Week In Pictures

It's been ages since I've done a week in pictures post! As part of my goal of getting the creative juices flowing again, I set the intention this week of taking at least one picture each day. Lo and behold, I took more than one most days. Here they are.

Sunday:

Baaaaa.

Twelve Bridges Drive, looking out over the Sacramento Valley.

"New" books from the used bookstore. Bliss! Currently working my way
through Bel Canto.

Monday:

On Monday, Mom had one perfect purple tulip in the back yard.

And a little yellow one budding.

A sign pic, taken on the way to choir rehearsal.

At Sac State

Right outside the music building.

"Ooooh, are those Pretzel M&Ms? Gonna share?"

I think, if I'd let him, he'd have happily licked out what remained of
my protein shake.

Tuesday:

You know the story here...

My new dress for Easter. I probably won't button the cardi, though.
And I need makeup, some style to my hair, and accessories.

 Wednesday:

Random shot of Biggie Swimmy and Dottie Swimmy. This is
getting out of hand.

By Wednesday, the tulips were out in force.

Thursday:

Thursday, I found some awesome new sign pics...

Hughes Stadium at Sac City College. I tweeted this to Richard Hughes of
Keane. : )

We had the strangest little mini-storm move through. It was sprinkling
when I took these next few pics. And COLD.

Full moon over Lincoln.

Friday:

I haz new shoes! They're Skechers, and they're adorable.

When I bought this top in October, it was a wee bit too tight across the
chest. Now there's room to spare.

Chubby Cat is chubby...and also not amused.

Believe it or not, he loves to sit on his back on my lap.

His feet slay me.

Literally. Look at those claws!!

HA! CAUGHT IN THE ACT!!

"Unrolling the toilet paper? No idea what you're talking about..."

After all the Harley pics, I couldn't leave out my sweet Millie girl. She looks
kinda pissed off, but she was purring.

Fitspiration Friday

 

 

This is my favorite running quote--it is attributed to Dr. George Sheehan. A friend posted it on Facebook a while back and I liked it so much, I typed it up, printed it out, and to this day, it is taped to the little cabinet on my computer hutch. I can glance to my right as I type this and see it.

What are you doing for your body this weekend? Do something good for it--walk, run, swim, play a game of tag with your kids. But do something!

Cool Kid's Club

When you're out of shape, going to the gym can be really intimidating. I remember how I used to feel, in those days before I started training, going to the local gym and seeing people with muscles and trim bodies, looking like they knew what they were doing while I slogged along on the elliptical.

Gradually, as I've worked my way through four trainers, 75 pounds of weight loss, and my fair share of sore muscles, I've become less intimidated and far more confident. Instead of feeling in-the-way or "wannabe," I know exactly what I'm doing and what my purpose at the gym is. I no longer feel embarrassed to sweat all over a piece of equipment (I always wipe down, for the record!), or like people must be staring at my various wiggly bits and wondering what the hell I'm doing there.

But still, even though I've become...well, an athlete, for all intents and purposes, I still look around and see people who seem so much cooler than I am. Seasoned gym-goers who lift heavier weights or do more complicated exercises (however, dude who was doing the hand-stand in the functional training area today? You're just a show-off). One such person is a lady I've noticed a lot over the last few months, working out with what I assume is her boyfriend or husband.

When I see her working out, the word that comes to mind is fierce. She has terrific posture, gorgeous muscles, and an air of confidence that's hard to miss. I've watched her working out and thought, "I want to be like her!"

Today, I went to the gym after running several morning errands, thinking some cardio there would be better than coming home and flopping down at the computer and totally flaking out on my run. After I dressed, I bustled around the locker room for a moment, filling up my water bottle and locking my stuff in a locker. As I turned to leave, I heard, "I've seen you working with your trainer--you're kicking butt!"

Lo and behold, it was Ms. Fierce herself, smiling at me and complimenting me. Me!

I smiled back and said, "Oh, I've seen you working out and I've always thought, 'I want her arms.'" We both laughed at that, and spent a moment chatting about my training while I inwardly marveled at the fact that I am now one of those butt-kicking, badass, inspiring gymbo-types that other people admire.

How about that?

I've come a long way from the days of baggy old t-shirts and a slow trudge on the elliptical, hiding out in empty corners of the gym, feeling in the way and unsure of what I was doing. I'm not going to lie--being smaller is a huge benefit of all the working out. The health benefits are fantastic. But honestly, one of the perks I never really anticipated but really, really enjoy is feeling so strong. And feeling like I might inspire people. Maybe it's my Leo ego talking, but it really lights me up inside.

