Buy the Book

 http://www.amazon.com/The-Sound-Stars-Sandra-Smith/dp/0595345824/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1354763259&sr=8-3&keywords=The+Sound+of+the+Stars

The Sound of the Stars  
by Sandra M. Smith

Years ago I was surrounded by four small, adorable children and had a hubby who averaged 60-hour work weeks. I enjoyed that phase of life witnessing the exponential growth of my children but missed out on regular adult conversation. I also found that children and husband alike had trouble listening to me. In fact, most days it felt like nobody was listening.

In order to avoid being put away on grounds of continually talking to myself, I took pen to paper-actually fingers to keyboard-and wrote a novel. It was a fun project and kept me sane, or pushed me toward blissful insanity, depending on how you look at it. To fulfill a need to create felt wonderful and kept me balanced. To wake up in the middle of the night by conversations my characters were having in my head was wacky but interesting, to say the least. Those figments of my imagination came alive and pretty much dictated which direction the book went. They taught me much in this writing adventure and I thank them for it.

This book is about people and places and love and life and sorrow and forgiveness and skinny dipping. It’s ideas I’ve learned and beauty I’ve discovered. I was living in foreign countries when most of it was written so some exotica comes through. (Not to be confused with erotica-sorry to disappoint.) I self published the book in 2005 so I could hold something in my hands after that two-year on again off again relationship with the figments. My small, adorable children are now teenagers and older but strangely, I still feel like no one ever listens to me.

I wanted to share my book with the world but it was too scary. It felt like that dream where you get somewhere and realize you’re naked. It is a work of fiction but if you recognize any people or situations just keep your mouth shut and we’ll talk payment later.

Last year someone asked me if it was available for download on an electronic reader. I didn’t know. So I ordered one for my Nook. It worked. Two months later I got a royalty check for $1.67. I was overjoyed. Someone bought my book! Then I remember it was me. So now, it you want to push someone into overjoyed land, you have the power. Buy the book, enjoy it and make my day! By the way, I think you’re really pretty!

http://www.amazon.com/The-Sound-Stars-Sandra-Smith/dp/0595345824/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1354763259&sr=8-3&keywords=The+Sound+of+the+Stars 

The Botox Blues

 My beautiful and wise friend Renee Thurber (partner in crime since 7th grade) wrote a funny, thought-provoking essay. Just thought I'd share it with you. Enjoy!


Virtue would go far if vanity did not keep it company.
~Francois de La Rochefoucauld

