existential dilemmas

Life is not a problem to be solved, but a reality to be experienced. – Kierkegaard

eight…

Posted on September 13, 2007 by chloe elizabeth

Hannah tagged me, so here we go. Eight random facts about me…this might be a bit difficult since I feel like I share my random facts all the time.

I love chocolate milk, but only when it’s Nesquik in powder form mixed with milk. It’s delicious. And it’s part of my favorite breakfast (okay…after Swedish pancakes) of a toasted English muffin (Thomas’…toasted under the broiler, not in the toaster) and two eggs over easy. I don’t know when that breakfast started being made in my family, but I love it. I purchased some Quick (the “no sugar added” version) last night and had some chocolate milk before bed. So good.
I love scary movies. Not gruesome, gory movies. But the truly terrifying movies with so much suspense you have to cover your eyes in order to survive.
Roller coasters that make my stomach drop and fear for my life at the same time are my favorite.
I ran with the bulls in Spain (okay, way ahead of the bulls, but I did almost get mauled by one of the bulls while in the arena…I had never before and have never since hopped a fence so quickly in my entire life).
I see words in my head. Every word I say goes through my mind like a ticker at the bottom of a t.v. screen. And, if I can’t see a word , as in I have no idea how to spell it and no guesses, I often can’t say it.
I envy very odd things about people. I had this fantastic British secretary for a while who totally looked like she belonged in a band…it was mainly the way she dressed. I envy those girls who can pull off that style. I cannot. I will never look like I belong in a band. I will never be able to pull off skinny jeans with a cute t-shirt and flats…and it’s not a body issue, it’s a persona issue.
I put ice in my milk almost without fail…unless it is very, very cold.
When I was just a baby, I broke off a piece of my sister’s toy telephone and it got lodged in my throat and I had to have a tracheotomy in order for the doctors to a) find the piece of clear plastic and b) remove it. You can still see the scar very well (although not so much in pics). I scar easily and horribly.

weight watchers weekly – week 14

Posted on September 7, 2007 by chloe elizabeth

Here’s the thing. As you all know, I did really well last week. With all of the stress of studying and my total dedication to running, I managed to just count my points and do my thing which resulted in a 1.2 lb loss. But then, something happened.

At first, I thought it was just about my little brother and family being in town, however, as the week wore on, and said little brother, wife and baby left, I realized there was something else going on. I just couldn’t get my eating back on track. First it was the pre-GMAT supper, then the post-GMAT celebration. After that, Sunday happened and we had family dinner with my aunt, cousins and grandmother. Then it was Labor Day and Justin, Cherity and Tannon’s last day in town, which made eating out a requirement. Tuesday was the first day of the semester (an overwhelmingly crazy day at work), so I rewarded myself with dinner and ice-cream. And then I ran out of excuses…other than the week was already shot, so why not live it up? Which is how Panda Express and two scoops of ice cream happened on Wednesday. And today, well, I’m not sure what the deal was today. Maybe the knowledge that I wasn’t going to go to my meeting. Maybe it was knowing that I would be back on track tomorrow. In any case, today was quite the day, as well. Why must I love ice cream so very, very much?

I missed my meeting tonight because I had somewhere else I needed to be…and I’m out of money and I need to pay to be weighed. Torture upon torture. As expected, Jenny called and left a message (as I was indisposed) to find out how the meeting had gone (a conversation that I eagerly anticipate every week). So after I was done with my evening and on my way home, I called her back and told her that I hadn’t gone. As I was recounting the indulgences of my week, I came to an interesting realization…and that is why I love good friends and good conversation. It is often in moments of confiding in one’s friends that clarity comes.

Here’s the realization. Last week I dropped below THE weight. Now, this is not a weight that is significant to anyone but me…but in my world, it is a beast to be reckoned with. My whole life, there has been a magic number where my body really, really likes to reside. I hate that number, but it is comfortable. I know how to be that weight. I know I’ve talked about knowing how to be fat and the fear of being something different, but it is that weight, that number, that really embodies my fears. I have never maintained a weight below that one. I have been thinner, for sure, up to 25 lbs thinner, but it is always short lived.

