At a recent get together with some of my girlfriends, the topic of running came up. A few of us are running, a few of us are not. One would think that the runners would be raving about the benefits of running, trying to convince the non-runners that it’s the best thing ever! But instead we both just sort of scratched our heads and commiserated about how hard it is. I tried, unsuccessfully, to stumble my way through some sort of coherent list of reasons why I keep doing the thing that causes me pain, frustration, constant challenges, is hard, is uncomfortable, is…is….everything unpleasant about “exercise”. I just couldn’t seem to make any sense of it, in 10 words or less. I read an article today that suggested we all (runners) write down our reasons for running. First, because there are as many reasons as there are runners. Second, because the reasons we discover may surprise us.
I have to admit, running has become quite a passion. It's something I've always wanted to do but didn't really think I was any good at it. I ran once in high school...in Keds. I got shin splints and vowed I would never do that again. Then in my 20's I started running again, down the same creek trail I run down today! But the smoking and partying sort of got in the way. I never made it much past a mile or two. And here I am again (I have been known to beat a dead horse). This time I'm trying harder to do it "right", whatever that means. I feel like I should honor this strange, seemingly doomed passion and at least try to sort out my thoughts on the subject; try to crystallize, for myself and anyone else who may be interested, “Why I Run”, and maybe encourage others to make their own list of “why” they do something…anything. It's a pretty thought provoking and enlightening exercise!
But where would I even start?
Then this morning, on my leisurely walk home from the coffee shop after my 3 mile run, I saw an old man walking a cat down the creek trail and I understood (more on this later).
Physically, I have what I consider to be “inadequate lung capacity” (thank you, years of smoking), skinny calves/weak shins (a curse of the "long of leg"?) which forced me to take about 3 months to build up to running my first mile. I’ve never been naturally athletic. At all. Psychologically, I’m not the most disciplined person. I’m a bit lazy, and not super motivated by much – more Type B than Type A.
So from the most basic physical and psychological standpoint – running has helped me to overcome some physical shortcomings, improving both my cardiovascular and musculoskeletal systems. It is still hard. I still struggle a bit through tight shins at the beginning of every run and my lungs constantly remind me of my years of smoking, but both of these things have improved. These are probably just the tip of the iceberg as far as physical improvements to my health, but I'm no expert. There are also some improvements in the Psychological arena. I believe running has improved my discipline, thus improving my motivation, and my energy levels. So there’s that. But wait, there’s more!
Because of the challenges that running offers, there are also feelings of great accomplishment. I increase my distance and my speed, sometimes taking several steps backward and having to start over again (due to illness, injury, etc.). But I persevere because running has taught me that I can, and should, persevere. There are so many “you can’t”, “you’ll never”, “you won’t” in our lives. But running…This, I can. This, I am. This, I will.
The interesting thing about running accomplishments is that it doesn't matter the milestone. The feeling is the same. After taking an inordinate amount of time to build up to running my first solid mile several years ago, I cried with pure joy. Right there on the sidewalk. For running one mile. I feel the same when I finish a 5K or a 10K or a Half Marathon. Each accomplishment stands on its own. How about that?
When we launch ourselves on a voyage of self-discovery and improvement, do we simply improve ourselves in the areas that are the easiest and will offer the least amount of difficulty and resistance? Or do we dig deep, find the things that are the most difficult and challenging, and start there? For me, I think the latter is true. Self-improvement should naturally be difficult, whether it’s spiritual, emotional or physical. It’s hard and that’s ok. Otherwise we would all be “improved” without having to do anything! Wouldn’t that be interesting?
Not everyone should run. But I think everyone could benefit from finding something that challenges them, and then do it, repeatedly. Especially, if it is something you will never master. Think about that for a second. I bet there is something you are already doing that falls into that category. Why do you do it?
There are also many, more obvious reasons why I run. I am health conscious. It’s a great way to get a work out in when you don’t have a ton of time. No special equipment needed. I love the outdoors! I love to eat. A lot. I love getting to know my neighborhood in this way. I love having my own coffee shop. I get to listen to music. Sometimes I start the run with the intention of thinking through some issue or another, but at the end of the run, I realize I forgot to think at all! Except to think of my breath. So I suppose it's a type of meditation. I get to see old men walking their cats down the creek trail as I enjoy my coffee and my endorphin rush on a crisp sunny morning. Or I get to see a flock of geese adopt an ambitious husband and wife duck couple into their flock. For whatever reason, the endorphins, the challenge, the health benefits, the joy of being outdoors, the fresh air, whatever...I see things with greater joy and excitement. Even the mundane is spectacular. And I love to eat (did I say that already!?)
Wednesday, December 11, 2013
Wednesday, December 4, 2013
Gotta Run!
So much for blogging every week...
I had an entire blog post written and I lost it. I'm not holding out much hope for this one either, so I'll make it short.
November was really busy for us!
The Santa Barbara Half Marathon was November 9th. I had some IT Band issues around mile 9 and had to walk a few miles but managed to finish the last mile fairly strong. I really appreciate the people who come out to cheer as people race by them in varying degrees of pain and suffering!
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Rob turned 50 this year! A few weeks ago we headed up to Chico for the weekend to celebrate with friends. It was the first time we each got to bring our own "horse"! Rob's friend has a bike, and his girlfriend has a horse. The rest....was just perfect! Two days of riding, spectacular November weather, and good friends!
I've decided that instead of waiting for January 1st, I'm going to just go ahead and get a jump on my New Year's Resolution a few holidays early! So far, I've managed to keep off the 12 or so pounds (depending on the day). Why sabotage myself through the rest of the holiday season? I'm going to start shaving off those last 10 pounds. The holidays can be stressful enough, I don't want to add the lethargy, guilt, and bloating that over-indulging inevitably brings. No...this is going to be the gift I give myself for Christmas...taking care of myself! I might as well...I have to train for the San Francisco Half Marathon in February. Rob has also (believe it or not) started a slow and exploratory foray into the world of running and is going out with me on weekends. We are planning to do a Trail Run 10K on New Years Day (although we haven't officially signed up yet!). We can run or hike it, whatever he wants to do. We are both getting older. Why wait 'til January to make a commitment and concerted effort to take care of the one and only body that we'll have for...how long? Who knows. But I want to enjoy it while I can! Time flies and life is short, waiting is silly. Do it now.
I had an entire blog post written and I lost it. I'm not holding out much hope for this one either, so I'll make it short.
November was really busy for us!
The Santa Barbara Half Marathon was November 9th. I had some IT Band issues around mile 9 and had to walk a few miles but managed to finish the last mile fairly strong. I really appreciate the people who come out to cheer as people race by them in varying degrees of pain and suffering!
.jpg)
Rob turned 50 this year! A few weeks ago we headed up to Chico for the weekend to celebrate with friends. It was the first time we each got to bring our own "horse"! Rob's friend has a bike, and his girlfriend has a horse. The rest....was just perfect! Two days of riding, spectacular November weather, and good friends!
Here is Rob and I & Ron and Julie, all on our respective horses!
I've decided that instead of waiting for January 1st, I'm going to just go ahead and get a jump on my New Year's Resolution a few holidays early! So far, I've managed to keep off the 12 or so pounds (depending on the day). Why sabotage myself through the rest of the holiday season? I'm going to start shaving off those last 10 pounds. The holidays can be stressful enough, I don't want to add the lethargy, guilt, and bloating that over-indulging inevitably brings. No...this is going to be the gift I give myself for Christmas...taking care of myself! I might as well...I have to train for the San Francisco Half Marathon in February. Rob has also (believe it or not) started a slow and exploratory foray into the world of running and is going out with me on weekends. We are planning to do a Trail Run 10K on New Years Day (although we haven't officially signed up yet!). We can run or hike it, whatever he wants to do. We are both getting older. Why wait 'til January to make a commitment and concerted effort to take care of the one and only body that we'll have for...how long? Who knows. But I want to enjoy it while I can! Time flies and life is short, waiting is silly. Do it now.
Saturday, October 26, 2013
And The Winner Is....
When you look at the following two words, I want you to, without putting too much thought into it, choose the word that appeals to you the most (there are no right or wrong answers):
Winning
Trying
I'm going to be honest, and I hope I don't offend anyone, but for me, when I look at the word "winning" I think of a "winner". A somewhat self-congratulatory, uber-confident bad ass, who works very hard, admirably hard, toward his or her goal, but suffers a great consequence when there is no "win" despite all of their efforts. Much like the "tryer", they are driven to conquer their feelings of fear, and self-doubt and replace them with feelings of courage and confidence. They have something to prove to the world and/or to themselves. I'm not sure of their exact motivation, but for whatever reason, whatever it is that drives them also makes "losing" a crushing blow.
