Despite Monday feeling colder than the thermometer claimed, after school I grabbed Jeter and headed to the golf course for a walk. It is my goal, you know, to give him the best life a dog has ever known and he needed the exercise. We were greeted by a small herd of dogs, with labradors already well represented, and devoted a few minutes to playtime before heading to one of our favorite wooded trails.
As we walked, I was aware of soreness in my legs from the 15K I had run the previous day. My quads particularly felt tight and I was glad I had made the effort to get out and give them a stretch. My hands, warm in cozy gloves, also felt tight. I’ve really been struggling with jar lids, jewelry clasps and tasks which require dexterity and it’s making me kind of nervous. Unlike my legs which only talk to me after a long or aggressive run, the pain in my hands is unpredictable. Some days I struggle to fasten buttons or Jeter’s leash, while other days I have almost no issues. Sometimes, though, I accidentally bang my hand and the discomfort (see how I try to avoid saying “pain?”) takes my breath away. It’s on the list of topics to discuss at my upcoming physical.
What do you do when your body begins complaining about your actions? Do you work harder to keep things moving? Modify your activities? Address the objections with a pill or two? Maybe you use some magical combination of all of the preceding to muscle through? What are the options when slowing down isn’t a choice?
As late fall inches closer to winter and the days get shorter, I’ve fallen in love again with running. Last night’s run was pretty satisfying. My thoughts were as strong as my legs, the temperature was perfectly crisp and the air was scented with wood smoke. It was a pleasure.
Sometimes running feels really difficult. It doesn’t always bring satisfaction, which is frustrating because when you work really hard at something you kind of expect it to get easier and feel good. But, when your right glute continues to scream and your left knee decides to tweak and it’s dark and cold, well, running can suck.
Last night, though, nothing hurt. My feet were warm, cradled in new socks, and didn’t seem to mind pounding the sidewalk for 5 miles. The comfort with my physical self freed me to consider my state emotionally and mentally – where I’m at and where I want to be. Am I satisfied with my one precious life? How can I make it more fulfilling? Do I need to make changes?
It’s just about time to flip a page on the calendar for the last time for the year. 2018 is right around the corner and I’m already looking forward to it. Every day we get a new chance to fall in love, every new year brings with it the possibility of it being the best one ever. I’m getting ready. Are you?
Each new allegation of sexual harassment brings with it an increased sense of disbelief – not because I doubt the women who are sharing their experiences in such remarkable numbers, but because I can’t help but be curious how so many men could possibly have believed their actions are acceptable. I wonder “who raised them?,” yet must admit that I’ve never had direct conversations with my own sons about boundaries and respect when it comes to physical interactions with others. I suppose I just thought that my children would understand that it is not ok to touch people without invitation. It’s basic, isn’t it?
Speaking of basic, using one’s hands adeptly is such an essential motor skill that I believe most of us take it for granted. You know, when you want to pick something up your brain sends the signal to your hands and they respond by reaching out for and gripping onto whatever it was that you wanted. To be clear, I’m talking about something innocuous like a glass or a pen, not a women’s genitalia or breasts. We’re talking about me now – not Roy Moore or Donald Trump.
Well, in recent months my hands have been less cooperative than Jeff Sessions testifying under oath. The thing is, though, unlike Sessions I can clearly recall how things were, how my hands used to behave…and I’m a bit distressed about it. Some days are better than others and there are times when my hands don’t hurt at all. Other times? The dexterity that I once knew and expected is simply no longer present. My hands ache, particularly in the fleshy area between my thumbs and my wrists, and it feels like my fine motor skills are shot.
So, I’m a bit concerned naturally. Maybe it’s arthritis or a touch of carpal tunnel. I’m not certain, but I’ll be discussing it with the doctor at my next physical in the new year. I can accept my own stiff and uncooperative hands as a natural side effect of getting older, but as far as women continuing to be victimized by men who choose to not maintain control over their own hands? Yeah, that’s something to which I will always throw up my hands. I hope you will, too.
Why don’t drivers open their car windows on beautiful days? I suppose some may have allergies or might be on a call, but it seems like lots of folks don’t ever let fresh air in.
If we’re all just a moment from a terrible diagnosis, an accident or a horrible tragedy how can we make today count?
How is it possible for so many people to believe in Donald Trump? What does he have to do before his followers will accept that he is unfit for office?
Does anyone else think that time is simply moving too fast? I miss the days when summers felt so long that I was convinced the flowering shrubs bordering our driveway bloomed twice.
Why does leaving my phone at home when I take a walk or go to dinner feel like a rebellion? Is it really necessary for us all to be instantaneously reachable?
When will we stop fighting about civil rights and access to health care and higher education? What makes anyone believe that they’re more deserving of any of these things than anyone else?
Do you miss civility and manners like I do?
If you could time travel, which way would you go – back or forward?
One of the primary lessons we teach children is to share. How does that tenet get forgotten by so many greedy adults?
Why is life so hard for so many and how can I help to make it better?