I am scared. And while stress rarely induces eating, fear almost always does. And the fear of failure is probably the biggest fear that exists chez moi. I am terrified of failure. This fear has paralyzed me at different points in my life; it has kept me “safe” for many, many years. This year has been my year of staring fear in the face and telling it to eff-off. Yes, that’s how strongly I feel about it…which is why it took so long for me to realize what was going on.

If I were to stop the weight loss journey now, I know I could maintain this weight. There’s very little risk. Sure, I could gain weight, but chances are slim with as much as I exercise. But, if I continue on this path, then failure is a possibility. A very, very real possibility. And I cannot fail this time around. My entire year has been about success. I stared down my fear of being alone and called off my wedding. I decided once and for all that I was going to run a marathon, and I’m doing it. And, while I know I’m not in grad school just yet, I finally let go of my fear of it. I know this may all sound crazy, but as one who revels in the safety of certain success, I just don’t do things where failure is a possibility.

Epiphany! As I write! I have always succeeded at losing weight because I make that my goal and I know I will do it because that’s what I do…achieve my goals. I have never thought to make keeping weight off my goal. Something to think about.

Back to my point. I am scared of losing more weight than I have lost. It ties in to my fear of not being fat, but it’s a bit different. I still fear a world where I feel average in the weight department. I don’t know what it will be like. I won’t have the “filter” of my body. You see, all you beautiful, thin people out there, there’s something you don’t realize about those of us who aren’t so blessed…at least in my mind (I realize that not everyone shares my opinion on this one). We rarely have to worry about someone being after us for our bodies…well, unless that’s we’re the type they are attracted to, but I have yet to encounter one of those. Sure, people find us attractive, but it’s not usually the source of the initial attraction. I hope you are all reading this the way it’s meant. I do not mean that someone has to “overlook” my body to find me attractive, just that my body is not what is going to make someone interested in me. Does that make sense?

Anyway, I have a fear of losing the “filter”. I like knowing that when a guy is interested in me, it’s about me and not the way I look. But what I am afraid of right now is losing the weight…and then finding it again. And you know when hindsight is 20/20 and all of the pieces fall into place. That’s what happened during my conversation with Jenny tonight. My eating and lack of exercise this week (minus running 18 miles on Monday) didn’t stem from celebration or stress. The culprit was fear…fear of failure.

And knowledge begets choices. I can quit and be content to be the me I’ve always been. Or I can keep going, knowing that I am heading into uncharted territory, knowing that I have never been thinner than I am today without some kind of eating-disorder-induced weight loss.

Of course, you know what my answer is. I must keep going. I must sit with my fear and move on. This journey has been an absolutely amazing process so far. I have lost 25 lbs (well, perhaps a little less than that as of today, but since I no longer have a scale, I’m not sure), but more importantly, I have found myself, and my insecurities and fears and, like the Easter egg hidden so well it is only noticed once it begins to rot, I believe that fears and insecurities cannot be discarded until they are discovered.

I had no idea when I began Weight Watchers 14 weeks ago what I was in for. I thought that I would lose weight and finally do it in a physically healthy way. Had I realized the emotional ramifications at the time, I’m sure I would have managed a way to feign happiness with my weight in order to avoid the struggle. While physical pain has never bothered me much, I will avoid emotional pain at almost any cost. But it’s a little late for that. I am on the road and removing myself, at this point, just wouldn’t make much sense. My innocence has been lost and it cannot be regained.

And with that…GAME ON!

the thoughts in my head

Posted on September 6, 2007 by chloe elizabeth

I think fashion education should be part of basic education. Like, there are certain styles that don’t look good on certain body types. Everything in the photo above is wrong (I love that I found a reason to post this picture). Nylons (stockings, pantyhose, whatever you want to call them), should not be worn with sandals and socks should not be worn with pumps, and pumps should not be worn with sweat pants (especially cropped ones) and tube tops should not be worn with…anything. And knee highs always make a statement, and that statement is usually, “What the hell were you thinking?”