i am a vain woman. heck, i was a vain kid. on the morning of my very first day of kindergarten while i was primping before the mirror i felt a little confused so i asked my mom "am i pretty, or cute?". obnoxious, i know. and the thing is - this was a serious question for me, one that i felt was weighty and consequential and deserved an honest answer. now i find it amusing that my wisdomic mom's response irritated me a bit - actually her cavalier answer absolutely annoyed me. "well, you look just fine Nay. and i'd say you're pretty-cute!".
should time travel become a feasible option anytime soon, i do have a message i'd like to give to my little self on that first day of kindergarten. but first let's deal with the present, shall we?
being a middle aged woman in america today is an interesting thing. we spend a deplorable amount of the almighty dollar on the fountain of youth. and i am conflicted. should i jump on the bandwagon and literally buy in to the anti aging craze, or should i embrace the aging process with grace and dignity by shunning the miracles of modern medicine which aide in stalling the process? why, the latter option of course. YES!! age naturally - absolutely!! i will NOT succumb to the pressures of botox and injectables and plastic surgeries. no way, not me. i mean i may be vain but i'm far too enlightened for such nonsense. right?
a couple of years ago i noticed that one of my girlfriends looked unusually rested and peaceful. i should mention that she is a lovely woman approaching 50 with a whole bunch of kids - like 117 or something. anyway i said "Gracie, you look fantastic!". i wasn't searching for an explanation, that's just not how my brain works, but she very easily responded "that's because i got some botox between my brows and i don't have that permanent scowl that made me look so unhappy and tired all the time." as soon as she told me this i realized eureka! that is exactly why she looks so great! she then went on to explain that there was a problem with the look, however, as her 117 kids didn't know when she meant business. in fact, my friend gave me her "mad" face and i had to admit that is was pretty non threatening. i guess everything is a trade off.
i should clarify that i have no issue at all with people who choose to incorporate these modern miracles and tricks into their beauty regime. my dilemma exists within the confines of my own mind and relates to my own personal experience. i'm not all judgy judy, that's just not how i roll.
so here comes my confession: i did the botox thing.
ok FINE, i did it twice! damn that groupon. yes, i used groupon both times which is a little embarrassing and a tad curious but i suppose we all have our chinks in the armor. apparently my moral resolve to resist the trappings of modern middle aged madness is built on a sandy foundation easily washed away by a smoking daily deal. and 89 bucks for $400 worth of vanity's ambrosia is a screamin deal my friends. (alas, i hang my head in shame.) (but whoa nellie i was looking good - you know, in a frozen plasticy kinda way.)
so a few months after a dose of toxins had been injected in to those well earned feet of crows around my smiling eyes i bumped in to an acquaintance whom i had not seen in nearly 3 decades. her third sentence to me was part question part accusation. "WHY DO YOU NOT HAVE ANY WRINKLES?" retrospect tells me this was a socially odd beginning to our catch up session, but at the time i felt a heavy pang of guilt and nearly shouted back "BECAUSE I AM A FRAUD! A CHARLATAN! I SUCK! I CANT RESIST THE POSSIBILITY OF A RANDOM COMPLIMENT ABOUT MY YOUTHFUL PRESERVATION ANY MORE THAN I CAN TURN AWAY FROM A GREAT GROUPON!" instead i just just sort of sheepishly shrugged. and silently vowed to never ever ever again surrender to the ridiculous temptation of botoxing the lines away.
and i've kept that vow. but i had to remove myself from the groupon alerts - i'm only human.
did you know that we spend $20 billion dollars a year on cosmetics alone in this country? and that number doesn't even touch what we drop on the increasingly popular menu of invasive beauty treatment options. i don't know. i don't have a whole lot of life's complexities completely figured out, but i do know that that stat makes me sick. i get that there are real problems in the world. i know that there are those even in my inner circle who could use just a fraction of what i spend on beauty lotions and potions, friends who are suffering with real life issues much more pressing than lookin good. i'm compelled to be more thoughtful about how i choose to divvy my financial resources. even by removing money from the mix there is something entirely screwy about a society that spends more time worrying about "fine lines and wrinkles" than about significant social and even moral and emotional issues. still though, i admit that when i see a friend decide to ditch the hair dye and embrace the gray i celebrate her freedom and commend her chutzpah with sincerity all the while thinking good for you, chica bonita, but i'm off to the drug store cause it's time to hit the bottle, baby - aint no way i'm following suit. see what i mean about being conflicted? serenity - such an elusive tease sometimes.
George Sand (Amantine Lucile Aurore Dupin), a sassy, brassy and unconventional french novelist from the 1800's who was known in part for bucking the traditional fashion trends of her time once said "vanity is the quick sand of reason". tell me about it, georgie. tell me about it.
they say 50 is the new 40 and frankly i have no idea what that really means particularly since 40 was once the new 30 and may still be who knows so i'm left wondering in Cosmo years and stuff just how the hell old am i anyway? enough already.
this much i do know; i feel great. i mean, i feel better (dare i say even younger?) than i have in years and i can easily claim that i'd much rather feel good in my skin than look young in it. i don't know if i deserve any points for that but let's be real - having the energy to remain engaged in the stuff that floats our boats is awesome. and more importantly being healthy enough to enjoy those fabulous human beings with whom we desire to spend our energies - to really BE with the people we love most - that's a really big deal! for me, good health is a blessing which i am not guilty of taking for granted. shouldn't we be more invested (both phychologically and financially)in feeling good than in looking good? i mean, when i'm healthy i'm able to connect with others - which is pretty much what i'm all about. looking like crap hasn't stopped me form connecting with anybody ever, well at least since high school. ok, maybe a couple times in college puffy eyes or zits made me feel reclusive - i'm vain - we've covered that. and i'm suddenly reminded of my favorite Dennis Miller quote: "There's nothing wrong with being shallow as long as you're insightful about it..." heh
i guess the older i get the more i revel in the the stuff of real meaning. the more i recognize the value of time wisely spent and the emptiness in money foolishly squandered. the easier it becomes to first see, and then to eschew the silicone lies that assail us today. i'm not sure if my own inner botox-battle will ever know a full peace treaty, but i don't see myself giving up the fight. when it comes to the strife in my mind, i'm no deserter. i'm barely scratching the surface here and i feel like i could carry on ad nauseam but the insight i'm typically left with after consciously hashing these things out is that i'm probably not going to come to an easy resolution any time soon, if ever. but remaining engaged in the effort to find meaning in the way we choose to live is a good thing. in the case of vanity, dissecting those modern beauty messages (myths) is more worthy than blindly wandering to the surgeons chair without questioning the marching orders that lead us to such an action. yes, that feels right to me - to remain engaged in the process of figuring things out. to be willing to change course when my inner compass seems askew. those ideas appeal to my divine spark. the Gnostics teach of the divine spark, and the concept resonates with me...that spark being infinitely more relevant than how old i appear or how fabulously plump my kisser is compared to angelina Jolie's.
oh and then there is that message to little renee i'd deliver if the time travel thing were to become an option: dear 5 year old me, you know that confusion you have about being "cute or pretty" when you look in the mirror? it doesn't matter. really, don't worry about it. you're smart and kind and curious and thoughtful. you have a little feist that will serve you well. your looks are what they are and that is just fine, despite the litany of messages you will be bombarded with which seem to link good looks with personal worth. foster your inner beauty and develop your mind and your talents because none of the rest really matters. you are worthy of love, you are a good person, and you are beautiful; regardless of the way you look.
well i might not use that exact same vocabulary, but you get the gist. oh, and i'd include a warning about avoiding landon lambert in the 4th grade - dude's trouble.

Stress = Brownies=Stress=Brownies

Life got a little stressful this week. I self-medicated with brownies. Too much sugar makes it hard for me to handle stress. So more brownies. After which, daily happenings that normally are not stressful feel catastrophic to me. Thus fueling the need for more brownies. And so on and so forth until I spend a long night crying about my stressful life and my brownie-bloated body. I wake up the next morning with bloated eyes to match bloated body. Nothing fits now because in a wave of optimism I gave away my fat jeans a few months ago, assuming I would never be riding the 150 plus pound wave again. So here I am feeling a little strung out on sugar and wearing uncomfortably tight jeans on a bloated body. Let's just call this eating rock bottom and go up from here, shall we?

