Resolution for 2011 -- set goals!

My new year's resolutions will have nothing to do with being a better person or to stop smoking -- after all, I already quit smoking last year, which made me a better person. My resolutions will be much more specific than that. So is that a goal then?

I could resolve to eat better, but my goal is to lose weight. Or, I could resolve to get outside more, but my goal of trikking often would get that done. And when I  trikke, I really am enjoying the great outdoors to the fullest.

So, which do I do? Announce my resolutions, or set my goals?

Goals are more than resolutions. Goals are something we plan out and tackle one little bit at a time. The plan is charted out and the road is mapped. Goals are something we look at daily, and check off each step along the way.

Resolutions are much broader and are a very public thing. We boast about them during the holidays. And resolutions give us reason to splurge until January one. "I'll eat now and make a resolution at the beginning of the year."

Goals are much more private. Plus, we don't boast about setting a goal, we only boast when achieving that goal. So goals are more personal than resolutions.

And we all know that resolutions last only as long as the crowds in the gym.

To Those I've Snubbed

Back in the day, when I was young, beautiful and thin, I was very unapproachable. I watched, as a child, those old movies from the 1930's when women rebuffed the advances of men. Back when women were hard to get. Unfortunately, I never learned that was just fiction.

In real life I was one lonely, beautiful, young and thin woman. Guys didn't respond like in the movies. If I didn't smile at them, well, they didn't think, "oh, challenge." They thought "oh, bitch," and moved on to the next less beautiful yet friendly woman. I would think he's just not the one. Or I would console myself with "I'm out of his league" and I would go on to refuse to dance with the next guy who asked.

This all hit home for me the other day when I was talking to someone I thought was cute. He was not interested, he wouldn't even look me in the eyes as we spoke. Well, I thought, he could have at least been nice.

The years have leveled the playing field. I realize with my now imperfect packaging that even though someone might not have the best look, great gifts come in all kinds of wrappings.

Silly Willa

There is something about a paper bag...

... that makes Jake want to get
cozy.

My Friend, the Diet

I have decided to befriend the diet. I may as well. If I want to get anywhere with my weight loss goal, I must befriend the diet. There are no options. If I want to lose weight I must play by her rules. Period.

I have tried eating healthier foods--protein bars instead of candy bars, yogurt instead of ice cream and nuts instead of chips, etc., etc. Yet it all comes down to counting calories. I can exercise all day long, but if I don't cut calories my efforts are for naught.

With all that said I must also admit that I have been eating myself into plateau land. I have been hovering around 250 for four or five months now. The truth is I am not on a plateau, I am eating too many calories! I'm tired of it.

I am also tired of shopping for a few healthy alternatives then blow the effort by eating them all in one night. Yes, in one night. That won't work well even with healthier options.

I have come to realize that I can eat banana splits all day as long as it's under 1800 calories per day. I just won't feel my best. So, the only secret to losing weight is 1800 calories a day. There are some "buts" though.

Eat 1800 calories BUT only 30% should be from fats. Eat 1800 calories BUT get enough protein BUT it's got to be lean protein. Eat from the food pyramid BUT be careful of servings from the upper levels of the pyramid. It always comes down to that.

In my opinion, people who are overweight are diet masters, they just don't act on what they know. I'm crossing over to the other side. I'm ready for the next level of thin-ness to take over my life. I'm ready for the next step, which is (can you guess?) no more than 1800 calories per day!

I will refocus on my diet/food plan and I will report it here... I am now a friend of the diet. And she is a friend to me.

My (Black) Birdie, my T8

I have not reported on my new T8 at all, and I've been riding it for over a month now. It took a few weeks to get used to, but now that I am the master, all things are well. I must admit that this is one of the best purchases I have ever made. Not only does it reaffirm my commitment to losing weight, but as a friend said it's a fountain of youth for me. And it is.

Not only do I do eight miles on a regular basis, but just getting out in the sunshine is good for my soul. It is good to see familiar faces on the streets. I get lots of smiles and questions, and sometimes that's a pain, but it's worth the risk to be one of the only females to trikke on a regular basis in Long Beach. I am an example. I am a role model for the idea that it's never too late.

The T8 is like driving with power steering. It is so easy to glide around on. I'm really glad I had the T78 for the first year so that I could fully appreciate this model. It has made me a better Trikker.

And so, I live for sunny days. I live for days with soft breezes. I live to trikke. With all that in mind, my life has improved -- from watching TV all day on the couch to watching the weather report so as to figure what trail would be best for that particular day. Thank you Trikke. Thank you (Black) Birdie.

My Favorite Quotes

Often, my favorite quotes come from songs, not books. Even though Nietzsche or Baudelaire (go ahead, insert your favorite philosopher or poet here) have a corner on the market, for me, songs contain some pretty intriguing subjects. "So stick out your can, cuz' I'm the garbage man," by  Lux Interior of the Cramps is a great standby. Not only does it say something about me, but it also shows you how obscure my musical tastes run.