On the other hand, when I see the word "trying", I get butterflies of nervous excitement. Dare I? Can I? The word holds such a romantic connotation. What can be more heroic than trying? Even though I know that I may very likely fail, and fail miserably and embarrassingly at that, I will still try. I won't win first place, or second place, probably not even 30th in a field of 35. It's especially exciting when it's something I most definitely do not have a natural propensity for. The very fact that I am not a natural makes me feel giddy with the desire to try it. The "winners" may be annoyed that I'm trying. And do you know why? Because they know that I am gaining the same exact self congratulatory, uber-confident bad ass good feelings from trying that they are from winning. The caveat..there is no downside. There is no failing. There are no feelings of inadequacy or self-loathing or disappointment. Because at least I tried. I was brave and I tried. They were brave and they won. To me, there is no difference at all.
I'm not saying one way is better than the other, I'm not trying to be modest or humble here, because clearly, I am being neither with my self-congratulatory pat on the back for "trying". I'm just thinking 'n typing.....
I'm not really sure what made me think of this today. I ran a 10K last weekend and someone asked me "How did your race go?" First of all - I forgot it was a "race" with "places". In my mind, I thought that just trying to finish it was how you "won". I answered "It was great!" Then feeling like something else was being asked I added happily; "I wasn't last!"
It occurred to me then that I try a lot of things that I'm not just "not good" at, but am downright "bad" at. This goes for both myself and my horse. I push us...maybe somewhat haphazardly and with no real direction or plan, but I push us to do things that we aren't necessarily cut out for. And maybe we're kind of bad at a lot of the things we do. But we try, and it makes me feel brave and proud in a way that a "winner" would be appalled at. I'm pretty sure my horse feels brave and proud too.
Rob and I are kicking around the idea of writing some children's books with Maddie as the unlikely-hero character. I'll write them and Rob will illustrate. I think it sounds like a fun thing...to try!
Here are some pics of the 10K last weekend. I've got the Santa Barbara International Half Marathon in a few weeks. I'm gonna give it a go!
Winning
Trying
I'm going to be honest, and I hope I don't offend anyone, but for me, when I look at the word "winning" I think of a "winner". A somewhat self-congratulatory, uber-confident bad ass, who works very hard, admirably hard, toward his or her goal, but suffers a great consequence when there is no "win" despite all of their efforts. Much like the "tryer", they are driven to conquer their feelings of fear, and self-doubt and replace them with feelings of courage and confidence. They have something to prove to the world and/or to themselves. I'm not sure of their exact motivation, but for whatever reason, whatever it is that drives them also makes "losing" a crushing blow.
On the other hand, when I see the word "trying", I get butterflies of nervous excitement. Dare I? Can I? The word holds such a romantic connotation. What can be more heroic than trying? Even though I know that I may very likely fail, and fail miserably and embarrassingly at that, I will still try. I won't win first place, or second place, probably not even 30th in a field of 35. It's especially exciting when it's something I most definitely do not have a natural propensity for. The very fact that I am not a natural makes me feel giddy with the desire to try it. The "winners" may be annoyed that I'm trying. And do you know why? Because they know that I am gaining the same exact self congratulatory, uber-confident bad ass good feelings from trying that they are from winning. The caveat..there is no downside. There is no failing. There are no feelings of inadequacy or self-loathing or disappointment. Because at least I tried. I was brave and I tried. They were brave and they won. To me, there is no difference at all.
I'm not saying one way is better than the other, I'm not trying to be modest or humble here, because clearly, I am being neither with my self-congratulatory pat on the back for "trying". I'm just thinking 'n typing.....
I'm not really sure what made me think of this today. I ran a 10K last weekend and someone asked me "How did your race go?" First of all - I forgot it was a "race" with "places". In my mind, I thought that just trying to finish it was how you "won". I answered "It was great!" Then feeling like something else was being asked I added happily; "I wasn't last!"
It occurred to me then that I try a lot of things that I'm not just "not good" at, but am downright "bad" at. This goes for both myself and my horse. I push us...maybe somewhat haphazardly and with no real direction or plan, but I push us to do things that we aren't necessarily cut out for. And maybe we're kind of bad at a lot of the things we do. But we try, and it makes me feel brave and proud in a way that a "winner" would be appalled at. I'm pretty sure my horse feels brave and proud too.
Rob and I are kicking around the idea of writing some children's books with Maddie as the unlikely-hero character. I'll write them and Rob will illustrate. I think it sounds like a fun thing...to try!
Here are some pics of the 10K last weekend. I've got the Santa Barbara International Half Marathon in a few weeks. I'm gonna give it a go!
Friday, October 18, 2013
It's All The Rage!
I discovered a new work out the other day. If you like shopping (I don't really, unless it's for jeans which I have a small addiction to), here's a way to kill two birds with one stone! It's not really enjoyable, but it is slightly awkward and embarrassing, much like your typical spin class. The caveat is that you get to go home with a really cute pair of jeans (or two) and a funny story. I'm talking about shopping for "skinny jeans". It was my goal...my mission...to find the pair of perfectly fitting, snug but not "People of Walmart" snug, skinny jeans. My theory is that with no excess give anywhere, not even one unused or wasted molecule of fabric, I will be vacuum sealed into gorgeously forgiving stretchy denim goodness.
Everything was fine, at first. l started out in the "Women's Department". But just as I suspected, lady-sized "skinny jeans" are not truly skinny. At least not skinny enough. There was no "Wow!" factor. Just some mediocre snug fitting thick denim blah-jeans. So I meandered over to the "High Fashion" aka "Super Freaking Amazingly Cute and Exorbitantly Expensive" jeans department. I knew I was going to head over there eventually....that's where my beloved True Religion jeans are. But I was waiting, I was calculating, I was trying on ugly jeans first so that the high I felt when I finally shimmied into a pair of my TR jeans would be even more delicious (I am so weird about my denim shopping habits that I'm beginning to think it's a kind of peculiar fetish).
So I do my typical "wander over". Please...I invite you to hop on board the crazy train with me. This is my process: I start in the far corner of the store and move in the general direction of my goal locale, trying not to bump into people or stupid sweater racks as I keep my eyes carefully averted until I am finally close enough to allow myself to slowly...reverently, lift my face toward the row upon row, rack upon rack of gorgeous, glorious, fashionable denim. I allow my solemn gaze to rest upon and delight in this magical world for few moments, my eyes becoming soft and light. A small, almost timid smile transforms my once pensive demeanor in to one of quiet and happy servitude. An audible sigh escapes from my now parted lips, even as I struggle to maintain my composure. My nervously racing pulse slows to a melodic, almost hypnotic drum beat...thump...thump.......thump...urging me forward, content now and pliant. I am a simple marionette, controlled by a higher power, the power of good quality denim (oh my gosh, I think I need help). Anyway, I made it. I stand. I stare. I dig in.
I grab several pair of different brands of skinny jeans and head for the dressing room. The Miss Me's are too small (as if I'm going to buy a pair of those in a size bigger than I think I should be wearing!), the 7 For All Mankind are sort of "mom jean" looking (I realize I didn't grab the skinny cut, just the regular which I don't care for in that brand. I'll have to head back out). Saving the best for last, I nervously start to stick my trembling legs into the first pair of True Religion jeans...I have to work pretty hard. I mean...really hard. I jump up and down, I wiggle around, I do the full body wave, I pull them up inch by inch like I was pulling on a pair of tights (which is why I don't wear tights). What the HELL? I finally get them buttoned and they looked so freaking stupid! I'm aghast, crestfallen, truly shocked and completely let down (you get the idea). Then I glance at the tag and realize that I grabbed a pair of "legging jeans". Stop it! I felt ridiculous and slightly duped standing there in "legging jeans".
Off. I wanted them OFF! And here is where the work out began. Let's just say it took a bit of time and some Herculean effort to get these stupid things off. I was sweating, and cursing, occasionally laughing like a mad woman, red faced, mortified but also having the most hysterically funny moment I can remember in a dressing room. I was so weakened by the exercise that the next 27 pair of jeans I tried on nearly killed me...each one becoming increasingly more difficult to peel off and on as my muscles screamed at me to just forget this nonsense and go for a run if I need a cardio blast! The whole experience gave new meaning to the word "pant".
After getting stuck in not one, but several pair of skinny jeans, one would think I would leave the store defeated (and maybe with a super hot pair of boot cut or straight cut jeans!). But not I. I persevered. I think it was Louis L'Amour who said "Victory is won not in miles but in inches..." He was probably talking about war but whatever.
I left victorious and with these two pair of skinny (not legging) jeans. 7 For All Mankind on the left, True Religion on the right. I just love how they name jeans to make you feel like buying them is an altruistic or spiritual act...ha ha ha.....ha ha....ha.
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Heading to the Grand Nationals Rodeo tonight. The question is...which jeans do I wear?