I forgot how much I love that I speak French. And when I say love, I mean love. Seriously. I’m only taking one class this semester with all of the grad school applying that needs to be happening, and that class is French for Business. I started to get really nervous yesterday, before class. It’s been 6 years since I took any kind of French class. Sure, I have the occasion to speak/read/hear it now and then, but not for 75 minutes straight and not the parlance of business. So, while introducing myself and sharing my background made me really, really nervous, I was so pleased to discover that I understood my professor perfectly…jokes and all. I don’t know how many of you speak a foreign language, but there is something so amazing about getting jokes in another language. I love it. I love speaking French. I love that, because of my GMAT score, I might be able to go to a school that offers an exchange with a French school. I love that I might be able to go work in France for a few years. I’m just excited.

The world is such a small place…especially when you’re taking an advanced language course at the university I’m at. There’s a girl in my class who went to Madagascar on a mission for my church. I was curious to know if she perhaps knew Cropstar, as that’s where she went on a mission, as well. Turns out she’s really good friends with her.

I have a work crush. It makes my daily life much more enjoyable. And the best part is, he will never become a possibility because I’m not only not interested in him (I don’t know him well enough, nor will I, to ever be truly interested and I have no intention of sharing with anyone who it is because, well, that’s the only way to ensure that my work crush doesn’t turn into an awkward and uncomfortable situation…as they are wont to do when you tell someone), but I am also not interested in a relationship period, which brings me to number five.

For the first time in my life (okay, not life, but the last, oh, 15 years), I am really not interested in dating. At all. It’s a strange feeling. I wish I could explain it. It’s peaceful, and happy, and calm. With this whole grad school thing, I have felt really strongly that that is where my focus should be. Period. And I’ve also felt that there won’t be any boys during the next three years of my life (and yes, I will always refer to them as boys…it’s a family trait…but I do mean “men”). Well, there will be boys, but not in that sense. I know that might sound weird and I know things can change, but for right now, that’s how I feel. I love it.

I went to a religion class last night. It’s a bunch of single people from several different wards/congregations. It was fantastic. My former bishop is teaching it. He is amazing. My favorite thing about him is that he is real. There’s no sugar coating. There’s no pretending that life is always sunshine and roses. But he’s not a Debbie Downer, either. He’s just real. He was talking about reading the Old Testament from cover to cover tonight and basically said it was an excruciating experience. How could I not love a class taught by this man? I so value real.

While I’m excited about my prospects in the school department, I’m also terrified. I’m scared of being a little fish in a big pond. I’m scared of failing. I’m scared of not getting into the school I want to go to, but I’m also scared of getting into it. Basically, I’m just scared. But fear has never stopped me, so onward I go.

I was driving around yesterday thinking about how much I enjoy driving and then thinking about how much I will miss having a car if I move to New York or Chicago. While I have lived without one and I actually really enjoy public transportation (when it’s good and convenient), I love the solitude of driving. Then I thought about going to the Met and just sitting for hours in front of a painting. Perhaps I won’t miss driving as much as I think I will.

I’m not going to WWs today. Not because I don’t want to. Sure, I’ve had a week full of crappy food consumption, but for the first time ever, I just don’t care. Not in an “I don’t care if I’m fat” way, but a “Yes, I am human and I am finally willing to admit it…for five minutes” way. I just have something to do that supersedes the WW. I do have some thoughts, though, so I’ll go ahead and share those during my regularly scheduled post.

I’m going to be auntie…again. Which I already knew, but yesterday was the ultrasound and they found out that “it” is a “she”. I’m going to have a new niece. They have a name all picked out. I won’t be sharing it because it’s not mine to share, but it’s very cute.

18 miles…with the end in sight

Posted on September 5, 2007 by chloe elizabeth

Due to the aforementioned GMAT, my long run was postponed until Monday. Sad that I literally changed a trip to California in order to take the GMAT during a long weekend so that I wouldn’t miss my long run. I should be committed…not I am committed (which I am), but I should be committed.

Anyway, I went to bed relatively early Sunday night, so I thought I would be good to go Monday morning, but I was wrong. First of all, I set my alarm too early. Remember the last time I ran super early in the morning, before it started to get light? Well, I felt no need to relive that experience, so when I saw, at 5:30, that it was still pitch black outside, I hit snooze. I’m amazed at the effect the snooze button has on my mind. As soon as I allow myself to think, “Hmm, maybe I don’t have to get up right now,” my mind decides to take that thought and run with it. During the hour and a half I spent lying in my bed, hitting the snooze button every eight minutes, I thought of every reason I didn’t need to get up and spend 3.5 hours on my feet, running.

