New habits for fall

School started about three weeks ago, and the traffic and parking around Purdue returned to normal. This means driving is like negotiating a pinball machine, with students, faculty, administrators and vendors weaving in and around the hazards. If you want a decent parking place, you'd better be up at an ungodly hour and at your building before it's unlocked. If you're like me, you just park illegally and wait for the meter maid to assess you your fee.

After riding public transportation all around Europe, I decided to try it at home. So I've been riding the bus to work for three weeks. And I love it. It helps me discipline myself to get to work on time, and allows me to peoplewatch on a regular basis. And the best part? The Number 4B drops me in front of my office, and has helped me save more than $30 dollars in gas money. Per week. And did I mention that Purdue employees ride for free? Nothing to scoff at.

So I ride the bus, and watch my neighbors, and find little blessings as I go: the gorgeous, yellow lab service dog whose mistress works on campus; the church friend who chatted to me about her library job; the gentleman who proved chivalry is not dead, helping an older lady exit the bus. It's good to surround myself with the people in my community. I look up, and out, and away from my selfish worries.

Looking ahead

365 days until Erich and Emma's wedding. It's hard to believe that this little boy I carried, nurtured and love is going to begin his own little family soon. I know that the event will be beautiful, and that they will be beautiful as well. I hope that their life together is beautiful and filled with blessings that friends, family and faith can bring.

I'm riding the bus these days -- a nod toward saving money, avoiding traffic and making the world a tiny bit better by conserving energy. It does take a bit of planning, but I'm getting used to that. You can text the bus company for information on the next buses at your stop, so this is a useful tool that I've begun to employ. There's always something interesting to see on the bus: a guide dog, laying quietly beneath her master's feet; children with their parents, taking a trip to the library, the loquacious Purdue freshman chattering on her phone. They polish the wooden seats up on the trolley so much that you're lucky not to slide off when the driver rounds the corner! But it's a good metaphor for life: Sometimes you have to just hang on.

Our Day in Rome

Rome was amazing. In fact, the entire trip was amazing; but I put much effort into the planning of the Rome day, and it turned out much better than I had expected. We were blessed to see such sights as the Spanish Steps, shown here, as well as the Trevi Fountain, the Pantheon, the house where Percy Shelley died, and the charming, cobblestone streets that reminds one of the city's great history.

The Pantheon, left, took my breath away. Commissioned by Marcus Agrippa as a temple to all the gods of Ancient Rome, it was rebuilt by Emperor Hadrian in about 126 AD after a fire. Later, it was given to Pope Boniface IV and turned into a church. It's now officially known as Santa Maria dei Martiri, but everyone understands that its origins lay in the Battle of Actium.

At the peak of the tourist season, the more than 40,000 people visit the Vatican daily. Crowds were certainly our companions as we made our way through the hot, sticky, and exhausting tour. But we were rewarded by tales of those who have lived and worked here throughout the ages, including Michaelangelo, shown left, in Raphael's School of Athens, located in the Room of the Segnatura.

As a cap to the Vatican visit, I stood before Michaelangelo's Pieta, carved when he was merely 24 years old. Mary's face, serene yet full of grief, has no tinge of hopelessness or despair. It is a fitting example to take away from St. Peter's Basilica, where the great work is housed. For me, she was the most beautiful image of the trip, and the most satisfying masterpiece that I have ever seen.

Successes

I've been working hard these past several months, working at staying focused on strength and what it takes to regain it. I'm nearly 20 pounds lighter, thanks to the enormous help of my pals at Club Newtone, where I'm lifting, stepping, spinning and sweating my way toward a healthier me. The struggle with food continues, though. I adore so many artery-clogging, fat-laden, not-good-for-me things. The other night I pounded down copious amounts of bread and cheese, complimented by a crisp glass of Pinot Grigio, and regretted it like a one-night stand in the morning. Ugh. How can food make you feel so filthy?

Mentally, I'm picking myself up more and finding encouragement in the days that I successful navigate office politics, unpleasant comments or just my own tendency to overreact. I am fighting to find a smile that doesn't look plastered on. I'm not sure if I have found a perfect fit yet, one that doesn't draw too tightly across my face and make it difficult for me to project light from my eyes. Insincerity is not a strength. I'm trying to find a way to recast it, mentally, so that I am uplifted by the art of holding my own in a difficult situation.

Nine more days until we leave for our adventure to Barcelona, and Italy, and Malta. The Air Malta pilots are planning to strike the day after we arrive; let's hope they don't move the date up any or we will be stranded! I can't wait to feel the warm Mediterranean sun and walk the streets of Rome. I've been counting down to this for more than a year.