Everything was fine, at first. l started out in the "Women's Department". But just as I suspected, lady-sized "skinny jeans" are not truly skinny. At least not skinny enough. There was no "Wow!" factor. Just some mediocre snug fitting thick denim blah-jeans. So I meandered over to the "High Fashion" aka "Super Freaking Amazingly Cute and Exorbitantly Expensive" jeans department. I knew I was going to head over there eventually....that's where my beloved True Religion jeans are. But I was waiting, I was calculating, I was trying on ugly jeans first so that the high I felt when I finally shimmied into a pair of my TR jeans would be even more delicious (I am so weird about my denim shopping habits that I'm beginning to think it's a kind of peculiar fetish).
So I do my typical "wander over". Please...I invite you to hop on board the crazy train with me. This is my process: I start in the far corner of the store and move in the general direction of my goal locale, trying not to bump into people or stupid sweater racks as I keep my eyes carefully averted until I am finally close enough to allow myself to slowly...reverently, lift my face toward the row upon row, rack upon rack of gorgeous, glorious, fashionable denim. I allow my solemn gaze to rest upon and delight in this magical world for few moments, my eyes becoming soft and light. A small, almost timid smile transforms my once pensive demeanor in to one of quiet and happy servitude. An audible sigh escapes from my now parted lips, even as I struggle to maintain my composure. My nervously racing pulse slows to a melodic, almost hypnotic drum beat...thump...thump.......thump...urging me forward, content now and pliant. I am a simple marionette, controlled by a higher power, the power of good quality denim (oh my gosh, I think I need help). Anyway, I made it. I stand. I stare. I dig in.
I grab several pair of different brands of skinny jeans and head for the dressing room. The Miss Me's are too small (as if I'm going to buy a pair of those in a size bigger than I think I should be wearing!), the 7 For All Mankind are sort of "mom jean" looking (I realize I didn't grab the skinny cut, just the regular which I don't care for in that brand. I'll have to head back out). Saving the best for last, I nervously start to stick my trembling legs into the first pair of True Religion jeans...I have to work pretty hard. I mean...really hard. I jump up and down, I wiggle around, I do the full body wave, I pull them up inch by inch like I was pulling on a pair of tights (which is why I don't wear tights). What the HELL? I finally get them buttoned and they looked so freaking stupid! I'm aghast, crestfallen, truly shocked and completely let down (you get the idea). Then I glance at the tag and realize that I grabbed a pair of "legging jeans". Stop it! I felt ridiculous and slightly duped standing there in "legging jeans".
Off. I wanted them OFF! And here is where the work out began. Let's just say it took a bit of time and some Herculean effort to get these stupid things off. I was sweating, and cursing, occasionally laughing like a mad woman, red faced, mortified but also having the most hysterically funny moment I can remember in a dressing room. I was so weakened by the exercise that the next 27 pair of jeans I tried on nearly killed me...each one becoming increasingly more difficult to peel off and on as my muscles screamed at me to just forget this nonsense and go for a run if I need a cardio blast! The whole experience gave new meaning to the word "pant".
After getting stuck in not one, but several pair of skinny jeans, one would think I would leave the store defeated (and maybe with a super hot pair of boot cut or straight cut jeans!). But not I. I persevered. I think it was Louis L'Amour who said "Victory is won not in miles but in inches..." He was probably talking about war but whatever.
I left victorious and with these two pair of skinny (not legging) jeans. 7 For All Mankind on the left, True Religion on the right. I just love how they name jeans to make you feel like buying them is an altruistic or spiritual act...ha ha ha.....ha ha....ha.
.JPG)
Heading to the Grand Nationals Rodeo tonight. The question is...which jeans do I wear?
Wednesday, October 9, 2013
I'm Still A Loser!
In my last blog post, I mentioned that my weight was holding steady....and steady...and I mean really steady. Literally, I have been weighing in at exactly 157.4 every day for a week. I understand plateaus, and I don't mind the weight I am now, but come on! I'm still walking, running and I've recently added hiking back in. I've been very committed to the "no wheat/gluten/excessive sugar/salt/starchy carbs" life style, and yet things just weren't adding up.
So this morning I weighed in at my usual 157.4 (digital scale), then went to my mom's house to feed her cats, decided to hop on her scale (also digital), and lo and behold, it was 156.5 - with clothes on. So I did what any sane person would do - went to Bed, Bath and Beyond, laid 15 different scales out in the main aisle (linoleum) and compared - hopping on and off like I was in a Dance Dance Revolution dance-off! The digital scales were all over the map. But the one analog scale they had consistently weighed me in at 156...over and over and over (the sales woman came over to let me know that the spring can wear out in those over time, with repeated use). So I bought it, raced home and tore off my clothes to get a more "accurate" reading and I'm 155! And that's after 16 ounces of coffee. Woot! So that is a 15 pound loss so far, and I like this scale...it's a friendly, happy scale.
In addition to my new eating lifestyle, I've become addicted to canning. Yes. I found myself in the possession of a ton of peppers from the ranch garden and thought I would try my hand at pepper jelly. The first batch turned out a little runny, the 2nd batch is much firmer. I'm looking at my yard through "mason goggles" now, wondering what else I can put in a jar! I love everything about it...from preparing the jars and prepping the vegetables, to making the jelly, filling the jars, the sealing process, and most of all - giving them away! I feel very efficient, slightly traditional and old fashioned (sometimes listening to Etta James and wearing a cute apron!) who will be giving creative and tasty Christmas gifts this year! (I hope)
I think I also like it because I love produce, it's relatively easy and I can be successful at making something. As some of you know, I love to be in the kitchen, but we have had to order pizza on occasion when things "don't work out". It's not for lack of trying or lack of enthusiasm (Rob will tell you that I sometimes get so excited in my kitchen, I break out in song and dance), It's just that it's a skill that I wasn't born with that I'm trying to acquire...it's more than a skill, it's an art form! I think I am slowly becoming a successful food artist!
Here are the peppers. Aren't they gorgeous?
And the finished product (these are pictures of the first batch which was a little runny...still good!):
I just harvested our Persimmon tree and can't wait to find some good recipes:
I'm hoping our Blood Oranges ripen before Christmas because I think they would make an excellent marmalade! Also waiting for our apples...apple butter?
And now for a Horse Break! I've decided that if I have limited time and have to choose between getting a run in, or exercising my horse, I'm going to do both!
She is an excellent running partner for many reasons - she doesn't have to stop and go potty all the time, slowing down my pace, she isn't even remotely interested in chasing squirrels or other dogs, our "jogging" pace is the same, but mostly because I can hop on when I get tired!
And here she is playing with her friends. She's the one that doesn't look like an ex-racehorse (which her two friends are).
All in all - it's shaping up to be a really fabulous Fall and I'm looking forward to rainy evenings in my kitchen making all manner of soups and canning my entire back yard!
So this morning I weighed in at my usual 157.4 (digital scale), then went to my mom's house to feed her cats, decided to hop on her scale (also digital), and lo and behold, it was 156.5 - with clothes on. So I did what any sane person would do - went to Bed, Bath and Beyond, laid 15 different scales out in the main aisle (linoleum) and compared - hopping on and off like I was in a Dance Dance Revolution dance-off! The digital scales were all over the map. But the one analog scale they had consistently weighed me in at 156...over and over and over (the sales woman came over to let me know that the spring can wear out in those over time, with repeated use). So I bought it, raced home and tore off my clothes to get a more "accurate" reading and I'm 155! And that's after 16 ounces of coffee. Woot! So that is a 15 pound loss so far, and I like this scale...it's a friendly, happy scale.
In addition to my new eating lifestyle, I've become addicted to canning. Yes. I found myself in the possession of a ton of peppers from the ranch garden and thought I would try my hand at pepper jelly. The first batch turned out a little runny, the 2nd batch is much firmer. I'm looking at my yard through "mason goggles" now, wondering what else I can put in a jar! I love everything about it...from preparing the jars and prepping the vegetables, to making the jelly, filling the jars, the sealing process, and most of all - giving them away! I feel very efficient, slightly traditional and old fashioned (sometimes listening to Etta James and wearing a cute apron!) who will be giving creative and tasty Christmas gifts this year! (I hope)
I think I also like it because I love produce, it's relatively easy and I can be successful at making something. As some of you know, I love to be in the kitchen, but we have had to order pizza on occasion when things "don't work out". It's not for lack of trying or lack of enthusiasm (Rob will tell you that I sometimes get so excited in my kitchen, I break out in song and dance), It's just that it's a skill that I wasn't born with that I'm trying to acquire...it's more than a skill, it's an art form! I think I am slowly becoming a successful food artist!
Here are the peppers. Aren't they gorgeous?