Do you have a family that becomes truly barbaric when a large pan of brownies sits on the stove? Do they skip the whole civilized act of cutting and serving brownies in lieu of a couple of forks in the pan? Do they leave the forks in the pan so that anytime anyone walks through the kitchen they can pick up a fork and take a stab at the pan and chew up the brownies on the way to somewhere else, effectively leaving a Hansel and Gretel trail throughout the house? Does the enormous pan of brownies disappear, forkful by forkful, at an alarmingly fast rate and everyone assumes that someone else is eating most of it? Does your family consume brownies like that? Well, thank goodness, neither does mine!

But other than those bad news brownies,  everything is great! I'm getting psyched to start another attempt at my 30-day raw food experiment. This time I'm going to be gentle on myself and remind myself that this is NOT a diet. This is a celebration of the miraculous abundance we have of delicious, healing foods. There is no bandwagon to fall off of. No amount self loathing will be tolerated. (Thank you, Cindy, for that.) This is not about what I CAN'T eat but about what I WANT to eat. This is a powerful way for me to nourish my body and help me to reach my best place- physically, emotionally and spiritually. A place I love, love, love being in. A place full of calm, loving feelings and great skin. Produce shopping here I come.

Havasupai Falls

 

                                            Incredible and so worth the effort to get there

Years ago, Audrey and her friends hiked down to the falls in the Grand Canyon. The pictures she took of beautiful waterfalls and dream-like blue green water captivated me. I am drawn to almost any type of water, but Havasupai whispered my name in a powerful way. I vowed to go. I envied the fact that she took all these fun trips while I was tied down with a family business and numerous small children. Even though I knew I could take three days from my life if I HAD to, I never did. Responsibilities and inconvenience to others weighed heavily while making plans.

                            
                                    Havasu Falls-another time, another photographer

Last January, without the family business or dependent little people to factor in, we made a plan. I booked a couple nights in March at the Havasupai Lodge and arranged to meet Audrey for my long awaited adventure to the magical waters. But, a month before our scheduled departure I changed the plan so I could join Brandon in California on one of his business trips. I called the lodge and booked the next two nights available which wasn’t until the end of September.

                                  Audrey in front of Havasu Falls

Audrey knows I am unreliable and flaky (I prefer spontaneous to an inconvenient degree) in all matters of fun activities and was undaunted. She merely kept my original reservation (they are hard to get) invited some of her friends and went without me. She returned with fabulous photos and threatened me with unspeakable consequences if I should dare to cancel on her AGAIN! (Hey Auddie, I’m still sorry about blowing off the reunion after I talked you into going.) Suzy had scheduled two days off which is stressful because of all the work that awaits her when she returns. (The disadvantage of being so good at your job, Soupie.) I knew I had to either go in September or consider myself officially orphaned.

                                                 Me and Soup taking a dip at Navajo Falls

I’m talking about a place I’ve wanted to visit for years so why did I need pressure to go in the first place? Doesn’t seem to make sense, does it? I am indeed a mysterious woman, just ask hubby. He is still searching for the manual. Maybe after a few hundred hours of counseling I’ll know more. But for now I do know this:

Whenever I plan a trip or a fun activity that requires any degree of effort I always start out super excited. I consider myself an adventurous person. Then as the day draws closer I remember all the negatives about how sometimes traveling sucks. I remember changing diapers in airport bathrooms, vomit, messed up sleeping schedules, poopy blankies at the beginning of a long trip. When my children were young we lived overseas and I took them back and forth across the globe numerous times. All the hardships of traveling with babies has made me dislike traveling. Even if there are no more crying babies to take. 

                           

Lately I hate driving for more than an hour because my broken down body complains. The start of the hike is a six or seven hour drive from my house.

The biggie is that I feel guilty when I leave because when I’m gone the teenagers live on waffles and video games. Before that it was about how small babies don’t understand why mommy isn’t there. I have a huge of list of reasons why I don't need to have fun. 

 

The hike/climb/caving and ladder adventure required to get to Mooney Falls

                                                          The reward: Mooney Falls
I tell myself that I can just enjoy photos of where ever I’m going from the comfort of my own home. Or read a really good book about the place written by someone who has already been there. Talk about efficient! I love efficiency, it’s one of my favorite hobbies. Who really needs to go? I could save the traveling money and spend it on a good cause. I could feed the hungry and clothe the naked or feed the naked and clothe the hungry or... you get the idea. By now, most of you are probably encouraging me to go ahead and start in on those hundreds of hours of necessary counseling. Or wishing I would just stop rambling. Or both. So, I will finish this post by saying: go to the falls. Google it if you don’t have a sister/tour guide who’s been there numerous times. There are lots of helpful people in the land of internet. Get in shape to hike. Save your pennies or write it off as therapy. Whatever! It’s worth the trouble. And let me know when you’re going cause I’d love to return.

                                       Suzy and the stray

One of Sandi’s observations: If you never find a way to go skinny dipping in the real world (bathtubs and backyard pools don’t count) your life is incomplete. Let me rephrase in case you didn’t get that. Go skinny dipping or live an unfinished life. Just don't get yourself arrested.

The Hiking Hoarder

Last Monday two of my sisters and I trekked down the Grand Canyon to Supai Village (We missed you, Monica). We stayed at the lodge for two nights so we could spend the entire day on Tuesday hiking to the waterfalls. I love to hike but I’ve never carried more than a three-pound water pack around my hips. This time I had my son’s big time backpack. The kind that actually sticks up higher than my head. It didn’t look too bad when it was empty but after I packed, it looked as though I was hauling around a dead body. Or two. 