Another favorite, from the Chameleons (UK), "Time will make a ghost of us all." Although not uplifting, it is a reality with which I cannot escape.

Almost every song has a line or lines that are profound or inspiring. A new favorite is by 3oh!3, called "My first kiss." It's just so graphic I love it, "Your kiss is like whiskey, it gets me drunk, and I wake up in the morning with the taste of your tongue." Yummy!

Marilyn Manson's "beautiful people" comes to my mind when I am trying to get around some fool walking on the trikke path. "There's no time to discriminate, hate every motherfucker that's in your way." I know, it sounds cruel, but sometimes these fools need mowing down. Plus, who would think I listen to Manson in the first place?!

So now to redeem myself, I will share a quote from Simon and Garfunkel "you read your Emily Dickinson and I my Robert Frost, and we note our place with book markers that measure what we've lost." I love the way that sounds.

That is the way poetry works. Maybe the exact meaning cannot be grasped but the sound of it is pleasing. It is understood on some level that may not be a conscious level. The heart understands, not the brain.

In this way lyrics are very much like poetry and are quite quotable. So next time someone asks about my favorite quote I may be stealing from Lady Gaga when I answer "I like it rough."

In the Rear View

Every few years or so the beast in my pants comes out growling, so I must admit I still think about sex. For some it's an everyday experience, for others not so much. For me, not at all. And I miss that. I know, being a woman, I can go out and get some anytime. Unfortunately it's not that easy.

And so I think of posts past. I really believe, to my misfortune, that "It's Only Gross If You're Ugly" and that hinders me from approaching the subject with anyone other than myself. It's the same old weight issue, I guess.

The age thing is no help either, even though older women and younger men are a common subject , I just can't wrap my mind around it all. Sometimes I think "Cougar? No Thanks" and then there is "Revisiting Cougar". I am really torn on the subject.

Am I a "Fast Woman" or am I just "Waking up"? Either way, it's all so confusing. This must be why there are electronics... And I am thankful for that.

I used to think I had had enough sex for a lifetime in my younger years. Is that possible? I have been single for so long now that I think that statement is just a way of smoothing out the edges, consoling my soul.

And yet the beast is back. So who knows what the future holds. I'm going back on my diet. Isn't that the fun of the game of life?

Inspiration by Nosferatu

Halloween Tribute

This is a first draft of a brochure I worked on for a group Halloween Trikke ride. It was not needed and yet I liked it so much I had to publish it somewhere. The small logos are not mine, just the shadowy design. Creepy, isn't it?

Introducing (Black) Birdie...

I am a bit behind on my blogging as life has gotten a bit large lately. Large in a good way mind you, yet still large.

I have not written about my new Trikke, (Black) Birdie. She is a beautiful beast from the Trikke Tech family of Trikkes. She is the next step up for me from the T78. There are quite a few upgrades that I have noticed.

One of the first things I noticed was the look of the T8. Maybe it's all in my mind, but I think this just looks richer than the T78. When I walk down the street people are captivated by this model. It is a serious carving machine. Maybe it's just because it's black, I don't know, or maybe the angles are more extreme.

The carving mechanism (for lack of a proper term), sits higher and seems much larger than the T78. Maybe that accounts for the feeling of power from the T8. The front fork smoothly slides back and forth across the asphalt as I carve down the street. Not so with the T78.

I compair the T78 to an old Volkswagen bug. It is inexpensive, a great starter Trikke, yet has no frills. I really had to beat that old girl into submission to make her go. With the T8 there is none of that.

I compair the T8 to a Lexus, with power steering that just glides in the direction it's pointed. And I have the best brakes with a lighter frame to make it more sporty. This model doesn't respond well when I try to overpower it. I need to ease up and finesse this baby.

So if anyone out there is looking for a great starter Trikke, (Blue) Birdie is still on Craig's list. (SOLD)

P.S. If you look closely there is a Daisy spotting in the picture! My invisable kitty does exist...

The Arrival of Cookie Dough

I was chosen to receive samples of the new Cookie Dough varieties of the Zone Perfect nutrition bars. I was part of the media roll-out for this new variety. I don't quite know how I got on that list, but it's a good list to be on.

I received a heavy box a few days ago. I couldn't stop my mind from racing. "This is a lot of samples!" I thought. "I'm set for a few days!"

I opened that box like I hadn't seen food in a week. I was surprised when I found a white ceramic cookie jar. That accounted for the weight. I opened the jar and inside was the holy grail of nutritional candy bars. I got one sample each of peanut butter, chocolate chip and oatmeal raisin cookie dough nutritional bars.