I've arranged a few more countdowns to tide me over when I get back -- countdown to Erich and Emma's visit, and countdown to the wedding. These countdowns are expensive - so I need to get cracking on saving my money. That's a strength, too. I'll be seeking savings, so let me know how you save money when you are planning for something big. We may learn from each other.

Recovery

This long absence was due to a fall, a broken wrist (in three places), and surgery. But I must say that the best part of the past several weeks was the weekend that I traveled to San Diego to see my niece, Megan, my cousin, Janet and my dear friend Evalyn. It so lovely seeing three strong, courageous women whom I admire and love, and to immerse myself in the familiar sights, smells, sounds and tastes of America's Finest City. I feasted on authentic Mexican cuisine, dipped my toes into the Pacific and strolled the trails of Sunset Cliffs Park admiring a sky so blue that I forgot the hue existed. I drove the 8, the 5, the 163, and the 15, understanding as only a Southern Californian can why we insist on placing an article before each freeway moniker. Megan and I pampered ourselves, drank skinny Margaritas and watched the sunset in La Jolla, and she patiently listened to me prattle on about my memories of growing up in this garden of Eden. We deciphered the directions of a "easy to assemble" desk and inhaled thick, sweet guacamole made from Fallbrook avocados, grown plump and silky on gnarled trees.

In Rancho Penasquitos I brunched with my cousin at a restaurant that served killer bloody Marys, and together we eked out every bit of coffee that we could from our harried server. We knew we were sending him into obvious frustration because we refused to eat and run, but could manage only weak apologies as we ordered up our desserts. Afterward, I met up with Evalyn, who reminded me why I loved living there so many years ago - reminded me, too, how we always felt like sisters and still do. I fell in love with a boxer mix named Sasha, and dreamed of returning home each day to a small apartment that smelled of kelp and sunshine and fresh air. The clock ticked, and time was up. And forgetting my vow to return with seashells, I flew home to cold, reluctant, incomprehensible Indiana, and made Rob promise that I would not live here for the rest of my life.

Encouragement

Since March 29 I have been attempting to remain focused on two things: diet and exercise. And since then I have lost more than 8 pounds. This is a real success for me but I could not do it alone. I've had occasional encouragement from many friends and a lot of my family. Thank you all!

Best of all, I am getting stronger. On March 29 I nearly passed out after doing 5 minutes on the stairstepper. Now I've worked my way up to 12 minutes on the stairstepper, 30 minutes on the bike and either 10 minutes on the rowing machine or treadmill. I am also doing strength training two days a week and I am getting significantly more powerful as I lift weights, work on the weight machines or do these horrible exercises called planks which all my fit friends seemed to know about and which I have just learned about.

I am encouraged. If you are reading this, and you face a challenge in your life, you should be encouraged too. If at 50 I can start shedding pounds and adhering to a new routine, anyone can!

Lessons from my windows

A couple of weeks ago I was experiencing computer problems at work. The unit would shut down suddenly, or take forever to respond to the simplest commands. You know the drill. It's as frustrating as listening to a dripping downstairs faucet as the night creeps toward dawn.

The reset button on my computer tends to be my go-to device. Can't get the browser to respond? Hit the reset button. Files running inordinately slow? Hit the reset button. Getting a strange and repetitive error message? I hit the reset button.

But this time, hitting the reset button did nothing. Finally a techhie came in and spent about four hours one morning at my desk, scanning for viruses and looking for major malware infestations. When I came back to my desk in the afternoon, I found him wrapping up the session.

"What was the problem?" I asked him.

He slowly swiveled my chair around and examined me.

"When's the last time you emptied your trash?" he asked me.

I stared at him, stupefied. Because I couldn't remember, I said, "What do you mean?"

"You had 3 gigs of trash in your trashcan," he answered. "It tends to slow things down."

"But what about the viruses? The malware?" I sought to find some respectable reason for having taken up four hours of his time.

"Just trash," he answered. And smiled. And walked off.

Sometimes I feel like I've spent days trying to climb away from or out of the shadow of negativity, often through my own mistakes. Last week was one of those weeks. Nothing seemed to go right at work, and I spent way too much time trying to fix or mitigate problems. In fact, many of the problems seemed to haunt me day in and day out, coming back just when I thought they were gone. I think that for most of us this experience is pretty typical.

Like my computer, I, too, have a reset button. But it fails to work, sometimes, too. But it occurs to me now that in the future, if the reset button fails, I should try emptying the trash. 