I always consider myself a light packer but I had to face reality on Monday night. That morning my pack registered 37 pounds on the scale, which didn’t sound like much to me. I figured my legs were accustomed to hauling around all 150 pounds of me so what’s another 37? I’m tough. I can rally. It’s only eight miles to Supai village. Mostly down hill. No problem.

It took about 15 minutes of hiking before I realized I had a problem. A big problem. My knees decided that an extra 37 pounds did indeed make a difference. I had to lean forward to stay upright and my back was telling me (loudly) to get the pack OFF! There was really no where to put the pack if I did take it off. Plus it was full of really important stuff that I surely needed.

It was a long and arduous hike and I seriously wondered if birthing any of my four children was as painful and long as that hike. I thought for sure I was going to end up as the hunch back of St. George.

The last mile I was in a daze and just kept urging my feet to keep on plodding along. When I passed the camper’s check-in spot they tried to call me in because they couldn’t imagine anyone carrying so much stuff to the lodge. I didn’t have a tent or a sleeping bag or a camp stove so what did I have that could possibly take up so much room?

We checked in, unloaded our packs and went to order dinner at the cafe before it closed. Then we went back and unpacked and I had an ahah! moment. I am a hiking hoarder. In my defense I will say that I packed a week early and threw in all kinds of snacks. Enough to share. Then I forgot all about that food and packed more the day before we left. Then I put all my healthy raw food in so I could feel good on this trip. Then I packed extra because I was quite sure that Audrey and Suzy would want to eat some too. We could all be healthy and eat raw food while communing with nature. I was so excited at the thought. In my excitement I forgot we wouldn’t be there very long. And that we were going to eat dinners at the cafe. And that my sisters may not want to eat raw food in place of Burritos, Oreos and M&Ms. 

In our lodge room it was like a magic trick where the magician just keeps pulling stuff out of his hat. Lots of stuff. All three of us were completely astounded at the amount of food I carried in.

Audrey, the experienced hiker, came in first place in the practical contest with a 12 pound backpack. She packed crackers and cheese, olives to go with her V8 and a small bag with her candy corn/peanut combo.

 
Suzy was in second place with a 20 pounder. Her food consisted of nuts, dried fruit, Oreos and her beloved uncrustables.

 
And then there’s me. The hiking hoarder. Who somehow brought enough clothes and food to stay two weeks without having to do laundry or forage for food. What was I thinking?

Just for the record, I ate all the kale chips myself and no one wanted any of my chia seed porridge for breakfast.
 
I did know there was no way I was going to carry that pack out again. I was still considering how upset my hubby would be if I ditched the professional grade backpack when we finally solved the problem. Arrangements were made. Cash was exchanged. Our packs would be going up on horseback when we hiked out. It was a gloriously light hike on the way up and out. Now if only I can figure out how to travel lighter in the future...

Waikiki Rough Water Swim Race Day

Hubby Brandon met me in Hawaii and we really enjoyed the week. We did touristy things and hang around and soak up the beach vibe stuff. I have to admit, I am more of a hang around on the beach person. Something about the ocean just renews me. 

Two days before the race I got in the ocean to stretch out and swim a few hundred meters. I was in waist deep water with people around me and I still couldn't get "shark week" images out of my head. My overactive imagination is not always helpful. I wailed to Brandon afterward that there was no way I was going to get into the deep end of the ocean when I was having such a hard time in the  shallow end. (Not to self: Do NOT watch shark week programs just days before an open water ocean swim.) He reassured me that it would be all right and I reminded myself that I went all the way to Hawaii to swim this race. No backing out now.

Labor day morning we walked from our hotel to the race start. It was fun to mingle with the other athletes and to feel the race day excitement again. 
 
At nine am the cannon sounded and the first wave of swimmers (green caps) took off. There were five groups, leaving five minutes apart, and I was one of the red caps in group two. It was a little crazy at first swimming out to sea but it thinned out after the first marker. It was a rough swim but I found myself enjoying the motion of the waves and the feel of being in the sea. We were out beyond where the waves broke so I didn't get any of the washing machine tumbling cycle like I had two days before while trying to surf. Brandon didn't think it was necessary to take a surf lesson but I'm going to disagree with him on that one.

The water was rough enough that the markers were hard to see. Every time I looked up I found myself off course and needed to swim back out some more. That meant a lot of zig zagging and I'm sure I swan at lease four miles instead of the 2.4 miles. Brandon had walked down to the finish line beach and took some photos of me on the home stretch. I'm number 466 in the middle of the photo:

After slowly running up beach to the finish line (jelly body) I clocked in at 1 hour and 22 minutes. Out of 900 swimmers I placed 321st. Which was 5th in the old lady division. Next year I'm breaking an hour and winning my age division. Who's swimming with me?

 

Cookie Monster on the Loose

Yesterday started out as another great raw day. Then Zoe made these fabulous lemon cookies. I wish I could say that I asked her not to bake them but I had actually pulled the butter out to soften. Part of me said I could handle it. I was feeling pretty confident, which is usually a mistake. (Humbled by my weakness serves me well.) The louder part of me said, “Don’t worry about a few cookies. It’s Sunday, your day off.”  