I was a bit disappointed. I was envisioning a case each, and a few other samples as well, namely chocolate mint or strawberry yogurt nutrition bars. I know, kinda selfish since I still got three bars for free!

I must say the peanut butter was my favorite. It had a firm yet creamy texture and the flavor was not shy. The chocolate chip had lots of chips yet not too many to overshadow the cookie dough. The oatmeal was good, but some of the oatmeal pieces -- although small-- were  a bit dry.

There was no hint of all the vitamins and minerals that pack these nutrition bars. The flavor and texture of cookie dough was recreated successfully here. And each packed 10 grams of protein. I think they would be great to take during a Trikke ride for refueling as they don't have as much protein as the traditional zone bars.

So, just to recap, the cookie varieties are a big "yes!" but the regular protein bars are still the best (esp. chocolate mint and strawberry yogurt -- see a pattern?)! So if you like cookie dough, try them.

P.S. The cookie jar will be kept in a place that reminds me that the power of my words involved me in the media roll-out of a national product!
P.P.S. Check out www.facebook.com/zoneperfect for a month of give aways ending Nov. 1st

It's Too Hard

As I ride my Trikke down the street I get a wide variety of comments such as "is it fun?", "is it a good workout?", and "is it hard to learn?" Just to set the record straight -- yes, yes and no. Yet the most mind boggling comment I hear is "it's too much work."

The craziest comment heard was from a guy standing in line, at the marine recruiting station, waiting to do pull ups. "It's too much work!" he says. And yet, he's waiting to do pull ups! Now that's hard work!

The vast majority of folks with negative comments are much younger than me. Picture it -- a 54 year old obese woman having a blast carving up the sidewalk and two men in their thirties comment under their breath "it's too much work." Picture it again -- a 54 year old obese woman carving up the sidewalk who overhears "it's fun" says one "it's too much work" says the other 12 year old. Picture it one more time -- a 54 year old obese woman carving up the sidewalk hears "it's too much work" from strollers on the bike path. What!?!

The Trikke is so much fun that sometimes I forget it is an exercise machine. Others see it as an exercise machine and don't know how fun it is. Either way the Trikke is an exercise machine that is hard sometimes, yet always fun, even when I'm puffing up a trail. Maybe I need to check that strained (yet joyous) look on my face.

I Love Zone Bars, part 2

As stated earlier in one of my posts, I love Zone Bars. I would rather eat them than any candy bar, protein bar, or vegetable. Not only do they have a whopping 15 grams of protein, but they also contacted me from my previous post to offer a trial of their newest product, cookie dough varieties. I am still waiting for the delivery, probably sometime this week.

Now, this could be an example of how the universe works. Ask for something and it will come to you. I just put the word out for someone to send me Zone Bars like a celebrity, and BOOM, they are on their way. This is the power of the pen at work!

I think this could be the beginning of a beautiful relationship...

Stress Is a Speed Bump on the Fwy

I have recently reverted back to my old state as "victim." That attribute snuck in as I was paying attention to something else. I was stressing myself out, and forgetting who I am.

I am a powerful, creative woman. I am a writer, a blogger and sometimes a graphic artist, on a small scale. And I stress myself out with internal messages like "I'm not good enough" or "I'll never get this done." I tell myself lies and then I believe them.

Enough is enough. Just because I used to go to that loser place doesn't mean I belong there. I don't belong there. I left that location in 1989, or there abouts. So how did I find myself there last week? It's an easy place to go. It's actually easier to go there than not.

The waves just wash me up on that shore. Usually I'm tossed about before the ocean spits me out onto the sands of that beach. No creative juices flow here, it is just sand, quicksand. There are no dreams or goals here, only "I wish..."

"I wish" is not a powerful place. It is a place for victims who have no goals or plans -- no road maps. "I wish" is a place for those who can't say "I am going there, even without a map." There is no determination, there is no quest.

And it all comes about from the quicksand-like entrapment of stress. Stress can keep me immobilized, and victimized. It keeps me there until I remember who I am. It is then I remember my skills and talents. It is then I am released. It is then I book an exit off this place, and I am home again.

Autumn Is A Middle-Aged Woman

I've been listening to old Simon and Garfunkle lately. It returns such feelings, and it brings new ones as well. What is it about music that moves me so? Is it the slight melancholia that wraps itself like a warm blanket around my memories? Is it the timelessness of those memories that present themselves in a three minute format? Maybe it is just that time of year.

For me, fall brings to mind a reflection of not only the past year, but also my past. It is the aging of the year, it is the aging of me. It is the march towards death, it's the end of the year. That alone is a tiny death.

In January, everything is new and possible. As the year progresses, the blooming of events reveal longer days and more activity. After the rush of summer brings a slowing, an aging. I begin to feel older. I am more tired. The days shorten. I bring out my sweats. Even the flowers begin to deconstruct.