Random Bits and Pieces

Sometimes I have lots of little stories, but not one big blog post...today is one of those days.

A Present For My Trainer

I had my usual Wednesday appointment with M. the Reasonable this morning. I handed him the tag to my new size 4 jeans and said, "Here, I have a present for you...look at the size." He peered down at it, his face lit up, and then he half-yelled, "Oh, SNAP! I love it!!!"

So do I, M...So do I. : )

Later, we were looking something up on his iPhone, so I had him look at last night's post, showing my progression through several pairs of Sweetheart jeans from Old Navy. He loved that, too.

Shopping!

Can I just tell you how much FUN it is to shop these days? Size 4 jeans, a size medium dress for Easter dinner (in my favorite color, too). Today I bought some pretty new underwear, to replace the panties that are way too big. You know you're doing well when your underwear is too big. Hilariously big. I fixed that. Lace may or may not be involved.

Also, Mom treated me to some interview clothes today--a pair of black pants and two pretty button-down tops. I'm pleased that the tops are size 8--while my waist and hips may squeeze into size 4 jeans, my bust is still, well, my bust. And not going anywhere.

Fun Ahead

I'm really excited for Saturday--my friend Shae has a friend, named Shay (awesome, right?) who lives in Stockton. I've met Shay a couple of times, when Shae has visited California from Houston (are you confused yet?). Anyway, California Shay frequently goes to Treasure Island (in the middle of the Bay Bridge) to watch rugby matches on Saturdays, and this weekend, I'm going with her.

What is unbelievable is that I've lived in England twice and I know nothing about rugby. I'm looking forward to learning more about it, seeing fit men in shorts, and getting some stunning action shots against the backdrop of one of my favorite cities in the world.

Keane

Have I mentioned that Keane is coming back to California? Oh, I have? Did I mention I got tickets? Oh, I did? Have I mentioned I'm super-effing-excited? Have I mentioned that I love that band and can't wait for the new album?

Really? I did?

Okay then. Carry on.

(I'm SOOOO EXCITED!!!)

Creativity Abounds

You may or may not have noticed (if you follow this blog) that I have been very...bloggy...lately. It seems that since I abandoned the idea of having a duck for a boss (instead of just having a lucky rubber ducky in my purse), the creative juices cannot be contained. I've been taking pictures. I've been writing. I think this promises good things. Let's face it, Meg needs creativity to survive.

I'm also reading more again. I went through a period of being almost disinterested in books, which is not only strange, it's downright worrying. It feels good to find that joy again.

One Quick Link...

I just found this on my Yahoo homepage--a couple dozen dogs and puppies were saved from a burning home last night by a group of firefighters. Aside from my first obvious question (Who has that many dogs in a house?!!), this story melts my heart and is making my ovaries weep. Men who love animals? Beyond sexy.

And with that, I'm off. "America's Next Top Model" is on soon and I don't want to miss it. It's the one piece of crazy reality TV I allow in my life, and Tyra is good at bringing the cray-cray.

Night-night!

A Story Told In Jeans

When I started my weight loss odyssey in 2009, I had a favorite pair of jeans from Old Navy. The Sweetheart provided a low waist, a stretch denim, and a boot cut that flattered and also felt super-comfortable. I liked the light blue color. My jeans were size 18.

I started training with B. the Sadist, and the jeans began to sag.

"I think it's time for some size 16s!"

 As the weight came off, I was determined to spend the minimum on new clothes, because it seemed silly and wasteful to buy a ton of new duds when more weight would be coming off and I'd just need the basics. Since I could hardly teach middle school with my jeans falling down, I decided to continue buying the same pair of jeans--that light-blue Sweetheart from Old Navy--in descending sizes as I continued on.

Sixteen...getting baggy.

Fourteen...Eighties Day at my school.

Twelve, for the first time since college.

Ten...first time since high school.

Eight...feeling pretty darned good.

Six...Wow!!!

I've documented and measured my weight loss--currently standing at 75 pounds total--through a pair of jeans, always buying the same style and color, simply watching the size go down, down, down.

A few weeks ago, I bought the sixes, and felt fantastic. I don't think I even wore a size six anything in high school...and here I am, rocking them and feeling great. Then today, I found myself near Old Navy, and my jeans were feeling a wee bit baggy, so I thought, "Why not go in and...just see?"

