28. Perspective Half Way Through

At the Crossroads of Sunset and Moonlight

I watch early morning seagulls gliding through the sky to their flawless landing atop the lamppost of my San Luis Rey & Ocean Front signpost.  Six of them seem to be playing together as they dart from rooftop to rooftop, then burst off circling the beach, back to another rooftop, now swoosh up again o'er top of the serious 7:00 a.m. volleyball players, and finally line up on the arc of the lamppost. 


Perhaps they're resting, or napping--do birds nap?--as they sit side by side, silhouetted in synchronized perfection.  One breaks away to come perch on a ledge directly above my curious head.  She looks down, I look up, we share a moment, and she's gone. She doesn't join her five napping companions, but finds her own curved post on the beach's far end by the park.  When the five decide to take off swooping and soaring again, she remains, preparing for her day ahead.  As do I.


Half way through Fitcamp in San Diego, half way through living in a sun-filled paradise instead of Chicago's frozen winter wonderland, half way through whatever I hope to accomplish while I'm here...pause, deep breath...I ask what will my days ahead bring?


I'd imagined the daily workouts before I came.  Imagining and experiencing, of course are two very different things.  The first week I now realize was sheer will power, forcing myself to participate, to follow the trainers with my heavy, awkward moves.  The second week, promising myself to attack the workouts instead of simply experiencing them, again my head said attack and my body said, "Oh, alright, but up to a point."

I took a morning off here and there, to walk to the water's edge and bend down for this shell and that (discovering when done correctly, I was actually performing squat after squat anyway)  but never missed Fitcamp in the evenings and on Saturday mornings.

I learned about balancing my protein, carbs and fat, and to write every single item in a food diary.  I shared with friends--some who teach me much, and some I'm able to pass it on to. 

I had interesting discussions with my neighbor upstairs about artists and atheletes.  I accepted the generosity of the trainers driving me back and forth to Fitcamp. I tuned a friend's first Ukulele for him (and followed "Ukulele Mike" online learning to play "Amazing Grace".)

I brought together a friend from Phoenix with a San Diego friend who will now be able to work together in a portion of each's business venture, and, I discovered I could walk 2 -6 miles to get whatever I need to get done in a day!  Grocery store, post office, real estate office, drug store--all there waiting for a good walk.

I haven't written here in the blog for awhile...it seemed like so many details regarding push-ups, lunges, planks, lateral squats, every type of bicep/tricep/and all other muscle group resistance exercise, and on and on,  kicks, jabs, steps, knee-raises, and on and on...  my daily grind didn't seem like something to write about.

However, half way through, I've gained perspective. 

I turned a corner. 

My body isn't telling me what to do on the mat and on the grassy obstacle courses, I'm telling it what to do!  It's a new feeling, one which I believe is moving toward balance.  In the future I hope to continue working together, mind and body, toward accomplishing my goals.

In the future I hope to bring you along, bring my friends along, swooping and soaring together, finding our own perches when we need them, and lining up together when we need to share. 

If you could fly... 

You can.

One step at a time.



Discovered today in the preparation details for the "Hustle Up The Hancock" on Feb. 27th, that the 94 story climb has 1632 steps, but the 52 story climb, which I'm doing, only has 816 steps! Sounds like a piece of cake compared to the over-1000 that I previously thought it would be.  Still have a lot of training to go, but I believe it sounds manageable now.

Yesterday I learned my first Ukulele piece, discovering I'd like to purchase one and learn to play.  Unbelievably, last evening a friend back in Wisconsin invited me to go with her to a Ukulele workshop in August--out of nowhere--we'd never, ever spoken of Ukuleles before!  I'm in. 

27. Hearing the Difference

Oatmeal with Blueberries, Cantaloupe, and Sprouted Whole Grain Toast

This photo is the new wallpaper on  my laptop. 

Every reminder to stay on course helps.

After working out every day--most days twice--in addition to walking two to four miles, it would be self-sabotage not to eat healthy meals.  It would be self-sabotage to indulge wildly on some kind of sweets binge.  It would be self-sabotage to eat fast food, full of calories and high in fat.

That's why I flew two thousand miles, spent the year's vacation money for housing, dedicated my fifty-nine year old body to working out two times a day, and told everyone I know about it.  With all that at stake, there is absolutely no room for self-sabotage. 

I walk by pizza joints, taco stands, ice cream parlors, burger bars, and bars period, every single day--sometimes several times a day.  I think about stopping.  Once I did, for a taco, then proceeded to remove all the cheese, half the ground beef, and guiltily (which actually is a word, I looked it up) nibbled at the lettuce and tortilla.  It felt good to get back to my little retreat cottage and cut up fresh vegetables to eat with my chicken breast dinner that night.