Autumn is like a middle-aged woman, still lots of surprises, still a slowness. Sometimes one's past is bigger than one's future, sometimes there is a second bloom.

Don't ever give up on the year. Don't ever give up on the self. Even though the year is waning, I am not. Not this year. My possibilities are blooming like April. And still the fall brings me to reflect on the yesterdays of my life.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lO9Ild2cvdg&feature=related

Another Year Down!

Friday was my 54th birthday. Why be coy about it? Yes, I'm 54. I've never been a female who was shy about her age. Why bother. Plus I am so interested in other people's ages. It's just something to guage a person by. It's really a curiosity. Ask me about my weight and well, that is a subject I'm silent about.

Speaking of weight, I am still on that plateau, not gaining but not losing either. I have one year to make my goal of 175lbs. by my 55 birthday. I know it's a reachable goal. Afterall, I don't have to quit smoking again. I like to think that is why I have only lost 30 lbs this year. Most people gain weight when they quit. I still lost. And I must say those 14 inches didn't drop off in my sleep!

So now that I've given myself a shout out (I deserve it during my birthday week), it's time to recommit. Or maybe I should wait until my week is over? Anyway It's good to be conscious of it. I want to get back to mostly raw foods. I like that food plan. No more than two Zone Perfect bars a day (yikes), cut out most sugar and white foods, and let the cards fall where they will.

Of course I will be Trikking all the way to 2030, when I will be put into the old Trikker's home, where we will relive all our skills and spills all the way to the grave. I know, but it's my week, and I can get away with anything self-indulgent. This blog is called JTs full of herself for a reason!

Bye-Bye (Blue) Birdie

I have graduated to the next level of Trikking, the T8. It seems to be a shrunk-down version of a T12, which is the cadillac of the Trikke world. So if the T12 is the cadillac, the T8 must be the corvette.

I am still getting used to the T8, just like a new bike or new anything. It is just different. I even notice the difference in a new computer keyboard to be honest. So getting used to the T8 requires new muscles to work, a new wiggle if you will.

My first Trikke, (blue) Birdie, will be sold to a good home as I step forward into a new realm of Trikking. The new T8, (Black) Birdie, is such a smooth ride! All I have to do is move the handlebars back and forth and I just glide down the sidewalk. This is what land skiing is all about.

The T8 feels like the lubed-up version of the T78. It feels just like an oil change in my old mustang, (back when I had that car). I never noticed anything until I drove out of the tune-up bay. The car felt like it was on rails. I just glided down the street. I am gliding once again.

If I could talk to a T78 fan, I would tell them to step up to the T8. Immediately. I fell in love with Trikking all over again! The cost is so worth it, especially since I plan to Trikke for many years to come. Plus, South Bay Trikke has refurbished models available right now at a greatly reduced price.

So, Step up... You know you want to.

Farewell, Blue Birdie!

Labor Day=Trikke Day

The Labor Day Trikke Ride in Long Beach was a huge success! We had 20 Trikkers on the bike path. This is something Long Beach has never seen. And yet, something Long Beach will see several times per year hereafter. I am so pleased with the baby I birthed.

After riding all 10 miles, I was beat! We all went to a pub after and had lunch. What a hearty group. For someone who is not comfortable in a crowd I did really well. After all we all have something in common -- a love for Trikking. Everything else is incidental.

Since the "ride" I have been exhausted. I've been beat from that positive energy. But what a way to be!

Who knew that, when I first saw someone on a Trikke and knew I had to have one, it would open up a whole world of new friends and colleagues.

If this were the Trikke Awards I would give the most inspirational award to he who first showed me his Trikke. To South Bay Trikke an award for best selling, servicing and teaching. And Trikke gets the award for the most fun on three wheels.

I of course would get best female athlete of the day because no one tried harder than me to complete the circuit!

I Love My Trikke

Can A Bike Do This?

I have been writing about my Love Affair With My Trikke for a year now, and I must say I still love my Trikke. Even more than last year! It is just One Fun Ride! I even quit smoking to trikke better.

Recently I have been taking more chances on the Trikke. I have been Trusting My Trikke more and more. All you have to do is Color Me Blown Away! And the weight, well it comes off in hits and misses, like in Another Seven Down. All I know is I am in much better shape than I have ever been in. Even if I am not always going down the scale, I am always and forever Ms. Trikke USA!

All my Trikke posts are written under the label, JTs full of her Trikke. I also have another label -- JTs full of her health, which is about my weight loss with the Trikke. Check out me and Birdie!

Also looking forward to my new T8 coming in September. Will post pics soon. Must name new Trikke...

One Fun Ride

I haven't written about my love affair with my Trikke lately. It's not because we're on the rocks. It's not because I have decided to use it as a clothes rack. It's because I have been in training for the last six weeks.