I made a lovely cashew and raw honey ice-cream with a few drops of orange essential oil in it. I figured that treat would keep me on the straight and narrow raw path. Alas, I discovered that the lemon cookie went beautifully with the orange honey ice-cream. It was a match made in heaven. More like a match made in Hollywood along the lines of Beauty and the Beast. I ate cookies and ice-cream for lunch. Then struggled to get back on track by eating a bunch of kale chips. Then I ate cookies and ice-cream for dinner and again for breakfast this morning. 

The beast was loose and I was having trouble getting him back in his cage. My cookie monster isn’t the cute, blue guy on sesame street. Sometimes he looks cute, and manageable and well trained. But that’s only when he’s locked up. Then I tend to forget about his bad behavior and fool myself into thinking it would be okay to let him loose. Just for a little while, maybe a cookie or two. I’m always quite sure I can get him back in the cage after two cookies. It usually ends up taking me a good two days or more. When will I learn?

Today I alternated my raw meals with cookies and ice-cream. In the evening I went out on my three-mile hiking trail and jogged the entire loop. First time ever! I was trying to burn off excess cookies but was also motivated because I had a late start and I’m scared of the dark. There was one steep down hill that I sort of walked down because I was afraid of twisting an ankle. This point in the trail is really in the middle of nowhere and I was phone-less. It probably would have taken hours before the kids realized I hadn’t come home and gone out to look for me. In fact, there’s a good chance they wouldn’t have missed me at all until breakfast tomorrow morning. But I felt really good on the trail and clocked my best time. Maybe a bowl of cookies and ice-cream is the new breakfast of champions? Aaaaaaaaaaaand maybe not.

Can't, Don't and Prayer

I'm doing really well on this raw food diet. This is so unlike me! Really. Maybe a person CAN change into a new and improved version of themselves. I've heard it's been done. It's very strange but this attempt at raw food hasn't felt as much like a hardship as usual. This seems to be what I want to eat rather than what I have to eat. (I think the raw desserts are helping!)

I heard somewhere that if you say, "I can't eat that because I'm on a diet" you will usually fall off the wagon. But if you say, "I don't eat that" you'll have a little more staying power. Maybe it comes down to how we view ourselves. I remember being offered a treat by a friend one day and I said, "No thanks, I'm not eating sugar right now." I remember how it felt. Empowering. As if I actually had a choice! She was almost as surprised as I was by my reply. It felt good. Now that I'm feeling pretty darn proud of myself-the confession. For some other strange reason, this raw food experiment feels like something I MUST do. For health, self-mastery, experimentation, self-esteem or for all of the above-I don't really know. It also, unfortunately, feels like something I CAN'T do. At least not by myself. I've got a string of failures a mile long to prove it. And so, before I spend too much time patting myself on the back I need to say thank you to my Heavenly Father. Because I've been praying desperately for help. And I've made progress. I think the two are related.

Day 3 147 pounds - down 3 pounds

B: kale chips
S: more kale chips
L: salad with romaine, cucumber, avocado, walnuts, cilantro, and the raw rio dressing
S: kale chips
D: more of the lunch salad
Dessert: raw vanilla cashew ice-cream with fresh sliced peaches on top (heaven)

Day 4  146 pounds - down four pounds
B: Bunny Spice shake which is made from 1 cup of fresh carrot juice, 1 cup of homemade almond milk (flavored with vanilla and a date), a frozen banana and a dash of cinnamon or a 1/2  teaspoon of pumpkin pie spice. This is almost like drinking a liquid pumpkin pie. Sweet, creamy and orange colored. Seriously yummy.
S: more of the Bunny Spice
L: salad with romaine, sunflower seeds, corn cut from the cob, cucumber, alfalfa sprouts, and my raw rio dressing.
S: the last of the cashew ice-cream and peaches

Costco Samples

Yesterday I was running dangerously low on avocados and dog food. I set out for my regular Costco run then stopped myself. It was lunch time, my favorite time for Costco. I have convinced myself that those tiny bite-sized samples don’t have enough calories to make a difference. Anything eaten while standing up, or even better yet while walking, doesn’t count. Common knowledge.  I’ve actually planned Costco trips around lunch time and brought kids (mine as well as others) with me to enjoy a free meal that involves no preparation or clean up. The kids get to try new foods but mainly just like to eat with their hands. Most of the sample providers are nice folks who just smile when you come back for seconds or thirds. If you’re fairly inconspicuous and allow a few minutes between visits (go ahead and do a full lap) they usually don’t even notice. If you’re feeling a little guilty you can just throw one of their demo items in your cart and all is forgiven. (Does this still constitute a free lunch?) Ultimately, all that fancy rationalization goes out the window when I leave the store feeling stuffed and a little yucky. Even with all that walking.

Anyway, I stopped myself from going. I chose to go in the evening instead. When all the nice sample providers were home entertaining their significant others with tales of people like me. Because what I am slowly, painfully becoming aware of is this: there ain’t no such thing as a free lunch.


Wednesday August 15th was my wedding anniversary. Twenty-six years ago I started my new life with hubby, Brandon. On wednesday, I started my new life without all my favorite rationalizations. Goodbye my lovely little enablers!

Day 1  weight:150

B: shake made with pears, spinach, ginger and rejuvelac.
S: more of the same shake
L: Big salad with romaine, corn, avocado, bell pepper, sunflower seeds, salsa, cucumbers, cilantro and my homemade cashew tomatillo dressing. This was a raw version of my beloved Cafe Rio dressing. Not the same but pretty darn good.
S: Kale chips. This batch was so good I even caught Makai eating a few. He usually makes gagging noises at the mention of anything raw.
D: Raw red bell pepper, pine nut, avocado and curry soup. Love, love, love my new Blendtec blender.