Accountability is built into every aspect of this phase of my journey.  It's working.

A shift takes place when I'm in this zone.  I'm satisfied with small portions and unhealthy choices become less and less appealing. 

However, I've traveled in this zone before--many times.  The most recent, in 2009 as I prepared over a three-month period for my son's wedding, losing quite a few pounds and developing some fairly healthy eating patterns.  Three months later, it was business as usual, putting the weight back on and munching all day on whatever was at hand. 

Something has to be different this time

to

turn a zone into a lifestyle.

What will that difference be?  At first I was counting on the sheer sacrifice and effort of going through this fitcamp daily, so far from home, to be the key--the determining factor that makes this experience different from all others. 

Now I know it's more.  I haven't learned the full of it yet.  I feel the beginning though. 

It is tied into being myself--the true authentic self I was created to be.  It is tied into having removed myself from every possible negative factor and energy that could keep me from completing this journey to wholeness.  It is tied into meditating on God and a universe that is so grand, and yet knowing at the same time, I am part of that plan. 

It is grand.  Nothing petty.  Nothing pesky.

 

No part of sabotage is in God's plan.

I feel the beginning of this difference

which is tied into

my gut/heart/soul/spirit, you pick, 

telling me with every step I take,

"You experienced your workouts last week. 

Now this week you must attack them."

It is tied into knowing I have actually

not been down this road before,

ever.

26. By the Light of the Moon -- it's Silver Crescent Bright

TODAY'S BREAKFAST

"How nice it is for you now, to have such a change in your life!"

This was the response of my upstairs neighbor upon hearing of my severly unfit and overweight past, as well as my current goals of climbing/hiking a mountain and participating in the John Hancock stair climb.

I assumed she meant the change of having all my children grown and the time to spend on these endeavors.  However, she explained, "No, I mean the change for you--now you get to be an athlete."

Never had I heard the word athlete in reference to me.  Over the next few minutes I realized that, indeed, I am training to do something athletic--to be an athlete! 

Fitcamp started yesterday. Three outstanding trainers, people you want to know and have as friends, have a dream.  I have a dream.  It just so happened that the timing on both of our dreams coincided!

Rhonda, Carisse and Palani began their new venture called  fitcampSD  on New Year's Day, at least the part of it which entails the actual workouts.  Months of planning and years of preparation brought them to that moment.  Each is trained, skilled and certified in various physical fitness strategies.  They have years of experience in the field.  They also have a heart for people and for making the world a better place.

I began my fitness journey forty-two months ago.  For three years I learned what it is to experience going to a gym regularly, to follow a trainer's instructions, to step, lift, kick, lunge and stretch with a group class, and to pick myself up after falling off the proverbial wagon!  After ups and downs, gains and losses, frustrations and elations I kept coming back.

Long story short--when I contemplated turning 60 in Oct. 2011, I decided the time for ups and downs is over.  Now it's time for a focused "straight ahead."  Straight ahead toward a goal, each step I take informs me of the next, and prepares me for the mountain hike/climb in October.  More importantly, this is training to become all that I can be, not only for myself, but for my family, my friends, my community and the world around me.  A healthy body plays a most vital role.

Many think it strange to have flown from Chicago to San Diego to work out.  I see it as the next step toward a goal, just as Rhonda, Carisse and Palani see each workout as the next step toward their goals.  The paths to our dreams crossed, bringing us all to last night's stretches, lunges, push-ups and leaps in Mission Bay Park by the water, under a light, on the grass, on dewy mats, with increased heart rates and the joy of living.

This morning as I rose from bed to contemplate my morning workout, I'll admit I had to find the ibuprofen bottle first.  But then I wall-squatted and planked and was on my way again through another workout,  followed by my reward--a two mile walk along the beach with the sun seeping into my shoulders and back, and a clear blue sky above the tops of the palm trees!

The prospect of doing this over and over, morning and night for the next thirty days is a bit overwhelming if I don't think of myself as an athlete.  If I do, I'm simply burning rubber on the road to reaching my goal.

25. We All Watch the Same Sun

Sunday:  Walked the path along Mission Bay today, shopped at oceanside beach stores, talked with shop owners, walked the beach and made an appointment with my first sunset of this journey.

My deck, at home before I left Chicago.

I walked out of my San Diego place this morning, layered as if I was still in Chicago. Ten minutes into the walk, I  began removing them one by one.   San Diego has experienced record highs this time of year in the 80's, but over these next few weeks the highs forcast are between 64 and 68 degrees.  Considering the highs forecast for Chicago this coming week between 17 and 28 degrees, I am not complaining!