And the finished product (these are pictures of the first batch which was a little runny...still good!):
The small crackers are gluten-free and everyone seemed to prefer them to the others. You can buy them at Safeway in the baking section fyi. We tried the pepper jelly with blue cheese Stilton, herbed goat cheese and peaches and then Thai spiced and Italian sausages as a dipping sauce. It goes with everything!
I just harvested our Persimmon tree and can't wait to find some good recipes:
And now for a Horse Break! I've decided that if I have limited time and have to choose between getting a run in, or exercising my horse, I'm going to do both!
She is an excellent running partner for many reasons - she doesn't have to stop and go potty all the time, slowing down my pace, she isn't even remotely interested in chasing squirrels or other dogs, our "jogging" pace is the same, but mostly because I can hop on when I get tired!
And here she is playing with her friends. She's the one that doesn't look like an ex-racehorse (which her two friends are).
All in all - it's shaping up to be a really fabulous Fall and I'm looking forward to rainy evenings in my kitchen making all manner of soups and canning my entire back yard!
Tuesday, October 1, 2013
Steady As She Goes....
Hi there!
I'm holding steady, no gain or loss and I feel pretty fine about staying here a while. This might be my "ideal weight", but we'll see. At this point, I'm just letting my body do it's thang!
Speaking of which...I've experimented a bit. While deciding to stay on the strictest phase of the Dukan diet through October, I've had a few "slips". I was at a friend's vineyard for a weekend of wine and pork BBQ (we call it Swinestock) and someone, who shall remain nameless, brought the most decadent home made deserts - chocolate "corks", nutter butter and oreo cookies - a very rich, grown up version. I went a little over board and paid for it dearly that night and for the few days following (thanks to the wisdom of layering Chinese food on top of an already "meh" feeling stomach). After not experiencing ANY acid reflux since starting Dukan (which has plagued me almost nightly for 15 years), I woke up one night (after the aforementioned slips) and thought I was going to have to wake Rob to take me to the ER. I thought I was having a heart attack, the pain went all the way around to my back and it felt like I had some iron torture device tightened around my chest.
The thought has occurred to me that I might be making my food sensitivities worse by avoidance, but I don't think "building up a tolerance" is the healthiest idea either. I feel so much better now anyway that I'm going to keep on keeping on! I've at least narrowed it down to a few things that I know make me feel bad:
Baked goods - OUT (This I already knew and don't typically crave this kind of sweet anyway). Chinese food - OUT (The bad, fried, tastes so yummy 'cause it's bad for you kind)
Corn Tortillas - OK.
Wine - OK. (Whew!)
Dark Chocolate - OK. (Woot!)
I haven't tried bread or pasta yet, but to be honest, I'm having fun making my own non-bread bread (see picture below) and I don't miss pasta. I figure if I need it, my body will crave it, and it doesn't so......
So there you have it! I am now one of those extremely annoying "food intolerants". You know...the people who expound the virtues of their new diets and will tell you, in great detail, all of the intestinal issues caused by gluten and sugar. Ha!
On the horse front - my new exciting adventure is to teach my horse to be ridden bareback and bridle less! I just use a neck rope, maybe one day I won't have to use anything. So far it's going well. I have dreams of spandex glitter suits and Rodeo arena half time shows! Or whatever they call them....
I'm holding steady, no gain or loss and I feel pretty fine about staying here a while. This might be my "ideal weight", but we'll see. At this point, I'm just letting my body do it's thang!
Speaking of which...I've experimented a bit. While deciding to stay on the strictest phase of the Dukan diet through October, I've had a few "slips". I was at a friend's vineyard for a weekend of wine and pork BBQ (we call it Swinestock) and someone, who shall remain nameless, brought the most decadent home made deserts - chocolate "corks", nutter butter and oreo cookies - a very rich, grown up version. I went a little over board and paid for it dearly that night and for the few days following (thanks to the wisdom of layering Chinese food on top of an already "meh" feeling stomach). After not experiencing ANY acid reflux since starting Dukan (which has plagued me almost nightly for 15 years), I woke up one night (after the aforementioned slips) and thought I was going to have to wake Rob to take me to the ER. I thought I was having a heart attack, the pain went all the way around to my back and it felt like I had some iron torture device tightened around my chest.
The thought has occurred to me that I might be making my food sensitivities worse by avoidance, but I don't think "building up a tolerance" is the healthiest idea either. I feel so much better now anyway that I'm going to keep on keeping on! I've at least narrowed it down to a few things that I know make me feel bad:
Baked goods - OUT (This I already knew and don't typically crave this kind of sweet anyway). Chinese food - OUT (The bad, fried, tastes so yummy 'cause it's bad for you kind)
Corn Tortillas - OK.
Wine - OK. (Whew!)
Dark Chocolate - OK. (Woot!)
I haven't tried bread or pasta yet, but to be honest, I'm having fun making my own non-bread bread (see picture below) and I don't miss pasta. I figure if I need it, my body will crave it, and it doesn't so......
Yummy!!
So there you have it! I am now one of those extremely annoying "food intolerants". You know...the people who expound the virtues of their new diets and will tell you, in great detail, all of the intestinal issues caused by gluten and sugar. Ha!
On the horse front - my new exciting adventure is to teach my horse to be ridden bareback and bridle less! I just use a neck rope, maybe one day I won't have to use anything. So far it's going well. I have dreams of spandex glitter suits and Rodeo arena half time shows! Or whatever they call them....
Wednesday, August 7, 2013
Here I Am!
May 29th is the last time I blogged, really?
I have been so busy. Work is pretty slow right now, but we've been having a lot of summer fun!
My lap top doesn't allow me to blog anymore (don't ask me why). Today I finally figured out I can use my husband's computer!
My horse/mistress demands all of my spare time and change! We've been progressing along pretty slowly and steadily. I'm very proud of her performance in our first ever schooling show in July! No big wins, but she did everything I asked, exactly how I asked her to do it. She is brilliant, I don't care that she's not a Quarter Horse and is outmatched in athleticism and brawn. Her brains are what I love the most, and she's got them in spades! And heart. Plus she looks very pretty and fancy doing what she does. I like pretty and fancy horses.
Rob and I just got back from a 10 day motorcycle trip up to Seattle and back. Wow, that was fun! I feel like such a wanderer, an adventurer! Yet perfectly happy to stick (fairly) close to home. I've never had the desire to travel abroad. The best adventures to me are the ones slightly familiar and safe but with an element of whimsy and risk, and definitely the less planned out the better. I guess I'm a "tentative adventurer"! Long motorcycle rides are perfect! A little bit CrAzY! But not too much so. Just like me! : )
We had a great time with friends and family!
The only dietary disaster of my vacation is actually a blessing in disguise. I eat fairly healthfully, and even though I haven't lost any weight, I've been feeling pretty healthy and sort of "on my way" (any day now.....). I know I'm carb sensitive, like many people are. Probably a little higher on the scale than average, so I tend to avoid over doing it.
Well, for 10 days I ate more bread, crackers and chips that I have in a long time. As a result, about a day before our trip was over, I started to have really bad stomach cramps with a little bit of nausea. I thought it was food poisoning but Rob and I ate the same things. We got home and for a week I felt ill - cramping, indigestion, heartburn, etc. We went camping the following weekend and I kept on shoveling crackers and cheese into my mouth. On the way home we stopped at Black Bear Diner. I ordered biscuits and gravy, which is a guilty pleasure. I took one bite and realized then and there that not only was I about to be sick right there on the counter, but that I just couldn't do this any more. That it was this kind of food that was making me sick. The waiter asked me if the food was ok. I said it was ok. I mumbled something about having a late night...
I started the Dukan Diet that day. Within 24 hours, all symptoms were gone. I'm on day three of the "Attack" phase which is pure protein - lean meat, dairy, and oat bran galettes (my new bread). No fruit, no vegetables, and no starch. None.
Tomorrow I add in vegetables every other day until I reach my target weight, which Dr. Dukan and I both agree is 145 lbs. (I'm 165 now). I've lost 5 already, which I know is water, but that's also a sign of my carb sensitivity. The entire time on vacation, from the moment we rolled into Bend, I couldn't take my wedding ring off. I thought it was elevation (haha), such denial. I'd been eating bread and crap for a few days leading up to vacation. Sort of in a "pre-vacation-oh-hell-I-give-up-already" celebratory way.
It's OVER.
We'll see what happens. I'm not going to blab the results, or lack thereof, all over facebook every day. My diet is a choice resulting from a combination of physical and psychological elements that are personal and I don't feel like celebrating it or defending it or discussing it with anyone unless they're interested. In which case I'll spill my guts, just ask anyone!