Hiked my 3-mile loop trail.

Day 2  weight: 148 - down two pounds in one day
B: shake made with cranberries, gogi berries, strawberries, cashews, coconut water, and chia seeds.
S: more of the same shake
L: Another awesome salad just like yesterday.
S: Kale chips
D: Same raw veggie soup from yesterday.

I swam 3,000 yards in the pool.

Note: After writing the Costco blog I went to Walmart. They now carry young Thai coconuts (good news) and they were giving out samples of fudge-covered oreos (bad news).

Waikiki Rough Water Swim

Doesn't this look fun?! Only four more weeks until I'll be swimming this race and hoping the sharks aren't hungry that day. If any one else decides to swim this thing I don't recommend you getting on youtube and watching all the videos of shark sightings at this beach. That really was not such a good idea. (I have an over active imagination to begin with.) There are quite a few people swimming this thing so, statistically speaking, if someone gets nibbled, it won't be me. I also decided it wouldn't be worth it to go all the way to Hawaii for just one day. My practical side kicked and and I will be enjoying a full week in paradise.

I've eaten mostly raw so far this month (Rawgust) and woke up this morning weighing 147 pounds. Going all raw the rest of the month so I will be swimming fast and will most likely be a smaller, sleeker piece of shark bait by September.
waikikiroughwaterswim.com

It's Just a Number

The meaningless number on the scale this morning was 149. A discouraging but well deserved 149. I’ve covered this before, (in the "Tell Me What You Eat" post) but I’m reconsidering the daily weigh-in plan. It is, after all, just a number.

I will not step on the scale numerous times a day. It’s just a number. I will not allow my moods to be altered by the stupid number. It’s just a number. I will not step on the scale every day. It’s just a number. I will only weigh myself once a week. It’s just a number. Once a week should be plenty. It’s just a number. I will judge my eating choices bases on my health and how I feel. It’s just a number. I will enjoy the slimming and strengthening effect of eating really well. It’s just a number. I am only going to weigh myself on Monday mornings!!! Starting next week... Or maybe the week after...

What I ate today:
B: green smoothie 

S: more of the same smoothie

L: big salad with walnuts, corn, avocado, cucumber, red bell pepper and salsa

S: blended veggie soup with cashew cream

PS I could weigh in every day as a reference point and just not worry so much about it. After all, it's just a number!

Too Much of a Good Thing

I ate a lot of food today. Although it was good, healthy food I went for both quality and quantity. I don’t remember too long a stretch today when I wasn’t shoving something in my face! If anyone on the planet could gain weight on a raw vegan diet it would be me. (It ended up not being a full raw diet today-more on that.)

Sadly, I did discover that my favorite coconut milk, chocolate and agave ice-cream is not actually raw. Vegan, yes. Delicious, yes. But not raw. Although I had suspected it for sometime now, I didn’t want to know the truth. It’s soooo good and soooo much better for you than any other commercial ice-cream out there. I can eat a whole pint without feeling sick and I can’t say that about Haagen Daz. I'm a teensy bit embarrassed to admit that I have this information on file in my brain because of trial and error rather than good old fashioned common sense.

Anyway,  I looked it up tonight on the internet (too much info out there) and decided to lay off for awhile, Naturally I had to finish the carton so there would be none around to temp me tomorrow. I can’t wait to see what the scale says in the morning. 

You've gotta try Coconut Bliss ice-creams. You can find the pints in health food stores and some well-stocked grocery stores. All the flavors are good but the dark chocolate is pure bliss!

Wednesday July 18th  woke up weighing 147 (down three pounds in two days)

B: apple, pear, banana, cucumber, spinach, and chia seed smoothie
S: More of the same smoothie
S: chocolate, coconut milk and agave ice-cream
L: Salad with walnuts, fresh salsa, raw corn off the cob and avocado
S: More of the same salad
S: chocolate, coconut milk and agave ice-cream
D: Strawberry, raspberry, mango and pomegranate juice smoothie (the Pom Power shake from The Orange Peel)
S: The last of the Coconut Bliss ice cream.

Raw, Raw, RAW!

Twenty years ago I was living on Lantau Island (Hong Kong) with my husband and two small children. I was sick, sick, sick. I had asthma, allergies and non-existent energy levels. I could barely make it up a flight of stairs without feeling faint. I was tired all the time but couldn’t sleep at night. I was convinced I was loaded with cancer or some other evil, yucky stuff and would most likely fall down dead in the near future. I even cried a few times thinking of how my two babies would grow up not knowing their mother. The doctor prescribed increasingly strong asthma and allergy meds which had their own set of side effects.

One day I took a ferry to the next island over, Peng Chau, to visit my friend Laura. I was explaining my mysterious health condition (most likely in a super whinny voice loaded with self pity) when she grabbed the book, “Fit For Life” off her shelf and told me to read it. Although I protested and argued with Laura about the merits of the diet, I was desperate enough to try anything.

A week later I felt like a new person. My invisible cancer had disappeared.  It was an Ahah! moment for me. I had never before made the connection between what I ate and how I felt.  Over the years I have found that eating a high raw or an all raw diet gives me super powers and rapid weight loss. So, here I go again in my attempt to blog about my raw food experiment. I will not beat myself up for less than 100 percent because I have found that pursuing perfection tends to back fire for me! 