I have been riding seriously every other day for those weeks because I want to build my Trikke-muscles for the Labor Day Trikke Ride in Long Beach, exactly one week from today. I've been in training to ride farther and am now able to cover 10 miles. This is quite a goal buster for me.

I've had my Trikke for a year now and I still remember when it was hard to go around the block. I thought 10 miles was farther than my body could dream of. And yet here I am.

My body has changed so much. I am leaner. I am harder. I have upper body strength. I have definition. Not bad for a 54 year old obese woman with fibromyalgia!

I still have a long way to go. So far the journey has been packed with fun and hard work. After all Trikkes don't move themselves.

After next week I can go back to trikking any day I want for as long as I want. I won't stop traveling 10 miles. When I think of it, I will never be out of training as long as I'm breathing and loving my Trikke.

The Shoulders I've Tread Upon

I can't help but think of the women before me. They led the way for me to live as I've pleased, to make the choices I've been confronted with. Yet, How many centuries have women been born into a straight-jacket of servitude? How long before we had choices?

Just think, one hundred years ago, a woman could not live alone. She would not be single and she would not be without children whose noses needed to be wiped or who's diapers needed to be changed.

Even 50 years ago a woman needed a man to get through. These women were born to serve. After watching my mother work all day and come home to work all night, I saw that being a woman was a rotten deal.

Without words, I learned what was in store for me. And yet, I was lucky enough to be born in an era where I had choices. Should I marry? Should I have a career? After all it's just too much work to have it all.

I never wanted to pick up after a man like my mother did. The price was too high for me. And I can't help being grateful for all those unnamed women who were stuck in a life of subservience and who dreamed a better dream. I get to reap the benefits of those dreams.

I thank all the women whose shoulders I've tread upon. And I thank them for the life I live today. Without them I wouldn't have the choice to be with a man or to stand alone.

No Plateau

My friend Sara and I are both trying to lose weight. A lot of weight. And we both have noticed something about our bodies. It seems we lose weight in layers.

When I started my body was very soft, what you would think pudgy feels like, pliable, like a pillow sort of. I started exercising and losing weight. The pounds dripped off and my body got hard. It felt great.

Then a strange thing happened. I stopped losing weight. My body got all soft again. I thought I had gained all my weight back. I was surprised after a weigh-in that I had not gained one pound.

What happened? I lost all that soft fat, only to have the firm layer underneath go soft. Is the body getting ready to lose the next layer by making it soft and more easy to access for weight loss? Is this process what a plateau is?

If this is a plateau, I don't mind it. It is not a stagnate state the body goes into, but a preparation for the next phase of weight loss. As long as my body is actively working to lose weight and not just on vacation, I can handle that with diplomacy.

Paws-ative Proof

In-cognito

I have these spells occasionally, well maybe frequently, where I want to sleep all day. And so I do. I get up and in two hours I am so tired. I say to myself that I will just sit down for a while and then I wake up six hours later.

The dishes pile up in the sink. I don't want to cook, well I can't with no clean forks or spoons. I eat protein bars and yogurt to sustain myself. And my mood takes a dive into the deep end. I guess this is what depression and/or fibromyalgia look like.

My Trikke sits, collecting dust. I throw clothes over the handlebars. Those handlebars are perfect for a clothes rack. They are more perfect for carving up the sidewalk, but that is far from my reach during my down time.

These moods can last for three days. After that time I generally pull myself away from the Velcro couch and the TV. I need Zone Perfect bars. I need cat food. I need to save my soul from rotting on the inside.

It is hard, every time I get up and make my way back into my life. It takes walking blocks to unstiffen the muscles that have been shriveling up for the last few days.

In the sun, I'm like a flower unfolding. With my petals open to the sun, I stretch, I grow. It is then that I am recreated. Again.

Trusting My Trikke

When I ride my Trikke around town, I am just another person fighting for sidewalk space. I have learned how to carve while taking the least amount of cement because of this. Yet lately I have been experimenting with opening up my angles. And while doing this I have found a new way to ride my Trikke. I've also found a new sweet spot.

To sum it up, I am "spending more time on the sides of my tires." In doing so I am leaning more. I am finally trusting the lean. I'm able to move a little faster. And I enjoy the ride more.

This is such an intellectual vehicle. Not only do I get rocked into a zen state, I think clearer. I now take paper with me when I trikke because the ideas just keep rolling through my brain. And I am an idea person.

So, getting back to the lean. I got this idea from watching how much time trikkers spend in the lean. I have finally gotten to the point where I don't think I'm going to fall off my Trikke every time I get on it. I know there is enough muscle memory in place that I can trust a little bit.

Even though I am getting very comfortable on three wheels (again), I won't be bombing down hills or going off sidewalks. I can still have a blast just trikking straight ahead. Well, sort of straight.