After giving up vitamins and my apparently naturally high in fiber diet for a week, fasting and slamming water all damn day, I was literally brought to my knees yesterday. Yep, my colonoscopy prep was an epic fail due to an excruciating headache that caused me to repeatedly vomit before I could even begin ingesting the Miralax dosed Gatorade. Crap.
I’ve had what I self-diagnosed as migraines occasionally in the past, but not in a very long time. The one that manifested yesterday was the worst one I’ve ever had – it was totally crippling. The headache began midday and, if I hadn’t been on a restricted diet, I would have swallowed a couple of Excedrine and gotten on with my prep. Instead, I continued drinking water and a little lemonade and attempted to move forward with the plan. I took the oral laxatives and hoped for the best…the vomiting began a short time later.
I spent the remainder of the afternoon and evening alternating between bedroom and bathroom, never experiencing the “benefits” of the medication, nor drinking the necessary proscribed fluids. At about 9:00 p.m., I admitted defeat and called the doctor’s office to cancel my appointment.
This morning, instead of being clean as a whistle, I was physically drained in a different way. Moving forward, it looks like I’ll need an in office consult prior to rescheduling my colonoscopy and, more than likely, a visit with my cardiologist prior to the procedure. Oh – and I’ll probably need to have my colonoscopy performed in the hospital since my low blood pressure/heart rate requires more careful monitoring. What a pain in the ass, right?
This whole episode sucked, but it is an excellent reminder to me about the health challenges some folks deal with on a much more frequent basis than I. An inconvenient diet and some puking really aren’t much to endure in the grand scheme of things, right? I’m know that I’m incredibly lucky to be mostly healthy and in possession of quality health insurance. Hopefully things will come out next time just like they’re supposed to.
Filed under aging, medical, sick
Straining my high pulp oj this morning.
If you see me this weekend and I seem a little out of sorts, it might be from eating too much ice cream and pastry. I’m on a diet and limited to a menu of foods that I only truly enjoy in small doses – things like white bread, peanut butter, cookies and ice cream. You know, the diet of a typical two year-old. It’s a low fiber diet and apparently it’s necessary prep for a colonoscopy, something I’m looking forward to having on Monday. Looking forward to as in looking forward to getting it over and done with, that is.
I’m not a dieter. I don’t respond well to being limited, I guess. That being said, I’m an excellent moderator and generally eat pretty well. Breakfast is usually cereal with fruit, oj and coffee. Lunch is a salad or yogurt and fruit and dinner varies between some kind of protein or pasta with veggies. Turns out most of this stuff is fairly high in fiber and, thus, not allowed prior to a colonoscopy. Who knew that my typical diet was an innately high fiber one?
How do people not eat fresh vegetables and salad greens? Or cherries and raspberries in July? It seems that all of my favorite things are verboten and it’s making me cranky. I haven’t eaten canned asparagus since I was a child and, after years of roasting or grilling them, there’s no way I’m ever going back to that soggy mess, so it looks like I’ll be carb loading and sweet toothing it for the next few days. I have no interest in eating canned fruits, Cream of Rice (whatever the hell that is) or lima beans, waffles and ice cream are what it’ll be for the next couple of days.
Anybody have an extra quart of consommé in their freezer? Maybe some bouillon to spare?
One of the most exciting parts of owning a restaurant, for me, is conceiving and hosting events. The Ladies First party last fall and our New Year’s Day Open House, were two of my favorite afternoons spent at Lark + Lily in the near year (!) since we opened. Last Sunday I was fortunate enough to add a third such afternoon event to my chain of satisfying and happy hospitality experiences, yoga brunch.
Originally planned for August, but rescheduled for after Labor Day, our introductory yoga brunch had a reasonable attendance on a morning that threatened rain. I definitely went big in terms of food, but I’m pretty certain the menu was well received and enjoyed. It was challenging to know how much to prepare since Albany is such a last-minute town and people don’t necessarily honor commitments made without prepayment. I get that, but next time a deposit might be necessary to better help me have the appropriate amount of food available. Believe me, there was no hardship in taking a dozen bagels home for the Lilly boys and it seemed more than acceptable to stop at the St. James Firehouse on September 11th to drop off an extra dozen donuts.
Because I didn’t want to interfere with the kitchen’s well deserved weekend, I made myself responsible for the prep and kept things fairly simple by creating a spread of bagels, veggie cream cheese (thanks, John!), Cider Belly donuts, hard-boiled eggs, lots of fresh fruit, homemade granola and R&G’s fantastic yogurt and ricotta cheese. I think I’ll keep the format similar, maybe mixing up the carbs a little and keeping the fruit as seasonal as possible. It’s a fun little project for me that I really enjoy.
I didn’t get to take the class, unfortunately, but everyone came back from the park a bit flushed and more than a little livelier than they were before class. There are some great photos taken by Trudy that really capture the bliss of being outdoors on a late summer morning. Be sure to check them out and mark your calendars for our next class led by the wonderful Jammella – October 23rd. Keep an eye on the Lark + Lily Facebook page for more details.
Filed under Albany, Brunch, Eating, Events, Exercise, Local, Recommendations, Restaurants, Summer, sunday, Uncategorized