I am also very inspired because my friend Laura is blogging about her raw food goal of losing 100 pounds in 90 days. She’s nearly half way there! For some laughs, insight and inspiration go to: hundredraw.blogspot.com 

Keep up the good work, Laura! 

Raw, Raw, RAW!

Independence Day

                      One of the fellow residents at Mom's home

I spent independence day among dependent people in a skilled nursing facility. Some of the residents were there because of accidents but most were there due to glitches in the aging process like the stroke that sent my mom to bed four years ago. The residents are dependent on oxygen tanks, tube feedings, wheel chairs and other people for everything from personal hygiene to entertainment. It’s hard to be there with my mom. It’s even harder to imagine myself living in a place like that one day. The staff is wonderful and treat mom with love and respect but the place still reeks of despair and broken down bodies.

Mom taught me how to be independent by example. She left her home country of Germany as a 17-year old and ventured off into a foreign land alone. She learned English by watching TV and was planning her next around the world adventure when she met my dad. Fast forward 50 years and five kids later. She’s an empty nester, socially active in her community, enjoying the peace and quiet she’s earned but trades in for time with her grandkids. 

Mom was an active, vibrant 70-year old when her life irrevocably changed in a matter of minutes. On 8/8/08 my parents came to visit us at my home in Panguitch. At 1:30 am my dad found her laying on the floor and was unable to wake her up. After a CT scan, Dr. Mooney told us she had had a stroke caused by a brain hemorrhage. It was humungous, he said in layman’s terms. The kind you don’t survive. She was suddenly dependent on machines to keep her alive. Terms like, “vegetative state” were thrown around with what I consider reckless abandon.  

But she showed them. A few months later she was speaking some, communicating much and slowly regaining some of the movement she had lost to paralysis. We were all planning the day she would be ready to walk out of the hospital, celebrate her recovery, and show the doctors that miracles do indeed exist. 

That day never came but humungous stroke number two did. Tube feedings, fresh tracheotomies and paralysis followed.

Although we all hear stories of 95-year-old lifetime smokers, common sense tells us they are not the norm. Based on our family medical history I probably don’t have the live-an-independent-life-till-I’m-100 gene. The thought of someone else having to wipe my bum one day makes me wonder: do I have any say so in the matter?

If I trade my junk food for greens will it extend my independence? Improve my quality of life? Allow me to keep enough functional gray matter to solve my sudoku puzzles? Will my food choices today keep me out of that place?

I do believe there is a critical link between nutrition and health. Unfortunately there is often a large gap of time between the two. As a senior in high school I had a pint of Baskin Robbins ice-cream every night for dinner on the way home from swim team practice. I’m feeling it now, thirty years later. Which makes me think that if I want to be a vibrant, independent 70 year old, I should prepare for it right now. 

                                 I love you Mom

One Good Day

This is a double batch of Ani's Spicy Bok Choy Soup* before and after I blended. Yummy! The recipe is at the end.

I'm starting over again at my bungee cord weight of 150. It seems like no matter how long I’ve been good, I always end up at 150 after a day or two of bad. I defy physics and simple mathematical calorie counts.

Of course if I look at my notes (I record what I eat) I will see that I usually have three or four good days followed by two or three bad days. Which are then followed by good/bad days where I am struggling to get back on track with one foot still in the ice-cream grave. That period can last a while before something kicks in and I pull off some good days again. So it’s probably a miracle I’m not 250 pounds since I can do a heck of a lot of damage on my bad days. 

It’s just soooo unfair!!! It’s the hormones, the kids, the temptations during grocery shopping, the discouragement and all the evil people pushing treats on me in the name of kindness. I haven’t even begun to describe what it’s like to live next door to Sydney who bakes some super yummy cookies nearly every Sunday afternoon and delivers them to my door, still warm from the oven. And thus I whine and complain of how difficult it is to chase the skinny dream in a female, forty plus body. I’m not going to think about how I want to eat for the rest of my life. Or about how I want to do a 30-day raw food experiment. The focus is on healthy, not skinny. If you do healthy right, you usually end up more on the skinny side as a side effect. For now, I’m just going to focus on one good day. 

Monday 6/18/12  150 pounds

I started Ani’s 15-day raw food fat blast. I followed the menu with just a few unathorized additions of a Twix bar, a half cup of spaghetti (kids’ dinner) and a serving of yesterday’s pear crisp. Other that that I did her menu perfectly!

Breakfast: Blueberry Blast

Snack: Pineapple Green Shake

Lunch: Spicy Bok Choy Soup *

Dinner: Tomato Bisque

Today: One Good Day!  149 pounds  (Down 1 pound in 1 day)

Breakfast: Simple Strawberry Shake

Snack: Apple Green Mar-tea-ni

Lunch: Ginger Soup

Snack: More Strawberry Shake

Dinner: Marvelous Minestrone

Snack: More Soup

Spicy Bok Choy Soup:

1 cup bok choy, chopped, loosely packed

1 cup cucumber, diced, from about 1 whole

1/2 avocado

1 TB miso

1/4 jalapeno peper, seeds removed

1 to 2 cups of filtered water (I used hot water for a nice warm soup)

Lowering the Bar

 
I keep trying to do this 30-day raw food experiment but I always give up or nose dive into cupcake land. I should just call it a day and accept who I really am: a sugar junkie through and through. I once went to an AA meeting in an attempt to conquer this addiction. Everyone took their turn saying, “my name is so and so. And I’m an alcoholic.” When it was my turn I said, “My name is Sandi and I don’t know what I am.” Everyone laughed but I was serious. Am I really a sugar junkie or is it an excuse to eat whatever I want? It seemed silly or even a little disrespectful to compare my addiction to theirs. But on an honest day I will acknowledge that eating lots of sugar affects my health, my ability to handle stress and my personality, which affects my life and the lives of those close to me. I eat it when I know I shouldn’t and when I don’t want to eat it. Whatever you want to call it, I will master this thing. I will be the captain of my soul and the guardian of my health.

