Lifehack: Keep Your Hat On!

This morning I went for a run in the rain. I decided it would be a capital idea to wear a hat with bill (baseball cap style, but mine is actually a Minnesota Public Radio painters cap) in order to retain visibility.

Wind very much likes to knock hats off my head. I have discovered a way to keep this from happening! All you need to do is cannibalize a tee shirt. Simply cut the sleeve off of a short sleeve tee shirt, then put it on your head. I find putting the sleeve over my head and around my neck, then pulling it up to ensure that all my hair is inside is the best method. Then add your hat.

The sleeve I wore today, is a green sleeve. Since I don't run to music, I was humming Greensleeves a bit during my run. Yeah... I'm a dork.

Please be aware that this isn't all that pretty, but when you're out running it isn't exactly a fashion show, so there!

Fun

"You must have faith in the creative spirit for it is creativity that gets things created." - Mike Jittlov

What is creativity? How do you measure it? How do you validate it? Can it only be validated by having an audience? Audience of how many? Millions? Ten? One? None? Is it valid just on the virtue of it's very existence even if only observed by it's originator?

I have a deep personal need to be creative, but I have historically not been sure how to go about expressing it because I have spent a lot of my adult life psychologically in "survival mode." This is a mode which is rather conducive to writing depressing broody moody poetry, but not a whole lot else. I have difficulty believing that the only possible catalyst for creative force is pain. That is not to say that being creative isn't a grand therapy (perhaps the best therapy) for dealing with pain, but I would prefer to experience the channeling of joy into creative work.

I have a fairly sizeable body of poetic works which have no relevance to who I am today. I have often written poetry when I have been sad or depressed. Some of my poetry is a bit sick and wrong.

I have written a few songs which are fading into the past of who I once was... but I can still play them, and I honestly still like them. When I was a kid, I wanted to be a rock star when I grew up. Learned guitar at 27, started writing songs shortly thereafter, got happy, wound up feeling uninspired. Haven't picked up my guitar in at least a year.

I have, however, spent the past 13 months effectively re-creating myself. That has, in and of itself, been a creative project, and it will always be a creative project. I hope always to be aspiring and challenging myself because that is where the living happens.

I've reevaluated a writing project that I started a while back (a novel). It's not back to life yet, may never be completed, but I'm thinking about it again and have done some massive revisions already.

I'm considering taking one of the various Improv classes that is offered in my area. That could be fun...

...and that's really it, you see. Creativity is bringing something new into the universe. It's valid whether you like it or not, whether it's a multimillion dollar blockbuster movie or something you're afraid to show anyone. Most importantly (at least for me in my life right now) is that is must be fun.

About Self Worth

I have had two people hesitate on complimenting me on my weight loss because they considered the possibility that I might have been ill. I haven't been ill, I've just been working my tail off.

98 pounds, 8 pounds to goal. It's quite an accomplishment, and it really has been worth it for me. If I compile a list of reasons why it has been worth it and why I will continue to maintain this lifestyle, there is one reason that is noticeably absent. I have noticed that when many folks lose drastic amounts of weight, one of the goals is to "feel better about myself" or "so that I can feel lovable." My opinion is that if those are reasons to lose weight, you're doing it backwards. You were already lovable, and fat self loathing is no different from skinny self loathing. I would rather hang out with a plus size person who owns themselves when they self-confidently walk into a room, with no apologies for who they are, and enough self love to spare than someone who is slim and is constantly complaining about how worthless they are.

Sometimes I see people who have lost a lot of weight start judging people who are not like them (or who are like they once were). Depending on the context, this either infuriates or saddens me.

So if you haven't heard it before, I'm saying it now. You are a human being. You are lovable. Whether you are fat or skinny, tall or short, have an extra limb or have burn scars all over your body... Whether someone decided it would be appropriate to mistreat you or you had the ideal perfect childhood... whatever your race or culture or religion or primary language... whether you are straight, gay, bisexual, androgynous, or were born into a body of the wrong gender...You are lovable and are entitled to feelings of self-worth. Once you can find and keep that self worth, THEN *if* you are interested in making changes to yourself, it will come from a place of unconditional self-love, as opposed to a place of "if I can only do this, then maybe I'll be OK."

As for the reasons why losing weight has been worth it for me... the top of the list is just being able to do stuff. I like to do stuff. Lots of stuff. New stuff! I like the feeling when I'm running or swimming or rock climbing or canoeing or hiking or walking, because it feels like I'm nurturing myself - it's an experience I can get lost in, in a good way. I also like the fact that I can buy knee socks off the rack.