I was tired. My head hurt. I had eaten way too much crap on Sunday…and Saturday…and Friday for that matter. I had a mild case of heartburn (one more reason to eat healthy food). My little brother and his family were in town and I could spend more time with them. I haven’t slept in for over 4 months, unless 8:00 on Sunday counts. With as late as it was getting, it was sure to be hot by the time I was done. What on earth made me think running a marathon was a good idea? No one would think I was a bad person for not choosing to run 18 miles.

But then this little voice, the voice that has seen me through every tough decision I’ve ever made, the voice that drives me to keep going even when I’m sure I’m going to fail, started to whisper, “You can do this. You want to do this. You live for these runs.” And then the whisper got louder, “When have you ever let a little headache stop you. Think about how you will feel this afternoon if you don’t run. Think of how amazing you will feel after you have. Remember when you were at the park last night and you were telling Justin and Cherity that, in the morning, you would be running from two miles further up the canyon all the way down to Utah lake and Justin said that he wouldn’t even drive that far to meet someone for lunch? Remember how good it felt when you thought about the fact that your body can run that far?”

Pretty soon it got loud enough to be really irritating, “You are not a quitter. You are a runner. You are a doer. You are not lazy. You feel bad about all of the crap you’ve eaten, but think of how much worse you will feel if you don’t run. If you get up now, you’ll be done before 12. It won’t be that hot and the last few miles are pretty well shaded. Get up, eat a little something, take a couple of Ibuprofen and get on with it already. You know you are going to do this, so why are you putting it off? It’s only going to make it worse.”

My mind beat my matter. As it always does. I often laugh after conversations such as these because they are truly an exercise in futility. My matter rarely ever wins and, frankly, arguing with my mind is pretty exhausting, especially because it totally prohibits any kind of rest that might otherwise be enjoyed. But, being the stubborn mule that I sometimes can be, I often try the arguments out, just to make sure I’m not losing my debating skills.

So, after much discussion (in my head…yes, I’ve already told you, I’m slightly crazy) I got out of bed, ate half a Cliff Bar, took two Ibuprofen, got dressed, gathered up my gear and I was off. I headed up the canyon and started to feel more and more excited about the prospect of having run (yes, being done with) 18 miles. While the running was a little painful at first (I really did eat a ton of crap all weekend long…something that often happens when my siblings are in town…only because I think it’s an excuse), the scenery was amazing. There was a whole little family of deer at the end of the road where I begin my run. The trees have already started to turn and the colors were absolutely gorgeous. My lack of desire to run was superseded by the sheer beauty of what I was seeing.

I know this isn’t the greatest pic, but all I had was the camera phone.

And then the endorphins started to kick in. Not like a runner’s high, but just a mild euphoria…less from running than from thinking about how blessed I am to be able to run in such a beautiful place, to be able to run at all. I thought about Anne and her knee pain and how lucky I have been when it comes to my lack of injury. It was one of those perfect moments. I would have been so sad to miss it. And then I spent the next three hours formulating essays in my head…you know, for all of my grad school applications. I thought about living in all of these different places. I thought about new opportunities. I thought, and thought, and thought some more. As one who thoroughly enjoys daydreaming, running is an ideal forum. I get to think to my heart’s content without feeling that I should really be doing something else.

I finally made a new playlist and that was quite enjoyable. I took the run a little slower and only took a walking break every other time a slow song rolled around. My pace was nice and steady. I did have a cramp in my left arch from mile 8 on, but it wasn’t really painful, just a bit uncomfortable. When you’re running for that long, your feet are bound to get a little upset. I drank less that usual, having discovered during last weekend’s half-marathon that there is such a thing as too much water. I ate fewer blocks, having eaten half a Cliff Bar pre-run. I feel like I got some good fine tuning done.

One of my favorite parts of the run was this biker. Apparently he had seen me when he was heading up the canyon, and then he passed me on his way down and he turned to look at me and stuck his fist in the air. You can picture it; a kind of “you go girl” air-punch. I saw biker dude about a mile later again. He was off to the side of the trail chatting up some other biker. As I ran past, I could see he was trying to talk to me. I pulled a headphone out of one ear to listen to hear him say, “Wow, I cannot believe how far you have run. That was you I saw up near South Fork, right? I am impressed.” That one comment got me through the next ten miles. It’s amazing how a few simple words of praise can do so much.