This goal of eating only healthy raw vegan food for 30-days haunts me. Not when I’m sleeping or alone in a big house but nearly every time I’m stuffed with junk and feeling crappy. It’s a goal that won’t let me go and one I WILL reach one day (or die trying!) My twinner, Suzy, tells me not to try such a hard thing because it inevitably leads to failure. She encourages me to start smaller. Baby steps. She may be on to something. If I’m unable to make it through a week without sugar it makes no sense to skip that step and move on to something harder. I’m failing multiplication so lets move on to Algebra! Good plan? Not.

With my long and colorful past of dieting flops this  30-day goal of mine seems a bit extreme. Maybe I need to lower the bar a bit and work my way up.

 A big part of my lack of success is my lack of planning. I just figure I will eat what sounds good at the time, which means I eat a lot of raw desserts for dinner! Or I make something with whatever I have in the house which tends to get me into a uncreative rut. Another one of my problems is that I can’t seem to find 30 days that don’t include holidays, birthdays, parties or some other event that traditionally trips me up. I was pondering this quandary as I walked into the library a few days ago. I stopped at the display of books in front of me and picked up the first book that caught my eye. It was: Ani’s 15-day Fat Blast
I didn’t even know this book was out but boy am I excited. Whenever I want a yummy, easy to prepare raw dish I often end up in Ani Phyo’s book, Ani’s Raw Food Kitchen. She just does good stuff. In this new book she’s done all the work for me, except for the eating of course. The menu, the recipes, the philosophy, the reasoning behind the menu and the encouragement. I told my sister-in-law, Kim, about it and she’s game! We are starting Monday, June 11, 2012. We’re doing the 15-day raw food fat blast which seems more doable. I will follow Ani’s plan exactly. Try the recipes without substitutions or additions. She’s done all the thinking for me so it should be a no-brainer.
This feels like a good step toward my DIY 30-day raw trial. For now, lowering the bar might be the perfect way to reach new heights.

Hell Hole 10K

On May 12th the city of Washington, Utah (just outside of St George) sponsored a 5k and 10k as part of their week-long cotton days. I'd seen the posters around but never thought of entering it. Although I'm still in the conversion process, I'm really not a runner yet.

Then, last week my friend Yvonne called me and said she was running the Hell Hole 10K and asked me if I wanted to play. I googled it and got excited about the scenic path along the river. Plus, I figured I wouldn't need to get up too early since it's close to home.  I'm not in shape to run a 10K but I knew I'd get a great workout if I participated. When I set out to do a long "run" on my own I end up walking the whole thing. Funny how that happens. It was a nice morning with great weather and a fun crowd. The course didn't disappoint until I got to the stinky part of the river! For the most part it was quite enjoyable with hills and twists and a nice stretch along the Virgin river.

I walked about half of the first two miles and then jogged the remaining four. That was pretty good for me and I was surprised at how relatively easy it was. That easy pace took me an hour and 7 minutes to finish but it's all good! Yvonne got second in her division and won a gift certificate to the Pizza Factory. Yeah Yvonne!

30-Day Raw Food Trial

"We cannot solve our problems with the same thinking we used when we created them."

Albert Einstein

I need to figure out how to make it work this time. I keep trying and failing or quitting. Then I wait for a moment of intense motivation to start another attempt. But they always end the same way. Because nothing has really changed except how I feel at that moment. I usually get really motivated to try again when I'm completely full, or recovering from a binge, or discouraged about body image and lack of self control. I rarely (okay, never) decide to "be good" when my daughter has created a batch of her super delicious cookies. That's usually when I decide I'm due for a "free day."

 So, after getting a bit of advice from Albert, I've decided to change my mind. Not the way I usually do which means regretting a decision, revisiting that decision, changing everything and then starting that process over again. But actually changing my mind by re-writing the script.

First I need to identify the thinking that gets me into trouble. Much of this thinking I've picked up along the way unintentionally. It comes from the media and from childhood observations made with a young, undeveloped mind. I have noticed that the longer I've had certain thoughts, the harder it is to get rid of them. They hide in the dark corners and multiply when I'm not looking. Kind of like cockroaches.

Old thinking:
I'll start the healthy eating thing at the beginning of the month.
I'll start on Monday.
I'll start tomorrow.
I'll start just as soon as I eat this treat that I want right now. And it's okay to eat it because I'm starting a good eating plan immediately afterwards.  (Needless to say I've put on a lot of weight preparing to eat better!) It's like the hcg diet where I'm great at the loading part but not so great at the "quit loading" part.
Just one bite won't hurt.
I've had a hard day so deserve to eat this garbage.
What I eat doesn't really matter anyway.
I'm just going to fail so why suffer any longer? (usually said in front of some temptation)

New thinking:
I'm not "starting" anything. I'm just treating my body better.
There's no time like the present!
"Treats" really make me feel worse after I eat them, mentally and physically.
I am the one who is responsible for my health.
I want to nourish my body with healthy, real foods.
When I nourish my body I also nourish my soul.