change.
As I mentioned previously, if you're trying to eat healthy (like I do) salads are the staple food. But also, when you happen to be genetically inferior like me (gluten AND dairy free...not just by choice) you are often relegated to the world of salads. For example, last week, I was presenting at a school, and some of the directors wanted it go to lunch together. Not knowing the city we were in, I was at a loss for what to suggest. The executive director took over, and suggested an Italian restaurant. I immediately prayed that actually had salad, because even if the standard salad comes with cheese, it's not a huge deal to request that it not come with cheese.
But are you getting the idea that I'm fun to eat with? Because it's a joy sometimes, and makes me feel ridiculously high maintenance. Perhaps I should just wear a button that says "I'm not really high maintenance, it's just my GI track that is." There have been many meals where I've had to order something like: I'd like a bowl of chili, but no cheese on that, and I'd like the grilled chicken sandwich without the bread. Yes, just give me all the toppings, and the chicken, but not bread. Or when the meal actually comes out: I'm sorry, the description on the menu didn't include that you poured an entire cup of cheese over the spinach, so I would really appreciate (and so would my traveling companions) if you could take that back to the kitchen, not spit in it, and bring it back dairy free. Thanks! Or even: I ordered the naked tenders, not the regular ones, so no, I'm not going to keep the thing that I didn't order, and yes, I'm going to cut your tip because you didn't pay attention to what I ordered, brought me the wrong thing, and then expected me to eat it anyway. :)
So anyway, back to the scary Italian restaurant. They did have salad, they actually had salad that didn't automatically come with cheese on it, thus my looking like an ass hat that doesn't like food was significantly reduced. And I ate the salad. There were even moments that I enjoyed what I was eating. Admittedly, those were the moments when I was eating the toppings, but still...there were a few enjoyable bites in there. And of course, I ate the entire thing because even at 2pm, I was aware that this would be my only chance to eat any amount of food of substance until after 10pm when I would get back home.
I'm sure I can't be the only one out there that doesn't like salad. I've admitted it, it took a long time to do so, but I did it. And I would like to stand up and say that it's ok not to like salad. It doesn't mean that I don't eat healthy. But I'm more likely to eat tomatoes, avocado, bell peppers, and whatever other veggie I'm in the mood for sans lettuce, spinach, arugula or whatever leafy green you might throw my way.
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