I grabbed a pair of size four Sweetheart jeans from the shelf and headed back to the fitting room. I was whispering under my breath the whole time, "Oh, it's probably not quite that time yet. You probably need another couple of weeks. So don't be disappointed." But the jeans slipped on, and they buttoned and zipped. They're snug, but I can see myself wearing them, comfortably, in another week, two at the most.

So I bought them.

Tomorrow, I plan to hand my current trainer, M. the Reasonable, this
tag, saying, "I have a present for you." He'll be so happy for me.

As for that original pair of size 18 jeans...I still have them.

I've held onto them as a reminder of how far I've come. And because I love the satisfaction that comes when I show them to people who didn't know me when I used to wear them, and watch the jaws drop. There's often a moment or two of silence as they figure out what to say. Maybe a quiet, "Oh, wow." In G. the Meanie's case, it was the only time I ever saw him speechless. In M. the Reasonable's, there was a quiet, "I...I can't imagine you ever fitting into those." In my own, there is a deep satisfaction in knowing that I've come this far, that I've chosen health and activity over the lethargy that used to rule my life.

Squirrelly

As usual, last night found me at Sac State University for my weekly choir rehearsal. I arrived quite early, as traffic seemed lighter than usual.

I decided to treat myself to a pack of M&Ms, so down to the student union I strolled. I perched on a picnic table near the music building with my treat, and promptly got hit on...by a squirrel.

This little guy was so cute, but believe me, I was watching him like a hawk. I didn't find myself in the mood to get bitten, but I'm pretty sure if I'd invited him, he would have snuggled up on my lap. Unfortunately for the fluffy-tailed little cutie, I wasn't willing to share...after a little while, he moved on, and I went to rehearsal.

Smile!

I woke up at 4:00 this morning, after a very disturbing dream in which all of my teeth fell out. It started with one of my front teeth, and before I knew it, I was standing over a bathroom sink in some strange house I've never seen, with my teeth just falling out of my mouth. I was trying to save them all, in the hopes that a dentist might be able to put them back, but they were falling out of my hands and seeming to go all over the place.

Finally, still in this horrid dream, a voice said, "Megan, you're dreaming. Wake up, you're dreaming. This isn't real."

And I woke up.

Needless to say, I was wide awake and rubbing my tongue over my pearly whites.

I have a great smile (so I'm told, often). My teeth are healthy, and they're pretty straight, aside from the slightest gap in my front teeth (which was there when the braces came off and no, I don't plan to fix it, ever). I've had my share of wear and tear but my mouth is healthy, and I know my smile is one of the best parts of my face.

I was awake, but not ready to get up by any means, so at about 5:30, I reached for my Kindle and logged on to the internet to Google "dream interpretations." The first two sites I came across told me that because I had dreamed about losing all of my teeth, I would soon have a huge disaster in my life.

What?

At 5:30 in the morning, with the brain cells still moving in slow-motion, I was a little freaked out. Then, finally, I remembered one crucial point: dreams are not premonitions, they're our brain's way of sorting out our thoughts, our insecurities, our worries and everything else.

Just now, I went back to Google and found the following, from Dream Doctor:

Losing one's teeth is a common dream reflecting concerns about one's physical and social appearances, and effectiveness in a competitive environment. If you think about it, your pearly whites are a big part of your smile, and your smile is a big part of your attractiveness and appearance. A smile can be an indication to a potential mate to continue his or her seduction. A smile lets other people know whether you're happy or sad. Is it any surprise then that dreams about losing, crooked or unsightly teeth - losing your smile - usually come when you're not feeling attractive or desirable?

This is timely; the last few days I've been feeling a little bloated, as the affects of some poor food choices late last week catching up to me. And it's all very true--our smiles are sort of our gateway when meeting new people. We use them to build trust and good feeling with everyone from family to friends to potential employers. With all of the job searching I'm doing these days, and the potentials for interviews, my smile is one of the most important features I have.

This is why I'm glad I floss every night.

Fashion Smashion...Gym Edition

I never used to pay a lot of attention to what I wore at the gym. I used to wear those almost silky-feeling loose-fitting pants (with the stripes down the sides) and a baggy old t-shirt. As the weight came off and the pants started literally falling down as I ran/lifted/whatever, I made a bold switch to leggings. I remember pairing them with a long t-shirt, until G. the Meanie told me I shouldn't hide under a huge shirt and just be comfortable.

So I did just that.

These days, I wear cotton leggings that I buy in the workout gear department at Target. They are comfortable, I don't trip on them, and I can move on them without them moving on me. I run in them. I dead lift in them. I do Turkish Get-Ups in them. I have never risked exposing my underwear in them.