I'm In the Zone

I have not written about my weight loss journey lately. I think it has incorporated itself into my everyday life so thoroughly that I don't think, worry or ruminate about it much anymore. I am eating better, getting exercise and doing all the right things. I am not obsessing about the numbers right now. And, the numbers are staying firm.

I may be at a plateau. I have been at 250-ish for more than a month. I must admit I have been going crazy over the Zone Perfect bars, eating as many as five a day. Well, I do need my protein, after all. And at 15 grams a bar, I am getting it. Unfortunately I'm also getting 210 calories per bar.

Ok, the protein issue -- that's just an excuse to eat more of them. They are better than snickers bars!

I wish I were a celebrity so that every time I mention Zone Perfect bars the company would send me a case. My favorite is chocolate mint. If it were Valentine's Day, I would still want a box of chocolates -- double chocolate Zone Perfect bars, (not those funky heart shaped boxes filled with chocolate flavored crap). Just slap a bow on the box. Don't send flowers, they die. Send strawberry yogurt Zone Perfect bars to get to my heart.

So my thought for today is don't get all your protein from a Zone Perfect bar, it may keep you from your goals. But one or two will make the world a better place to be. Thank you, Zone Perfect.

P.S. FYI -- I mentioned Zone Perfect bars seven times in this post.

Disturbing, funny and just wrong

I read an article in The Week magazine about researchers finding out how to turn female mice into lesbian mice. They discovered by deleting one gene the female mice would avoid males and try to mount the females. The gene is called fucose mutarotase or FucM for short. Seriously, FucM.

I find it disturbing that we change the DNA of these mice at the embrionic stage. These mice probably do have a better life than street mice, but this just seems wrong. The scientists don't even know the significance of their findings yet, just that it may help them find the "gay" gene one day.

And the perfect attitude for a lesbian mouse to have could very well be, well, FucM.

The Perfect Cocktail

I have been having all these aches and pains with a variety of different descriptors, such as sharp and stabbing to dull and achey. I can't tell which is the most bothersome as they are both very uncomfortable. I was questioning a site to see if I have arthritis and found one full of women talking about how much pain they are in and how many different sensations it causes.

Some of the women listed their medications, the latest cocktails, and prognoses for those issues. I may as well have been looking at my previous perscriptions, because I have run across many of those meds in the last 20 years. Lexapro, neurontin, synthroid, vicodin, steriods, lithuim, fentanyl, cortisols, diclophenac, prednisone. And the diagnoses include: hypertension, obesity, depression, GERD, hysterectomy, hernia, gall stones and the list goes on.

I wanted to post a question asking about their childhood. Was there a lot of stress, fear, anger or denial? Was there violence? Worse?

In recovery therapy it is thought that 90% of obese people have been sexually abused.

Why do so few take the majority of the meds? Why are most of them women? I take seven separate medications daily, not counting the few that wait in the wings (example -- water pills and other pain meds). What is really going on here?

My first thought is that we complain about so many seemingly vague symptoms and doctors, who just want us to feel better, give us what they think will work. Yet how does a doctor know if it's fibro or arthritis? Is that why we use so many common ingredients in our cocktails? They throw the same meds at us for different diagnoses, kinda like throwing spaghetti on the wall to see if sticks. And what about the different ingredients we go through to get the correct cocktail? And the years that takes? It was 9 years for me alone.

My fibro symptoms seem very similar to those with arthritis. I bet the majority of us have other similarities as well. I mean body type, mind set and history. And with all this in mind I must say I'm not really complaining. My perfect cocktail keeps me off the couch and on my Trikke. That's the most important issue to me right now.

"So Happy I Could Die"

This is a song title by Lady GaGa that struck a chord with me. Her version is about her "addiction monster." My first thoughts were far from that.

I remember a day in Jr. High when I had a hall pass for some reason or other and I ran into my "omg, if-he-talks-to-me-I'll-just-die" crush -- Craig Lunsford. He was cruising the halls without a pass as usual.

I don't know why but he stopped me and we had a conversation. He was nice and I forgot my quietness and chubbyness. I remember thinking that if I died right at that moment, I would be complete."So happy I could die."

This is a concept that has puberty all over it. Those years when everything was at a high pitch and immediate response was not soon enough. And yet being "so happy..." has a timelessness to it. All those insecurities and fears are dimmed.

I recently added the song to my play list. Yesterday it came on and I thought of Craig Lunsford. I remembered that feeling of utter fulfillment, a feeling of completeness that a teenage girl gets from a teenage boy. Back then it carried me away.

It's been a few decades since a teenage boy started my heart racing. My trikke carries me away these days. "So happy I could die" now has to do with the wind in my hair, the warm sun on my skin, the completeness that fuels my trikke and me to go forward.