I Really Have Moved On

From Fall of 1988 through Spring of 1992, I was in high school. That's 4 years of my life. 4 years of my life that I really couldn't give a shit about. There are a few people from high school that I'm interested in maintaining a cordial relationship with, and a couple who I even still consider friends, however for the most part, my feelings towards my high school class are summed up in this quote from Bilbo Baggins in the book The Lord of the Rings: "I don't know half of you half as well as I should like; and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

Hence, you probably won't find me at the 20 year reunion. Nothing against anyone... but nothing for them either. I've moved on.

A Few Things

Something that I have learned about owning a cat (having a cat own you) is that the position in which you ultimately fall asleep at night is often governed by the moment at which the cat decides to fall asleep on you.

That tendency for a cat to sleep wherever he pleases also caused me to completely move where I was sitting to work on a knitting project last night. Shortly after I got comfortable, the cat woke up, looked at me like "oh, were you sitting here?" then got up and left. Of course I was already comfortable and wasn't going to move again just to prove a point to a creature with limited short term memory. 


Another thing I have learned is that since I have lost weight (77 pounds now, 29 to go) I have not had heartburn. I used to get it all the time. Is it the loss of weight or the avoidance of fried foods? I guess I'll never know, but I'm also not going to question it. I rarely get back pain (unless I oversleep. That's been consistent throughout my life though - sleep more than 8 hours, wake up with lower back pain that goes away pretty quickly. 

In a semi related story, since I paid attention from a free little tip from a swim instructor at the Y and changed my stroke just slightly, my recurring shoulder pain has almost vanished. I still get regular massages. I think everyone should. I got one to reward myself for doing the Monster Dash and the YWCA Indoor Tri, which I finished 10 minutes faster than last year. I am signed up for the next one in January. 

This is a status report.

So this is what I looked like in 2005 (late 2005 I think)

I honestly have no idea how much I weighed because I wasn't particularly friendly with a scale. Actually I still don'y own one but this was before I joined the Y and had access to a scale.

This is me right now (2011). Since my 2010 doctors appointment, I've lost 67 lbs. I have done this by counting every damn calorie that I eat. I am running up to 8.75 miles in one trip, continuing to go to the Y, and walking whenever weather or time permits.

I am not using any crash diet. I am not taking supplements. I am not giving my attention to any fad television shows which show people losing weight at an unhealthy and potentially harmful rate, which in turn validates eating disorders amongst the viewing public. I am not beating myself up if I have a week where I lose less than I wanted to, and I am not slowing down anytime soon. I don't own a scale, I weigh myself at the Y once a week. That's really all that anyone needs to do. Any more than that is obsessing.... I suppose if I had a scale at home I could weigh my cat, but really, I already know he's huge.

I am signed up for a 5K on 10/29/2011 and another Indoor Triathlon on 11/6/2011. I am not "training." I don't even know what "training" really means. I am not doing a prescribed set of exercises because someone says they are the way to prepare. I am not interested in doing a marathon. I am exercising every day, and trying to keep it interesting. If that means going on longer runs like the 8.75 mile course that takes me from home, around two lakes, and back again, then that is what it means. If it means going to the Midtown YWCA and running 36 laps (6 miles) on the indoor track, then it's all good. If that means swimming, water aerobics, elliptical machine, Walk Away the Pounds DVD (which is great when you live on the top floor - no bouncing!), Yoga DVD, walking around the mall a million times, hiking, skiing, canoodling, then it's all good! My only goal is to feel good, burn calories, be awesome - in no particular order.

As of today: 67 lbs down 39 to go.

U2 Puts On A Show

A picture of what Dodger Stadium might look like

In 1993, I got to go see U2's "Zoo TV Outside Broadcast Tour" at Dodger Stadium due to the fact that my ex's mother had basically purchased a row of tickets. When she called me to ask if I wanted to go, it was evident that she had no idea that the band was at all huge or that the show had sold out. Not counting a group trip to see Paula Abdul and Boyz II Men when I was 16, this was my first "Real" concert, and it was fantastic. It was huge. They had a belly dancer on stage, Bono spoke to my heart with his liberal world-view, and there was a video segment which allowed Bono do duet with Lou Reed on Satellite of Love (and I have loved Lou Reed since far before age 16). It took an inordinate amount of time to get from Orange to Los Angeles and we bought tee shirts from vendors who were basically standing out on the Freeway which was so far backed up that they were in no danger of physical harm. I honestly don't remember if I bought that tee shirt or if it was bought for me, it was a long time ago. (Holy crud, 18 years ago doing the math) I have no idea what happened to that tee shirt, but if I had held on to it, I would have worn it last night. 