When I do reach my goal weight, what then? Why do I need to? Am I trying to lose weight? Or just feel better? Eating to feel good might result in weight loss. It seems like that's the idea. Will I be happier? I can barely remember what it felt like to weight 145. I think I enjoyed clothes shopping more. Being naked was more fun. Being in a swim suit wasn't even "thought worthy". But was I "happier? I don't know. I'm kind of excited to feel whatever it will feel like. If it's good, I'll shout it from the roof tops. If it's not, I'll eat whatever I want until I get fat again and lay this thing to rest once and for all.
See you on the roof top!
I have been so busy. Work is pretty slow right now, but we've been having a lot of summer fun!
My lap top doesn't allow me to blog anymore (don't ask me why). Today I finally figured out I can use my husband's computer!
My horse/mistress demands all of my spare time and change! We've been progressing along pretty slowly and steadily. I'm very proud of her performance in our first ever schooling show in July! No big wins, but she did everything I asked, exactly how I asked her to do it. She is brilliant, I don't care that she's not a Quarter Horse and is outmatched in athleticism and brawn. Her brains are what I love the most, and she's got them in spades! And heart. Plus she looks very pretty and fancy doing what she does. I like pretty and fancy horses.
Rob and I just got back from a 10 day motorcycle trip up to Seattle and back. Wow, that was fun! I feel like such a wanderer, an adventurer! Yet perfectly happy to stick (fairly) close to home. I've never had the desire to travel abroad. The best adventures to me are the ones slightly familiar and safe but with an element of whimsy and risk, and definitely the less planned out the better. I guess I'm a "tentative adventurer"! Long motorcycle rides are perfect! A little bit CrAzY! But not too much so. Just like me! : )
We had a great time with friends and family!
The only dietary disaster of my vacation is actually a blessing in disguise. I eat fairly healthfully, and even though I haven't lost any weight, I've been feeling pretty healthy and sort of "on my way" (any day now.....). I know I'm carb sensitive, like many people are. Probably a little higher on the scale than average, so I tend to avoid over doing it.
Well, for 10 days I ate more bread, crackers and chips that I have in a long time. As a result, about a day before our trip was over, I started to have really bad stomach cramps with a little bit of nausea. I thought it was food poisoning but Rob and I ate the same things. We got home and for a week I felt ill - cramping, indigestion, heartburn, etc. We went camping the following weekend and I kept on shoveling crackers and cheese into my mouth. On the way home we stopped at Black Bear Diner. I ordered biscuits and gravy, which is a guilty pleasure. I took one bite and realized then and there that not only was I about to be sick right there on the counter, but that I just couldn't do this any more. That it was this kind of food that was making me sick. The waiter asked me if the food was ok. I said it was ok. I mumbled something about having a late night...
I started the Dukan Diet that day. Within 24 hours, all symptoms were gone. I'm on day three of the "Attack" phase which is pure protein - lean meat, dairy, and oat bran galettes (my new bread). No fruit, no vegetables, and no starch. None.
Tomorrow I add in vegetables every other day until I reach my target weight, which Dr. Dukan and I both agree is 145 lbs. (I'm 165 now). I've lost 5 already, which I know is water, but that's also a sign of my carb sensitivity. The entire time on vacation, from the moment we rolled into Bend, I couldn't take my wedding ring off. I thought it was elevation (haha), such denial. I'd been eating bread and crap for a few days leading up to vacation. Sort of in a "pre-vacation-oh-hell-I-give-up-already" celebratory way.
It's OVER.
We'll see what happens. I'm not going to blab the results, or lack thereof, all over facebook every day. My diet is a choice resulting from a combination of physical and psychological elements that are personal and I don't feel like celebrating it or defending it or discussing it with anyone unless they're interested. In which case I'll spill my guts, just ask anyone!
When I do reach my goal weight, what then? Why do I need to? Am I trying to lose weight? Or just feel better? Eating to feel good might result in weight loss. It seems like that's the idea. Will I be happier? I can barely remember what it felt like to weight 145. I think I enjoyed clothes shopping more. Being naked was more fun. Being in a swim suit wasn't even "thought worthy". But was I "happier? I don't know. I'm kind of excited to feel whatever it will feel like. If it's good, I'll shout it from the roof tops. If it's not, I'll eat whatever I want until I get fat again and lay this thing to rest once and for all.
See you on the roof top!
Wednesday, May 29, 2013
Oops! I Did It Again....
I signed up for another half marathon, even though I swore up and down that the 2010 San Jose Rock & Roll Half Marathon would be my last. I think I actually stopped running after that one. I remember it being a very positive "overall" experience. Other than the months leading up to it trying to train through a mild bout of whooping cough....then there was the back pain the week before and the day of (my body trying to give me one last excuse), and of course after crossing the finish line my legs didn't work for awhile....the pain...Ah yes!It's all coming back to me now.
This time things will be a little different. First of all, it's in Santa Barbara and I've never been there (can you believe it?). Second, I hope to train properly with the help of my friend and running coach Meghan (who will be running the full marathon!). Oh yes, I forgot to mention...she was over for dinner the other night and after a few glasses of wine she somehow got me all fired up to run this one. I was going to shrug it off the next day as a "wine inspired" bad idea, but it's actually sounding pretty fun. So here we go...again!
This time things will be a little different. First of all, it's in Santa Barbara and I've never been there (can you believe it?). Second, I hope to train properly with the help of my friend and running coach Meghan (who will be running the full marathon!). Oh yes, I forgot to mention...she was over for dinner the other night and after a few glasses of wine she somehow got me all fired up to run this one. I was going to shrug it off the next day as a "wine inspired" bad idea, but it's actually sounding pretty fun. So here we go...again!
Wednesday, May 22, 2013
Retail (I Now Need) Therapy
I bought a new Weight Watchers bathroom scale that measures all kinds of stuff like body fat, bone density, BMI, etc. How exciting!
While I've only lost 7 pounds, I was excited to see that my body fat percentage puts me in the "Fit" category for a woman my age! But then I saw on another site that I'm just "Fair" or "Average". So I've downloaded the first graph and that's the one I'll be using.
I went to Macy's today to get another pair of my favorite True Religion jeans since my old ones ripped (by no fault of my own). I figured I was ready for the next size smaller anyway. I got sidetracked by the swimsuit section and against my better judgement, decided I should try on some bikinis...since I'm fit now and all.
The bad news is that I will not be wearing the one on the right just yet.
And (drum roll please) here are my new True Religions in a size smaller! Yes...I took a picture of my butt. Yes...I'm showing you a picture of my butt. The point being....they are a smaller size. I tried to go even one size smaller (the waist gaps a bit) but the sales woman assured me that these are the right size. Hey, you can't blame a girl for trying! (to fit into the smallest possible size that doesn't require pliers and a bed...c'mon we've all been there)
While I've only lost 7 pounds, I was excited to see that my body fat percentage puts me in the "Fit" category for a woman my age! But then I saw on another site that I'm just "Fair" or "Average". So I've downloaded the first graph and that's the one I'll be using.
I went to Macy's today to get another pair of my favorite True Religion jeans since my old ones ripped (by no fault of my own). I figured I was ready for the next size smaller anyway. I got sidetracked by the swimsuit section and against my better judgement, decided I should try on some bikinis...since I'm fit now and all.
The bad news is that I will not be wearing the one on the right just yet.
The good news is that I didn't crumple into a sloppy blubbering sobbing mess only to have the sales woman come in with a white chocolate mocha with double whip to console me (that's never happened but it's a fantasy of mine). The one on the left was kind of o.k.
I found this cute top! The sparkles and strange diagonal stripes help to camouflage the muffin top by confusing and distracting (blinding) the eye of the beholder. I love it.
And (drum roll please) here are my new True Religions in a size smaller! Yes...I took a picture of my butt. Yes...I'm showing you a picture of my butt. The point being....they are a smaller size. I tried to go even one size smaller (the waist gaps a bit) but the sales woman assured me that these are the right size. Hey, you can't blame a girl for trying! (to fit into the smallest possible size that doesn't require pliers and a bed...c'mon we've all been there)
So I'm almost about halfway to my goal. My goal being to wear the swimsuit on the right and not need to use trickery and hijinks to camouflage my "trouble spots". I think I can, I think I can....!
Tuesday, May 14, 2013
Where Have I Been?
It's been six weeks since I've blogged last!? That's gotta be a record. I knew I would be a record-breaking success at something!
Actually, I'm doing quite well with "all things in general". Perhaps it's the struggles that provide fuel for the creative fire...of my blogging...in my veins? (See what I mean? I am totally un-inspired.)
I've just been so busy!
Riding with Ray Berta once a month has been incredible. Not just because he's in Carmel Valley, which is one of the most beautiful places on earth, but because Ray is an amazing horseman. My riding has improved, my horse is pissed, just kidding....she actually seems to be happier now that I'm learning her language and we're actually getting somewhere. Ray is also quite handy with a rope, being a third generation cattle rancher on the Berta Ranch. So I'm learning some ranch roping from him as well!