Ms. Trikke USA

When I trikke I take the attitude of a beauty queen on a float. It's not because I'm feeling really beautiful that day or anything like that. When people look at me while I'm on my Trikke, they are looking at me through the eyes of their inner child.

Most people light up when they see me, asking "is it fun?" My smile, also furnished by my inner child, conveys yes. For that brief exchange it is two adults forgetting who they are for a few minutes letting the playground days come back. It really is magical, and it really is fun.

I'm a big girl now, with a big girl helmet and a track that is not limited to the school blacktop. It is great fun tooling around my coastal city. I know where not to go and where to spend most of my time. Being an adult has its high points and low points. Being a trikker is all golden.

Need I Say More?

Can a bike do that?

Breaking Through

Yesterday I went on a trikke ride, the first in a week. I went as far as my last trikke-trip. I still wanted to go farther, but I thought I had better not push it, so I stopped. Today I feel fine and ready to go again. My neck is pushed up against that glass ceiling.

Will it be today I break through my self imposed limitations? I keep bumping up against that imaginary limit and thinking that is all I'm good for. I have a new perspective today. I need to keep bumping up against that ceiling and I will eventually find a crack. After all, I am not trapped under water hoping to break through a wall of ice. It's just another goal.

I think trikking is a barometer into what is going on with my everyday life. Some days I can't get on the trikke, and then there are days like today when I can't wait to get out there and on that. I am aiming for the pier. It's about six miles round trip. Watch out for falling glass...

Sidelined

My knee started whining again last week. I don't know what I did, I was just innocently trikking. When I stepped off the Trikke I stepped into pain. It went from my knee, up to my hip and back down to my knee. I had to walk home on it, 6 blocks. It was hard to breathe my leg hurt so badly.

What happened? I have no clue. I didn't fall off my Trikke, didn't step on or off incorrectly. I have no idea what I did. But it sidelined me for a week, just when I was getting stronger and was pushing through to the next level.

I have been suspicious about this next level and how I fit into it. I seem to revisit the top of my highest level and am never able to break through to the next. Something happens and I find myself starting over, again and again.

I've recognized this pattern in other aspects of my life. I feel good, no, I feel great, and then I catch a cold. I'm down for a week and have to restart my fitness gains over again. It happened in my professional life way, way, back when I had one. I never broke my own glass ceiling. And especially in previous dieting attempts, I get down to a certain number or average and then I trip myself up, gain all the weight back, get frustrated, eat like a bear before hibernation and then hibernate. I hide until I get my fight back, and then the whole cycle starts again.

Stop! Stop I say! I want to do things differently this time. I know I can do things differently this time. I will do things differently this time. Admitting the problem is the first step, right? And so I plan on trikking later today. It has been only 7 days off the Trikke so I should be able to step back into the level I was at during my last ride. Right... ?

Look...

The Dreaded Question

It is easy reconnecting with people from my past with the latest technology. Thanks to Facebook, it is not just the alumni association that can keep up with me after years of being a ghost.

I get a thrill from finding a long lost pal. I also get a thrill out of discovering what they have done with their lives. Unfortunately the dreaded question follows, "what have you been up to?" They want to know the same about me.

The path I chose is far from traditional, even when the lack of marriage and kids is off the table. I remember that one decision that would forever change the direction of my future. In 1993, I called in sick and never worked again in my chosen profession. I was stripped of my executive status and for a year or so worked temp jobs where office skills weren't so important. From account executive to advertising director to answering phones.

It was a pesky major depressive episode. They don't call them nervous breakdowns anymore. It was the reason I called in sick that fateful day. Next was the nine years it took to get the meds right, then the next six years trying to get my fight back. We are talking 15 years of focusing on myself. Most don't choose that path, I was plunked down right in the middle of it.

I couldn't help myself one day, on Facebook. I looked up an old friend. I was taken by her success. I just had to comment on how happy I was for her. Her reply to me was "what have you been up to?" Innocent enough and yet how do I answer a question like that on Facebook, the Xmas newsletter of everyday living?

My "why trikkers are older" Theory

On the TrikkeTalk site I get a lot of info about trikkers including a survey of the ages of Trikkers. Most of them are in their 40s, 50s, even a 75 year-old trikker (bless her)! It makes me wonder why this "tri-bike" of the 21st century has not caught on with all ages.

My first thought is that trikkers are extra intelligent. It takes years to become as wise as we are. This makes us open to new ideas, willing to try new things. We are the baby boomer generation and getting older has a new face.

We want to stay active, so we work hard and play harder. Now there are powerful pills to keep us moving, when arthritis might have sidelined a previous generation. We also consider "play" to be important, a 21st century idea.

We are concerned about our health like no other generation. Trying to recapture our youth, or just trying to feel our best, is big business. We are concerned about quality of life. And we are not resigned to spending our senior years in front of the TV.