The stage resembled "some type of crustacean."

A few weeks ago, my friend Sara left me a voicemail message while my phone was in my locker at the Y. She wanted to know if I would be at all interested in going with her to the U2 360 concert at TCF Bank Stadium, as her husband was not particularly interested. She specified that she had obtained the tickets so long ago (this show had to be rescheduled about a year ago) that she wasn't even going to ask me to pay her. Would I ever! 

The TCF Bank Stadium on the University of Minnesota campus is very new, very nice, and very crappy with regards to parking and traffic control. Umbrellas and backpacks are prohibited, which is great when the forecast calls for rain. I decided to go poncho-free, partly because Sara had only been able to locate one when she was on her way, but I honestly wouldn't have chosen a poncho because being plain wet is better in my opinion than being clammy with the feeling of wet even though your brain knows your dry.

Interpol was the opening act. Not super familiar with them. We tried to look them up online, but both my Blackberry and Sara's iPhone were having data problems. 60,000 people all trying to update Facebook creates problems with the network. Imagine that. 

To pass the time, we watched the stagehands through the binoculars as they tore down Interpol and got everything ready for U2 (I saw someone I know on the crew, which is a testament to Sara's awesome binoculars!) We determined that the setpiece resembled some sort of crustacean. 

Around dark, the show actually began. It was quite good, and if you hadn't bought a ticket and were outside, you should have been able to hear just fine. Bono used the rain as an excuse to sing snippets of "Rain" (by The Beatles), "Singin in the Rain" and "Purple Rain" (local area statute requires at least one Prince acknowledgement by all visitors).

"It's A Beautiful Day" was performed as a "duet" of sorts with NASA Commander Mark Kelly (husband of Gabrielle Giffords, and if you don't know who she is, look it up).
Because YouTube is Awesome, here it is:

 

Sound is kind of iffy, but this will give you the general idea

At one point, Bono dedicated the song "Stuck In A Moment" to Amy Winehouse, as she had passed away that day, and about halfway through the song the Aquatennial fireworks started in clear visibility to most of the people in the stadium, as if she had answered the dedication somehow. 

I'm wearing a hat.

The fireworks lasted for several songs and the rain got harder as the evening progressed. I looked around and there were a few empty seats and a lot of ponchos. I thought I was okay because I was wearing a hat. Bono was wearing a hat as well - in fact, he brought two hats, he actually changed his hat at one point, so I felt justified. Adam Clayton took a different approach and took his shirt off. Now there's a guy who obviously works out... The rain was starting to get on my nerves when I started thinking about how in Zen Buddhism they talk about being able to "sit" through anything. Well, I wasn't going to "sit" as my seat was wet, but I supposed that the same logic could apply to standing and by default, that logic could also apply to dancing. I decided, therefore, that I would "dance" through the discomfort, and I found 

that I was not uncomfortable at all. The rain was rather invigorating, looked really neat falling through the lighting, and not too long after it stopped raining, I was moderately dry. 

Getting home was a new adventure. We were initially going to look for a cab, but there were none to be found. With my personal knowledge of the bus system, I got us onto a 6 to head for downtown. The sea of people walking into traffic at this time was unnerving. Do they no longer teach kindergarteners that it is an inherently bad idea to walk into traffic? We made it downtown though, and after a walkabout seeking a cab for the final leg of my journey (not Sara's as she had parked at my place), we resigned ourselves to wait for the bus. 

Upon entering the bus, in the seating section known lovingly as the "peanut gallery" there was a tall skinny man wearing 4 pairs of sunglasses and a homemade tee shirt that said "BORN BONO." This was nothing compared to the nonsense coming out of his mouth. I tried, I tried so very very hard not to pay attention to him, but in the last bit before our stop when he declared "I'm going to take off my pants!" I just burst into laughter. (Note: this individual was so high on whatever it was he had taken that I seriously believe that he lacked the proper dexterity to remove an article of clothing.)

A picture of what U2 might look like.

Although I still kind of prefer seeing smaller bands in smaller venues and being able to see the whites of their eyes, this was an amazing concert experience and next time they're here I'm actually going to make a concerted effort to obtain tickets of my own.