When Maddie and I are not in serious "training", we're having a lot of adventures! We've ridden on the beach (not really that much fun. I was disappointed, she was terrified), in the hills, to several wineries (that's right, we did the Spring Stampede Wine Ride in April), sorting cows, practicing our ranch roping skills (or lack thereof), we went to a bomb proofing clinic, I've joined the California Horseman's Association and their 'Trail Riders Awards Program' (logging hours on the trail...might win something!), and because my horse is game for just about anything, I thought she might enjoy being part of the Alameda County Sheriff's Department Volunteer Mounted Posse Unit - as a patrol horse, parade horse, general awesomely important horse. We're somewhere in the application process. They provide support to the Sheriff's Department at events like rodeos, sporting events (i.e. Oakland Raiders games), etc. as well as some fun PR; Color Guard, Parades, etc. They're a top notch group of people, hope we're up for it. I really really really really like the uniforms.
I think I mentioned in my last post that I've started running again....with an awesome coach this time! I have a friend who recently graduated from Santa Clara University and was on the track team. She is incredibly mean and doesn't seem to understand that I'm super old (I'm just kidding, she's greeeeaaaaat). She's inspiring me and holding me accountable, so I'm up to a couple of miles and have been running consistently, 3 days a week, for about two months now. It feels great to be running again. I'm hiking and walking on the off days. I've lost about 8 pounds so far. I'm also back on Weight Watchers because I like eating a wide variety of foods and love their recipes (and for some reason, I don't make them unless I'm actually on Weight Watchers, which makes no sense at all....?)
And I actually do still have a full time job...which might help explain why I've been MIA. I guess I've got a lot going on....not to be confused with "I've got it going on", which I pretty much do as well.
The picture insert option is working again! Here is a "catch up" montage:
Actually, I'm doing quite well with "all things in general". Perhaps it's the struggles that provide fuel for the creative fire...of my blogging...in my veins? (See what I mean? I am totally un-inspired.)
I've just been so busy!
Riding with Ray Berta once a month has been incredible. Not just because he's in Carmel Valley, which is one of the most beautiful places on earth, but because Ray is an amazing horseman. My riding has improved, my horse is pissed, just kidding....she actually seems to be happier now that I'm learning her language and we're actually getting somewhere. Ray is also quite handy with a rope, being a third generation cattle rancher on the Berta Ranch. So I'm learning some ranch roping from him as well!
When Maddie and I are not in serious "training", we're having a lot of adventures! We've ridden on the beach (not really that much fun. I was disappointed, she was terrified), in the hills, to several wineries (that's right, we did the Spring Stampede Wine Ride in April), sorting cows, practicing our ranch roping skills (or lack thereof), we went to a bomb proofing clinic, I've joined the California Horseman's Association and their 'Trail Riders Awards Program' (logging hours on the trail...might win something!), and because my horse is game for just about anything, I thought she might enjoy being part of the Alameda County Sheriff's Department Volunteer Mounted Posse Unit - as a patrol horse, parade horse, general awesomely important horse. We're somewhere in the application process. They provide support to the Sheriff's Department at events like rodeos, sporting events (i.e. Oakland Raiders games), etc. as well as some fun PR; Color Guard, Parades, etc. They're a top notch group of people, hope we're up for it. I really really really really like the uniforms.
I think I mentioned in my last post that I've started running again....with an awesome coach this time! I have a friend who recently graduated from Santa Clara University and was on the track team. She is incredibly mean and doesn't seem to understand that I'm super old (I'm just kidding, she's greeeeaaaaat). She's inspiring me and holding me accountable, so I'm up to a couple of miles and have been running consistently, 3 days a week, for about two months now. It feels great to be running again. I'm hiking and walking on the off days. I've lost about 8 pounds so far. I'm also back on Weight Watchers because I like eating a wide variety of foods and love their recipes (and for some reason, I don't make them unless I'm actually on Weight Watchers, which makes no sense at all....?)
And I actually do still have a full time job...which might help explain why I've been MIA. I guess I've got a lot going on....not to be confused with "I've got it going on", which I pretty much do as well.
The picture insert option is working again! Here is a "catch up" montage:
"Working the gate" at Ron Butler's Ranch after bringing some cows in
Riding with friends in the Sunol Wilderness Area
You really can't have a horse without riding through a fast food drive through at least once....
The Bill Dorrance Memorial Arena at the Carmel Valley Trail & Saddle Club
Bombproofing Clinic!
Movin' cows around on the neighbor's ranch
Our trek up Mount Diablo
Sorting Practice
One of our many solo rides - this one to Lake Del Valle
Relaxing with some fellow cowgirls after a ride
Sometimes we just hike together...
Wine ride!
Maddie terrified on the beach
Oh yeah....and we're still doing lot's of thisssssssssss!!!!
Wednesday, March 27, 2013
I Swear I Don't Need Meds
But I'm all over the place with this blog. I seem to have run out of steam with the "Maddie and Me" story. It's still all up here (pointing at my head), but it's not ready to be shared yet. Except for little pieces of exciting news here and there. (Spoiler alert! There's one down below!)
I don't think I need to necessarily change the name of the blog just yet either because I am still trying to be fit and healthy. I started running again! I have a coach this time. A friend of mine ran track for Santa Clara University and has kindly offered to kick my ass. I'm so grateful! She's got me on some interval torture training program. It does seem to help to be accountable. If I don't brag about my runs for a few days, I'll invariably get a text message: "Are you running today?"
I'm also carb-cycling to try to slim down a bit. I don't like to eat a ton of carbs because of the way they make me feel, but the thought of "no carbs ever" is just depressing. With carb-cycling I don't have to count calories, it's just assumed that I have a low calorie day followed by a higher calorie one. I can still enjoy some good carbs every other day while eating healthy salads and protein shakes on the other ones! It's a win-win.
So that's that. I'm down a few pounds, but what else is new? I'm not holding my breath or buying a bikini just yet.
On the horse front....the person who was giving me lessons "let me go" as a student, for lack of a better term. Seriously, I think it was just a case of two different people with two distinct areas of interest and expertise (although there is no expertise coming from this camp, I can tell you!). I had a feeling that this was very timely and after thinking it over for a few hours, I realized that I was, in fact, ready to get focused on my goals and get more specialized instruction on the discipline I was trying to study. It was time to seek out a mentor who would be willing to share some Vaquero knowledge. I was excited! Now, I just had to wait for a sign!
There is a saying: "When the student is ready, the teacher will appear". In true serendipitous fashion, I only had to wait a day or two.
A friend of mine (the Farrier I mentioned in a previous post) had loaned me a book written by Bill Dorrance called "True Horsemanship Through Feel". The Dorrance brothers are very well known and respected horsemen in many circles, in particular the Vaquero/Buckaroo circles. The most well-known names coming from the Dorrance lineage are probably Ray Hunt and Buck Brannaman, but there are many others who were close to the Dorrance brothers and were lucky enough to learn from them.
One rainy day as I sat by the fire with my coffee, I grabbed the book and starting flipping through it. Not really committed to doing any "heavy reading" that day, I decided to read through the "Acknowledgements" (which is weird, I usually skip those and dive right into a book). The 2nd name listed on the acknowledgements page seemed to literally jump out at me; "Ray Berta". Ray Berta! Of course!! A year or so ago, Ray had been recommended to me as one I could possibly get some help from. I didn't have a horse trailer at the time, but I opted to ride one of his student's horses in one of his monthly clinics. It was ok. I definitely liked Ray, but when you don't have your own horse at a clinic and you're a beginner, it's a little hard to remember and then apply what you've learned to your own horse once you go home and are left "unsupervised". It was a little overwhelming.
But NOW...I have a trailer.
I contacted Ray and asked if he might be interested in helping us. I brought Maddie to Carmel Valley a few weeks ago and met with him and a small group of his students. He spent some time with my horse and seemed pretty pleased. We've got our work cut out for us, but I believe he's the one to help us along. Our first private lesson is this Friday!
I don't think I need to necessarily change the name of the blog just yet either because I am still trying to be fit and healthy. I started running again! I have a coach this time. A friend of mine ran track for Santa Clara University and has kindly offered to kick my ass. I'm so grateful! She's got me on some interval torture training program. It does seem to help to be accountable. If I don't brag about my runs for a few days, I'll invariably get a text message: "Are you running today?"
I'm also carb-cycling to try to slim down a bit. I don't like to eat a ton of carbs because of the way they make me feel, but the thought of "no carbs ever" is just depressing. With carb-cycling I don't have to count calories, it's just assumed that I have a low calorie day followed by a higher calorie one. I can still enjoy some good carbs every other day while eating healthy salads and protein shakes on the other ones! It's a win-win.