The last few miles were hard. I was exhausted. It was hot. I forgot to put on sunblock. My water was warm. I just wanted to be done…and then, finally, I saw 18.00 miles and I was done. How I’m going to manage to run 26.2 miles, I still haven’t figured out…but I know I’ll do it, because that’s who I am, that’s how I’m wired.

Playlist:

Freedom 90 6:30 George Michael
Mr. Brightside 3:41 The Killers
Glamorous (Feat. Ludacris) 4:06 Fergie
Witch In The Ditch 3:44 Erasure
what about us 3:57 Brandy
Colors 2:41 Amos Lee
Simply Being Loved 4:21 BT
Dance Dance 5:02 Fall Out Boy
Get Over It 3:16 ok go
Gotta Go My Own Way 3:44 High School Musical 2
Failsafe 2:39 The New Pornographers
Baby Hold On 5:04 Way Dixie Chicks
Senorita 4:34 Justin Timberlake
Porcelain 3:58 Moby
SexyBack 4:02 Justin Timberlake
Hysteria 3:47 Muse
Summer Love 4:15 Justin Timberlake
No One Is to Blame 3:59 Emile Millar
Hot ‘n’ Cold Pussycat 4:11 Basement Jaxx vs.
Sunday Bloody Sunday 4:40 U2
Glamorous (Feat. Ludacris) 4:06 Fergie
Irreplaceable 3:47 Beyoncé
Summer Love 4:15 Justin Timberlake
Breathe Me 4:35 Sia
Clothes Off 3:55 Gym Class Heroes
Workout Plan 2:52 Kanye West
Standing Outside A Broken Phone Boo… 5:39 Primitive Radio Gods
How We Operate 5:28 Gomez
Changes 4:29 Tupac Shakur
Lost In This Moment 3:37 Big & Rich
beautiful love 4:09 The Afters
Senorita 4:34 Justin Timberlake
Gotta Go My Own Way 3:44 High School Musical 2
Chicago 6:12 Sufjan Stevens
Adventures in Solitude 4:18 The New Pornographers
Waiting in Vain 5:40 Annie Lennox
Failsafe 2:39 The New Pornographers
Give It to Me 3:32 Timbaland featuring
Faster Kill Pussycat 3:14 Oakenfold
No Apagues la Luz 3:49 Enrique Iglesias
Open Your Heart 4:13 Madonna
On My Mind 4:10 Kalai
Under Pressure 4:03 Queen & David Bowie
When You Were a Starlight 4:11 Team9 vs. The Killers
Forever 3:51 Live
Glamorous (Feat. Ludacris) 4:06 Fergie
Senorita 4:34 Justin Timberlake
Fields of Gold 3:33 Sting & Edin Karamazov
i didnt steal your boyfriend 3:04 ashlee simpson
The Call 3:26 Backstreet Boys
I Still Remember 4:23 Bloc Party
My Console 4:17 Eiffel 65
Video 4:15 India Arie
Time 4:08 Chantal Kreviazuk

P.S. I’ve discovered that I would rather listen to a song that I’m “in the mood for” three times, than put on a different one, that I’m not loving as much, just for variety. I’m the girl who can listen to the same song 500 times in a row and not get sick of it.

time out

Posted on August 25, 2007 by chloe elizabeth

I interrupt what would have been a post about the half-marathon I ran this morning (excellent!), to tell you that I am taking a blog break. In exactly one week from today, I will be taking the GMAT. This is the entrance exam for business school (think SAT on steroids). I finished my prep class on Wednesday, and now it’s time to make sure that I have the formulas, mnemonic devices and strategies I will need to blow this test out of the water fully integrated into my brain…no, my being. I need to eat, sleep, and breathe GMAT for the next week. And since, as most of you know, I am the queen of productive procrastination (yes, I do think bogging productive), I am announcing the break so that you all know that I am not supposed to be blogging. This includes commenting. So, if you “catch” me doing it, feel free to call me on it.

In the meantime…wish me luck. And don’t worry, the Weight Watchers and training updates will still happen, you’ll just have to wait until Saturday or Sunday.