A handsome young Australian rang up my purchase this morning in his beachfront store.  I commented on how nice the weather was and how I'd worn too many layers thinking it would be colder.  He remarked that, he too, had done the same.  His next remark surprised me.

"Now I'm stuck though.  I made the mistake of putting on a tank top underneath.  So if I take off my sweatshirt, I'll have to hold in my stomach all day!"

I didn't think I'd heard him correctly.  It was exactly the kind of statement I might make.  I looked across the counter more carefully, and still only saw a handsome looking young man, certainly not overweight!  I replied something about men not really having to worry about that. 

He assured me, "Oh yes we do.  Especially as we get older, you know?"  Again, something I do indeed know, but was quite amazed to be hearing it from him.

We continued our chat pleasantly and I was on my way. 

I'm always trying to remember how we are all connected, how we all have fears, anxieties, misgivings, and regrets, as well as successes, accomplishments and good fortune.  There is not one set of privileged people who get to skip over all the negatives. 

Why can't we each be more aware of our common traits and trials, and less strident about our differences?  Concentrating on the differences only builds up unnecessary walls that keep us from relating to each other and lifting each other up.

Maybe I'll say hello again on my next walk and tell him about FitcampSD!  I wouldn't have thought he needed it, but sounds like he could use the physical boost of confidence.

I learned sunset was for 5 p.m. today.  At 4:48 I made my way across the street and up the path to the beach, only to discover I was a few minutes too late to see the full effect.  In the future I'll give myself more time.  However, there was something uplifting about making that appointment with the sun.  At home, I have to say, I take the sun's comings and goings for granted.  

Tonight, my steps bounced, around a few blocks extra, on my way back from the sunset.  When I walked into my place, I poured sparkling water into a wine glass to toast the sun--a ritual I'm looking forward to repeating in these weeks to come. 

My patio just before sunset.

 



24. "Fly away, fly away, close my eyes and I can fly away..."

Joni Mitchell’s singing “Ca-li-for-nia…I’m coming home, I’m gonna see the folks I dig... " on my I-Pod, flying west, clear and bright with purpose.

Next Leslie and Steve sing about walking this world looking for light, “Where are the strong, who are the trusted, and where is the harmony…sweet harmony…” while I spoon up unsweetened applesauce and crunch “simply naked” bagel chips dipped in lemon and pepper tuna (United's “Lite Snack.”) I must mention, crunching bagel chips with earphones on, sounds like an army of boots marching through fields of broken ice inside my head!

I haven’t felt this exact exhilaration since my early twenties when I left college for a time, packed all my earthly belongings into my pale blue Volkswagen bug, and headed west-- destination unknown, just west. See you on the dark side of the moon!

The difference is, then I was trying to find myself-- searching by throwing myself into the world and seeing what stuck! Now, I know myself, I know life, love and sorrow.  I know what it is to give myself away purposefully, to accept responsibility, to be careful when necessary, to defer dreams, to live dreams, to share adventures, to build a life, nurture a family, and join a community.

Some of these lessons came more easily than others. Leslie’s singing, “…Whatever spins a grim tornado, can also turn a potter’s wheel…”  I’ve spun some grim tornadoes in my time, haven’t we all! 

This time I head west, not to find myself, not to “see what sticks,” but rather, to give and receive mutually, interconnected with the land, the people, the circumstances, and opportunities all around. Expressing love, becoming all I can be-- the whole self I was created to be, I’ll find direction one step at a time.  I'm awed by the love of my family and friends, the strength which holds me up, allowing continual discoveries.

Thank you!

In two more hours I’ll get out of a cab on San Luis Rey Boulevard, the driver will lift two heavy suitcases from the trunk and place them in front of a gate. I’ll use the combination given for the lock box of my beach rental in Mission Bay, San Diego. I’ll walk through the gate, across my patio and into the next five weeks of my life.

I’m coming to you from thousands of feet in the sky, dipping my naked bagel chips into the can of lemon pepper tuna which looks like cat food, and sipping my “Sunrise Sunset” cocktail, because I am celebrating the beginning of this journey-- flying west with the sun, listening to every note of inspiration.

Pink Floyd just said, “I’m not afraid of dying,” then (The Great Gig in the Sky) wails out the most inspired three minutes and thirty-six seconds of wailing, period, ever...  So glad I finally discovered this I-pod world.

The adventure begins.

Written Saturday, 1 p.m.