So that's that. I'm down a few pounds, but what else is new? I'm not holding my breath or buying a bikini just yet.
On the horse front....the person who was giving me lessons "let me go" as a student, for lack of a better term. Seriously, I think it was just a case of two different people with two distinct areas of interest and expertise (although there is no expertise coming from this camp, I can tell you!). I had a feeling that this was very timely and after thinking it over for a few hours, I realized that I was, in fact, ready to get focused on my goals and get more specialized instruction on the discipline I was trying to study. It was time to seek out a mentor who would be willing to share some Vaquero knowledge. I was excited! Now, I just had to wait for a sign!
There is a saying: "When the student is ready, the teacher will appear". In true serendipitous fashion, I only had to wait a day or two.
A friend of mine (the Farrier I mentioned in a previous post) had loaned me a book written by Bill Dorrance called "True Horsemanship Through Feel". The Dorrance brothers are very well known and respected horsemen in many circles, in particular the Vaquero/Buckaroo circles. The most well-known names coming from the Dorrance lineage are probably Ray Hunt and Buck Brannaman, but there are many others who were close to the Dorrance brothers and were lucky enough to learn from them.
One rainy day as I sat by the fire with my coffee, I grabbed the book and starting flipping through it. Not really committed to doing any "heavy reading" that day, I decided to read through the "Acknowledgements" (which is weird, I usually skip those and dive right into a book). The 2nd name listed on the acknowledgements page seemed to literally jump out at me; "Ray Berta". Ray Berta! Of course!! A year or so ago, Ray had been recommended to me as one I could possibly get some help from. I didn't have a horse trailer at the time, but I opted to ride one of his student's horses in one of his monthly clinics. It was ok. I definitely liked Ray, but when you don't have your own horse at a clinic and you're a beginner, it's a little hard to remember and then apply what you've learned to your own horse once you go home and are left "unsupervised". It was a little overwhelming.
But NOW...I have a trailer.
I contacted Ray and asked if he might be interested in helping us. I brought Maddie to Carmel Valley a few weeks ago and met with him and a small group of his students. He spent some time with my horse and seemed pretty pleased. We've got our work cut out for us, but I believe he's the one to help us along. Our first private lesson is this Friday!
Saturday, March 2, 2013
After the Move, Now What? And the Farrier's Apprentice (Chapter 4)
It was time to leave Rocking S Ranch. One of the gals I had met during our stay there offered to trailer my horse over to our new place a few miles away. I chose a small private ranch with just a few boarders, mostly Team Ropers, which made for a huge arena with excellent footing. The people were nice, the set up for Maddie was perfect – a box stall inside a newer MD Bar, with a run out to a covered paddock and then another gate leading out to a small pasture. The best of all worlds! We had access to the Pleasanton Ridge Regional Park, and lots and lots of peace and quiet to get to know each other better. Of course the irony of my choice doesn't escape me; a woman who knows nothing and a funny looking horse, setting out on a California/Pacific Slope Vaquero horsemanship adventure, surrounds herself with Team Ropers and Texas cowboys on awesome athletic Quarter Horses. There had to be a reason for that, perhaps. But that’s for another chapter….
I probably shouldn’t go on without mentioning the person I alluded to in my last blog post who helped set the wheels in motion for the journey we were about to embark upon. His name is Eddie and he was apprenticing to Maddie’s farrier when I met him at Rocking S. We didn’t really acknowledge each other much the first few times he was out. I thought he seemed quiet, not wanting to be bothered. He later told me he thought I was quiet. It turned out that neither one of us were all that quiet once we got to talking about horses!
One day, as I was riding Maddie around Rocking S before our move, we walked by Eddie and he said “That’s a nice hackamore.” Really? I was hopeful that he could give me a clue. I started asking questions, does it fit properly? How do I use it? What is it, exactly? Why is it used? Of course I had seen people riding horses in hackamores before, but I didn’t know much about them. I didn’t know anything about them actually, other than sometimes young horses were started in them. But I liked how it felt, how it looked; unobtrusive. The older horses I had seen in the hackamore seemed really confident, the riders seemed calm and quiet. I marveled at how a 1000+ pound animal could be ridden and “controlled” without a bit in his mouth (I learned later that this concept of “control” is a bit of an illusion anyway – bit or no bit).
In talking with Eddie, I told him I would be moving Maddie soon, and that I would like to learn more about the hackamore and in particular, the Vaquero way of training. He had been studying and applying Vaquero horsemanship for some time and was training his horse in a bosal. As luck (or fate?) would have it, we were moving right next door to him! He offered to help us get started in the hackamore. I could come over and ride with him anytime and he would show me a few things to get us started. So that’s what we did! Eddie taught me some basic things to work on like lateral flexion, moving the hindquarters, etc. I didn’t know any of this. For as many years as I had been riding, I just hopped on and went. My horse did what I asked and moved where I wanted her to move, but only because we had been together so long, we spoke the same language. I never thought about it or “learned” how to develop this language and so that was my task here.
I had also been on line trying to find out as much information as possible. I couldn’t really find the information I was looking for, mostly because I didn’t know what I was looking for. I knew I liked riding my horse in a hackamore and I wasn’t in a big hurry to move on to anything else. One day, I posted a question in a horse forum asking if I couldn’t just keep my horse in a hackamore forever. A person on the forum, Mike Zimmerman, sent me a message with a link to a Facebook group. He said “Eline, this is where you want to be. You will learn a lot!” Well, I found an entire village in this group! I have learned SO much from these people in the last 18 months. The more I learned, the stronger my conviction to continue became. There were many frustrating evenings when I would come home from the ranch, ready to throw in the towel, sometimes in tears. My husband would say “Go ask the group.” And so I did (and still do, of course). My questions are so basic, so “beginner”, I should be embarrassed, but you really can’t have any pride at all when you’re on a journey like this. That is the quickest way to become derailed.
Of course I love trail riding. My horse excels at trail riding. I’m sure our chosen path has caused some people a bit of confusion, or consternation even. Why would I take a perfectly good trail horse and try to train her to do something that may be difficult for her? For both of us, for that matter? We don't live or work on a cattle ranch. What's the point? I found out later, when I became a little more “horse-educated” that we really do have our work cut out for us. Maddie is built a little bit “upside down”. She is half Appaloosa, which is a stock horse breed, but she is also half Tennessee Walker, which is not a stock horse breed. She is overly developed in the front, under developed through her back and loin, and her hind end is almost non-existent. This is the opposite of what you would want in a working cow horse. But I felt that letting her continue to pull herself around by her front end, hollowing out her back, not developing her hind end (motor) was not going to do her any favors. If I could teach her how to carry herself a little better, she could be a healthier, happier horse for much longer. More years on the trail! (and checking fences and moving cattle on our imaginary ranch). Training a horse using the Vaquero tradition is perfect. It takes a long time. There is nothing that is going to be too hard for her to accomplish that several months or years working on it won’t fix. We can do this slowly. Allowing me the time to learn, and her the time to develop the best that she can.
With Eddie’s help, the help of my Vaquero friends, some clinics I’ve hosted (if I couldn’t get to the help, I had to find a way to bring the help to us!) as well as a little help from some unlikely sources, we have gotten started!
I could tell you what I’ve taught Maddie in our first year and half together, but to be honest it is secondary to what she has taught me. So I think that is where I will go next in the story.
I probably shouldn’t go on without mentioning the person I alluded to in my last blog post who helped set the wheels in motion for the journey we were about to embark upon. His name is Eddie and he was apprenticing to Maddie’s farrier when I met him at Rocking S. We didn’t really acknowledge each other much the first few times he was out. I thought he seemed quiet, not wanting to be bothered. He later told me he thought I was quiet. It turned out that neither one of us were all that quiet once we got to talking about horses!
One day, as I was riding Maddie around Rocking S before our move, we walked by Eddie and he said “That’s a nice hackamore.” Really? I was hopeful that he could give me a clue. I started asking questions, does it fit properly? How do I use it? What is it, exactly? Why is it used? Of course I had seen people riding horses in hackamores before, but I didn’t know much about them. I didn’t know anything about them actually, other than sometimes young horses were started in them. But I liked how it felt, how it looked; unobtrusive. The older horses I had seen in the hackamore seemed really confident, the riders seemed calm and quiet. I marveled at how a 1000+ pound animal could be ridden and “controlled” without a bit in his mouth (I learned later that this concept of “control” is a bit of an illusion anyway – bit or no bit).