For the top, I alternate between fitted t-shirts, fitted tank tops and fitted long-sleeve shirts depending on what I'm doing and what the temperature is like. Even with a heating system, my gym can get pretty cold in the winter. All of my tops are cotton--well, I have a couple of those fancy-schmancy dry-wick running tops from races, but I don't like them.

As I've become more involved in the running community on Twitter, I've noticed there is a definite hatred of cotton among my fellow runnerds...even a certain derision aimed at the "newbies" who wear it. It kind of baffles me; I am not, by any means, a "newbie" runner. I am not uninformed. And I wear cotton all the time, for all of my workouts.

In talking with others, I know that some people have some serious chafing issues when they work out in cotton. That's fair enough; I don't. As I mentioned, I run in it every day, and so long as it is fitted and not shifting around on my body as I move, I'm comfortable. Even drenched in sweat on a cold day, I am not uncomfortable in my cotton workout gear as I begin the long, mile-and-a-half "active recovery" walk home.

So I don't understand why others make fun of those of us who work out in cotton. Or popular fitness blogs that post "What NOT To Wear At the Gym" posts, as though anyone should care what someone else chooses to work out in. I don't particularly understand running skirts, or the point of wearing a skirt at all when you've basically got running leggings underneath them, too. But I'd never make fun of someone for wearing one, as I have seen done to us cotton-wearing fools on many a fitness blog or Twitter.

Anyway, I'm all about comfort and doing what works best for the individual. For me, it's cotton gear. It's inexpensive, easy to launder, and it works for me.

A week or two ago. Cotton top, cotton leggings. The bra is not cotton.

A few weeks ago. Cotton, cotton and more cotton at the gym. The
70-pound dumbbell is NOT cotton. My trainer (in the mirror) has some
cotton, too.

Monday Music: Spice Girls

To save the time and agony of picking a song for this week's installment of Monday Music, I simply went to my iTunes library, put it on shuffle, and pressed "play." The song that came up was "Wannabe." This song takes me back to my Chico days, those crazy days of music classes, living in the cutest college town the world has to offer, and London Semester, when everything British became everything to me. An Anglophile was born.

So pardon my sometimes questionable taste in music, and enjoy the cheese.

Sunday Night Word Dump

I've recently set the goal of writing something--anything--every day. I'm trying to keep my creativity flowing, and writing makes me happy. Sometimes that writing is a specific blog post. I have no specific topics to blog about today so I'm doing a word dumping exercise, based on some pictures I took this afternoon. Bear with me.

Yesterday, the wind whipped the trees around, and rain lashed down most of the day. I was content to stay indoors all day, taking care of things that needed doing, relaxing, being dry.

I woke up this morning to sunshine and calm. The birds sang in the trees, no longer needing to take shelter. My Sunday morning run brought spectacular views of the Sacramento Valley, a part of California I used to find dull but now love. The valley is home, and it is spectacular.

There are still clouds drifting overhead, but the storm has passed us, heading east to dump more snow on the Sierra Nevada mountains. The ski resorts will be thrilled for some late-season snow, after a bitterly dry winter left them with little change of making money. Here at the edge of the valley, there is no snow, only green. The sky is clear; the rain washed away the thick Sacramento smog that will choke us all summer.

Near where I have stopped on the road are the sheep that come to our neighborhood each year to graze. They need to eat, and by eating down the wild grasses, they help what will soon be a major fire hazard--the green will die away as spring turns to summer, and these fields will be a dry yellow-brown. The perfect kindling, should a careless driver flick a cigarette out the window of their car. California is no stranger to wildfires...so the sheep come each year and eat, providing a valuable service to the neighborhood.

Though it seems too early, there are poppies--the Golden Poppy, our state flower. Their bright orange faces open to the sun and dot the landscape with their fiery joy. They will stay all summer, leaving us only when fall approaches and the cold drives them out.

Here in Lincoln, the wind is always blowing...today it is a gentle breeze, dancing by my ears as I stop the car and climb out to take a few quick pictures on the side of the road. It is peaceful, in spite of the passing cars coming in and out of my neighborhood. I feel lucky to live at the edge of the valley, this spectacular place in the most beautiful state in the country. California is not just beaches and movie stars--it is the mountains, the desserts, the forests...and this valley that I call home. The valley that helps feed the whole world.

After a few minutes of taking it all in, I get back in my car and head home.