Once unpacked, walked three miles exploring. (As well as trying to find a "Trader Joe's" to stock the kitchen.)
Tomorrow is a day of rest, then two workouts/day begin on Monday.
Goals:
1) Reach the proper readiness level for the race up the stairs of the John Hancock building on Feb. 27th, 
2) Establish a healthy pattern of exercise, and a nutritionally sound, well- balanced eating plan as a new lifestyle.
3) Have fun doing it!

Dinner Tonight

23. A time to remember...

Preparing for Harold's mother's funeral tomorrow, I shopped for something to wear.  Though I rarely wear a dress, in Lucille's honor I bought a dress.  Though I never wear a hat, in Lucille's honor I bought a hat.  Then, as I was walking to the checkout, a young girl and her mother walked ahead of me and the mother could have been Lucille from the back.  She turned to the side, and it could have been her from the side.  The woman looked just like her, hat and all. 

I didn't know Lucille when she was young.  As a part of the "greatest generation" (though the phrase seems to have come from descriptions of, well... men... who went to war)...anyway...let's say... members of my parents' generation, she and her husband, Harold Sr., raised their children  in the manner of the day--their sons looked sharp, dressed sharp, knew their place in adult company, obeyed, deferred to and respected their elders, sat still in church, stood tall for their annual September teaspoon of Castor oil, and left the house each day knowing they represented their parents and the honor of their name in every thought and action... knowing they carried the Spooner name in each step they took.

We met on Valentine's Day weekend in 1974.  I didn't know what to expect.  All I knew was, somewhere in those fall and winter months of my senior year at Houghton College, I'd fallen in love with her son, Harold Jr.

Lucille and her husband had "moved on up" to Tracy Towers in the Bronx. Her Mom, Minnie, lived with them.  In fact, Lucille had lived her whole life with Minnie, whose husband had died when Lucille was young.  She and Minnie made their way from Mississippi to New York City, settling down in Harlem, where she later met her Harold in church.  But I digress...that Valentine's Day in '74 I walked past the doorman, into the elevator, and up to the twenty-sixth floor wondering what lay ahead.

I met Minnie (Grandma Jackson to us,) who was so very glad to see her grandson and his new girlfriend.  She slipped me some money and proceeded to ask me to buy her a new sweater and slippers the next time we went out.  I was only too happy to oblige.  I soon learned this was one of her idiosyncrasies, when the rest of the family heard this request-- laughter and explanations swirled around--they took very good care of her and would get her anything she ever wanted, and they did, every day.  Yet, when I met her, she'd asked me to do this as if it were the only way she could get new slippers and a sweater!  Lucille loved her mother dearly, but also lived with her attitudes that seemed to be growing in her old age.

We sat down to Lucille's fine homemade dinner of fried chicken, potato salad, macaroni salad, greens and rice, all prepared with much love.  Of course Minnie was called to come join us all around the table, but she said she wasn't very hungry.  Then she proceeded to sit down and eat a healthy plate of firsts, and seconds, ...of everything. The family knew this was coming, all joking and laughing as the ritual unfolded.

The next day I sat with Lucille, helping with the laundry duties, just the two of us.  As we reached down into the washer, pulling out tightly rinsed garments to throw into the dryer, she said, "When my son told me he was bringing home a girl for the weekend, I was very excited.  But then he said...'Mom, she's a white girl.' 

She went on, "At first I was disappointed, and said, 'Oh, a white girl??'  But then I thought about it.  I realized, this is the woman my son loves.  If he loves her, and she loves him, then...that's what's important."

She finished her story to me by saying, "...And I've been alright with it ever since.  I just had to think about it, that's all."

I will never forget those words.  I will never forget Lucille's voice as she spoke them.  I can see us both together in that laundry room 36 years ago, as clearly as if it were today.

I remember her voice calling to ask about each of our children on the phone over the years, her voice of advice and encouragement the first time I had to deal with a racial incident in my son's pre-school, her laughter and confidence when the four of us were playing cards together, her concern for the young people in her community, her pride and love for her husband, "Spooner," (who, by the way, is definitely in my greatest generation description, as he proudly served our nation at war in the Merchant Marines.) 

I remember her joy describing the cruises she'd been on, and I'll never forget the first time I saw Lucille and Harold Sr. dancing--they could have been on "Dancing with the Stars!"  I remember her love and care for her mother, her family, her church family, and her God. I can see her vividly, sitting each early morning with her tea and toast, and then reading her Bible.

No, I didn't know Lucille when she was young. And, many miles separated us for long periods of time as we both grew older.  However, I was privileged to have been touched by her life, privileged to have walked with her in the moments that were granted to us in time, in the life of our family.  I thank her (especially for her son, but for everything really) and, I pay tribute to her for her life of work, dedication, perseverance, consistency, loyalty, understanding and love.