I think cost also plays a role. Many 20-something future trikkers just don't have the money to spring for a $500 fun machine like we can. But hey, it's five times the fun of a traditional bike, that 20th century idea of recreation and transport.

Trikkers are older because we are the forward thinking adults of the 21st century and we have the drive to try something new. We value our health and want to keep moving until we die. We are showing everyone that we can't be written off so easily.

I Picture

I Picture
my seduction
in slow motion.
I want to prolong your kiss,
I don't want to miss your tousle with my bra.
We'll tumble into bed
arms knotted, lips tied, tongues entwined.
I meant to say "no"
until you unzipped my dress.
Then I threw my "no" out the window
like a brick.

Even though we tear down clothing
we aren't really naked.
Like carpenters who work together
yet build separately
we move people in between us
like walls.

Doug

Doug buys our drinks at the Rex
after an eight-year absence.
He still wears topsiders and
drinks Chivas on the rocks.
The only difference --
his wife drinks with him.

We sat in the parking lot after work,
windows fogged, just talking.
I was 18 pretending to be 21,
and he was entering law school.

Doug comes over to tell me
how beautiful I am at 26,
and that he can't use his law degree.
His wife buys our second round and
tells him it's time to go home.
She looks at me as if I would steal her purse.

Taking One for the Team

Today I have to go to my pain management doctor for a shot in my knee. The last one was very uncomfortable and there was pain. Enough to make me nervous thinking about it. If it helps the pain in my knee at all it will be worth it. But it might not help either. Remember, doctors practice medicine after all. All I can think about is that I need to take one for the team. My team, JT's and her Trikke's team.

I guess we can judge our adult-ness by facing situations like this one, especially needing to relax while very uncomfortable. "It's gonna hurt, so relax!", the doc says. HA! I'm a baby when it comes to this stuff. I squeal, hunch up, tense up and let the doc know how I feel about what he says is "uncomfortable." When they use that word, well, it's like when I take out the pet carrier for Jake. May as well stay under the bed, he isn't coming out.

So I must offer up my knee to the gods for sacrifice. It's not a virgin knee, but it will do. I can then add this to the list of knee work and go on to the next procedure if needed. Boy, what I won't do to trikke longer and harder.

Does Weight Loss While Sick Count?

I have been sick all week, I fell last Sunday with something I had been fighting the previous week. So I went to the Doctor yesterday and found out I have a sinus infection. Not my first, so I understand why I have felt so lousy. And yet when I got on the scale I had lost another 5 pounds!! Well, I know I've hardly eaten all week but some of it has got to count. I always have to say to the nurse, "up one more" to that 50 pound marker. Not anymore. I still have two more 50 pound chunks to go, but that will come with time.

I am amazed that no matter what I do I keep losing weight. I don't think I am eating my best, and another 2-3 pounds come off. Don't misunderstand. I have completely changed the way I eat, and I love eating more healthfully. I exercise and drink lots of water. I'm doing everything right, and it works!! I still overeat at night, so that effects how much I lose, but I'm not in a hurry. I don't want to have to lose these pounds twice.

So even though some of the five pounds will come back, I probably can forget a few of them. Isn't science wonderful? Eat the right things and you will lose weight. They said it would be like this.

How Many Shoes Does It Take?

I am on my third pair of shoes. Breaking Trikke shoes in is a bitch, especially if I am in the middle of trikking and my feet start to hurt. Not only am I far from home when the pain starts, but I don't want to go home either.

My ugly shoes (previous post) are hopeless, being made with a mixture of rubber and suede. They are too tight at the side of my toe, and the material won't budge, not even 1/4 inch.

My second pair (above), are like deck shoes that were said to be like crocs, but aren't. The only thing croc-like about them is that they are anti-bacterial. I finally broke down and got a conventional pair of shoes, Danskins, (below). They are ugly only because they aren't Sketchers. They don't give me the closeness to the foot deck that I like while trikking. And the bottoms of my feet still hurt.

It is probably because I hold onto the handlebars with a death grip that only my feet can compete with. For some reason I don't relax my feet while trikking. I thought at first I was trying to go faster than my fitness level permits, but it might be the shoes. Or so the lady at Payless suggested. She said it had something to do with support.

I have noticed that when I start the kick-off with the right foot, (while traveling), if I don't stay flat-footed there, my foot stays relaxed. I have also noticed if I just take it easy and stop trying to go as fast as a bike, I don't handle the bars with the aforementioned death-grip. Maybe if I take it easier I'll be able to trikke longer. After all, what is my hurry? I live in urban heaven here in Downtown Long Beach, CA. And Summer is coming...



And so my quest for the perfect shoe continues...



Nike -- any ideas?

Jake, the Master of the Nap