This week I've been thinking about a young woman I recently met. She's my middle son's new girlfriend, and I am impressed with his good taste in women. She's just gotten a job at a Fort Wayne media outlet and her enthusiasm for journalism is infectious, while her outlook on life is optimistic and refreshing. One of things I like best about her is that she is unconsciously positive. She laughs easily and appreciates family. Her mom is her self-proclaimed "best friend." What's not to like about such a girl, a girl who peppers her conversations with the phrase "I've been lucky enough to..." ?

"Lucky enough." I've spent some time thinking about that phrase and how it pertains to the life I am living. I'm lucky enough to have a job, a home, three sons I am extraordinarily proud of, and a husband I love. I'm lucky enough to have good health and friends who love me, who hold me up when I need a hand, and who allow me to do the same for them. I'm lucky enough to had enough hardships in my life that I can see what good has come of them. Lucky enough to have faith in someone and something bigger than myself, lucky enough to believe in second chances and new beginnings.

I once heard a sermon in which the pastor explained he preferred to substitute the word "blessed" for lucky. I feel blessed today, blessed that I can agree with that observation, and consider the above paragraph through that perspective. I'm blessed. Thank God, blessed enough.

Thank God it's Monday

Mondays are generally relegated to the trash heap of the week, a leprous kind of day that offers nothing more than a reason to complain. But in the interest of changing old habits, I'm making an effort to view Monday as an opportunity, a launchpad. I've spent too much time looking behind me at weeks gone by. Now is the time to reframe Monday.

For some, Monday is a day of fasting. For others it is the day to commemorate the angels. I like this idea. It allows me to meditate on the impact those who have left this earth but who have made an important impact on my life. Though they are no longer with us, I feel their presence still. And for that I am grateful.

First on this list is my father. He was a kind and generous man, who spent his life supporting and upholding his me emotionally while trying to sent me down a better path than the ones I chose in my youth. My father taught me the value and  importance of family. He had a wicked sense of humor and a willingness to make fun of himself. He had a temper - don't we all? He knew how to apologize, and he was a faithful child of God. How many times did he invite me to study the Bible with him, as an opportunity to get closer to God and to him? Can't even count. How many times did I say, "Yeah, maybe later"  as I ran out the door, or up to my room, or off in another direction? Can't even count. He allowed me my failings and forgave me my frequent meanness and taught me that forgiveness trumps pain every single time. Thanks, Dad.

My sister-in-law Marcia tops the list as well. This flame-haired beauty was a beacon in a cynical world. Hallmarked by kindness, a quick wit, earth-mother wisdom and authenticity, she was a great example to all of us. She never wavered in her fight against cancer, never played the victim, never gave up. She left behind a family forever changed by her grace. We would do well to remember it when times are tough.

Who are the angels in your life? Who will you commemorate with your actions and attitude today? Who will enable you to say, as I do, "Thank God it's Monday" ?


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Worth noting: An interesting read at Health.com today about the scientific link between emotional and physical pain. Seems evidence now shows that the terms "heartache" and "heartbreak" may not be so far off. File it away in "Yeah, I thought so."

New beginnings

Where I have been: Lack of balance has brought me 40 added pounds of weight, a loss of strength throughout my body, and a tendency to focus on the negative rather than the positive. In early 2000, I set and I achieved a goal of cycling my way through a Sonoma County 100K. But I failed in an attempt to cycle 100 miles across the San Joaquin Valley a week later. Instead of focusing on the 50 miles I did ride during that 100 degree day, I slowly turned away from my cycling and away from exercise completely. During the next 10 years, I injured myself,  and discovered arthritis in my foot, a temperamental knee, and a fondness for alcohol. I moved across the country, changed jobs (3 times), and walked through some pretty intense relationship issues. Also during those years, two of my three children grew up and moved out, and a third is poised to do so next fall.

Where I am going: Armed with a new determination to regain the strength and fitness in my early 40s, I began a journey toward emotional health last year. My journey toward physical health began last week when I rejoined my gym and consulted a fitness trainer. In less than 100 days I will walking through Rome with my brother-in-law Keith, his wife Lisa, and my husband, Rob. My goals including losing 10 pounds before then and become physically stronger person. A weigh-in on Friday revealed a three-pound loss - typical in the early days to lose more first, I know. Yet, it is encouraging.

Join me on my journey. As I travel, I'll work on developing new habits while exploring my spiritual and emotional life. Like many of us, I've had a lot of false starts during my life. This time will be different. This time is for real.