In talking with Eddie, I told him I would be moving Maddie soon, and that I would like to learn more about the hackamore and in particular, the Vaquero way of training. He had been studying and applying Vaquero horsemanship for some time and was training his horse in a bosal. As luck (or fate?) would have it, we were moving right next door to him! He offered to help us get started in the hackamore. I could come over and ride with him anytime and he would show me a few things to get us started. So that’s what we did! Eddie taught me some basic things to work on like lateral flexion, moving the hindquarters, etc. I didn’t know any of this. For as many years as I had been riding, I just hopped on and went. My horse did what I asked and moved where I wanted her to move, but only because we had been together so long, we spoke the same language. I never thought about it or “learned” how to develop this language and so that was my task here.
I had also been on line trying to find out as much information as possible. I couldn’t really find the information I was looking for, mostly because I didn’t know what I was looking for. I knew I liked riding my horse in a hackamore and I wasn’t in a big hurry to move on to anything else. One day, I posted a question in a horse forum asking if I couldn’t just keep my horse in a hackamore forever. A person on the forum, Mike Zimmerman, sent me a message with a link to a Facebook group. He said “Eline, this is where you want to be. You will learn a lot!” Well, I found an entire village in this group! I have learned SO much from these people in the last 18 months. The more I learned, the stronger my conviction to continue became. There were many frustrating evenings when I would come home from the ranch, ready to throw in the towel, sometimes in tears. My husband would say “Go ask the group.” And so I did (and still do, of course). My questions are so basic, so “beginner”, I should be embarrassed, but you really can’t have any pride at all when you’re on a journey like this. That is the quickest way to become derailed.
Of course I love trail riding. My horse excels at trail riding. I’m sure our chosen path has caused some people a bit of confusion, or consternation even. Why would I take a perfectly good trail horse and try to train her to do something that may be difficult for her? For both of us, for that matter? We don't live or work on a cattle ranch. What's the point? I found out later, when I became a little more “horse-educated” that we really do have our work cut out for us. Maddie is built a little bit “upside down”. She is half Appaloosa, which is a stock horse breed, but she is also half Tennessee Walker, which is not a stock horse breed. She is overly developed in the front, under developed through her back and loin, and her hind end is almost non-existent. This is the opposite of what you would want in a working cow horse. But I felt that letting her continue to pull herself around by her front end, hollowing out her back, not developing her hind end (motor) was not going to do her any favors. If I could teach her how to carry herself a little better, she could be a healthier, happier horse for much longer. More years on the trail! (and checking fences and moving cattle on our imaginary ranch). Training a horse using the Vaquero tradition is perfect. It takes a long time. There is nothing that is going to be too hard for her to accomplish that several months or years working on it won’t fix. We can do this slowly. Allowing me the time to learn, and her the time to develop the best that she can.
With Eddie’s help, the help of my Vaquero friends, some clinics I’ve hosted (if I couldn’t get to the help, I had to find a way to bring the help to us!) as well as a little help from some unlikely sources, we have gotten started!
I could tell you what I’ve taught Maddie in our first year and half together, but to be honest it is secondary to what she has taught me. So I think that is where I will go next in the story.
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
How He Came To Let Her Go (Chapter 3)
My horse is like a Siren; those dangerous creatures from Greek Mythology who lure nearby sailors with their enchanting music and ethereal beauty, to shipwreck on the rocky coasts of their islands. Maybe that’s a bit dramatic, but I was definitely smitten with this horse.
On that first day, as I impatiently waited for Cris to come up the drive to meet me, I wondered what it was I liked so much about this horse. She seemed to have an “uncertain confidence” that I saw as potential. It almost felt like she spoke to my soul on that first day, whispering to me a promise. I was destined to take her on a journey and she had been waiting for me. She was ready to go. Her insistence was almost tangible. It was just a fleeting, but powerful moment and it struck me to the core.
Cris eventually pulled into the ranch, got out of his truck and said “I hear you like my horse! I might consider a lease. Do you want to go for a ride?"
Of course I was thrilled at the prospect. Cris let me bring her out, groom her, saddle her up, all under his watchful eye, of course. I was in heaven. It had been a few years. Then we were off! She really moved out, happy and confident, like we were out on some grand adventure! It felt like it had only been a day since I'd been in the saddle, not 7 years. I remember Cris giving me warnings about certain little behaviors to watch for which never quite materialized. Periodically I would hear him say “Huh…!” behind us. She was really putting her best hoof forward!
Needless to say, I was sold on this mare. I also really liked Cris. How was this going to work out? I decided the best way was to be completely honest. I wanted this horse. And while she wasn’t exactly for sale, I was hoping that maybe Cris would recognize something that might convince him to be open to the idea of letting her go. He was very polite, considering that I had appeared out of nowhere, a stranger, informing him that I wanted his horse. He agreed to think it over for a day or so, and we would talk. I let him know that I also had another horse to look at the next day that I had already scheduled an appointment to see. It’s funny now to think of it, but we were both just delaying the inevitable. Maybe to give ourselves some time to wrap our minds around the sudden and unexpected events of the day.
I did try to go to look at that other horse the next day. My car blew up on the way and as I waited on the side of the road for a tow, I sent Cris a text message “Couldn’t see the other horse, car blew up. I just want Maddie. When do you want to meet to talk about it?”
He agreed to a 60 day lease. We would see how it went. He gave me a purchase price in the event it did work out. I felt like I needed to let him know that if I ended up buying her, we would be leaving the ranch. I had no truck, no trailer, and I knew I wanted a big arena to work in, to re-teach myself how to ride, to get in sync with my new horse, and I also wanted access to miles and miles of trails. I also knew that we were going to have to cut familiar ties in order to embark on our own journey, although I had no idea what that journey would look like at the time.
Next came the most excruciating 60 days of my life! I was so afraid that Cris wouldn’t approve of me, that I wouldn’t be good enough for Maddie, that we wouldn’t be the right match after all, that this feeling I had of knowing could somehow be wrong. My husband spent the next two months reassuring me that from an outsider’s perspective, this horse and I were meant to be together and he assured me that Cris would see it too.
For all of his encouragement, all of my “knowing”, I was still not going to believe it was true until I heard it from Cris.
I could try to tell you how Maddie and I spent that first 60 days, but it’s kind of a blur. I was enjoying it immensely, but also worried. I didn’t want to pester Cris. I was afraid he would change his mind and I just didn’t want to hear the wrong thing. Anyone who knows me would be shocked at how well I kept my mouth firmly shut! But Cris seemed to sense that we “fit” together. He and the others at the ranch would sometimes comment that Maddie seemed really happy with me. I remember being a little doubtful. She was a bit more standoff-ish than I thought she would be, given our initial "sparks-flying" meeting. But this was her way, and I would come to understand and appreciate it better in the coming months.
Finally, a couple of weeks before our 60 days was up, Cris walked past me as I was cleaning out Maddie's pasture. He shook his head and said; “Bitch. You stole my horse!” (with a smile, of course). That’s when I knew there was a good chance she would actually be mine!
While the 60 days may have been stressful and uncertain, there are a few things I clearly remember and enjoyed about my stay at Rocking S Ranch.
One of my assigned chores during our trial period was to clean Maddie’s pasture every day. Cris told me that I could pay a little bit extra to have someone clean for me, but in his wisdom (which I am still very grateful for today), he encouraged me to do it myself. This allowed Maddie and I to form our initial bond. For two months, she would look at me with her silly, curious expression, then look away, completely bored and disinterested. I could count on her casually walking over to make a quick surveillance for hidden treats, then just as casually walking off with a swish of her tail to go stand and stare at something more interesting. It wasn’t much, and to be honest I wondered why she wasn’t more interested in me, but it was the beginning of something.
Cris gave me one warning: “Don’t break my pitchfork!” Within the first week, being a bit muck-rusty and also trying to prove myself as the very best care giver possible, I cleaned so fervently that I broke his pitchfork. I felt terrible! When I left the ranch two months later, Cris presented me with the replacement pitchfork I bought for him. He had written “MADDIE” on it with a Sharpie. I still have it today and I’m a little embarrassed to admit that it holds quite a bit of sentimental value. It represents honor and gratitude. We both honored our word. We honor our horses. Caring for them is an honor and an exercise in gratitude. They give us so much. And even though the board at our new ranch included cleaning, I asked that I be the only one to clean my horse’s stall and pasture every day. Miraculously, I’m doing it with that same damned pitchfork.
Another thing about our stay at Rocking S is the friends that I hadn’t expected to make. The people I met seemed to be in my corner from the beginning, offering encouragement, friendship and much needed advice. I am very grateful for my time spent with these people and very happy that they are still my friends.
There was another person I met there, a farrier’s apprentice, who with a simple comment one day, set the course of our future. More on that later….
On that first day, as I impatiently waited for Cris to come up the drive to meet me, I wondered what it was I liked so much about this horse. She seemed to have an “uncertain confidence” that I saw as potential. It almost felt like she spoke to my soul on that first day, whispering to me a promise. I was destined to take her on a journey and she had been waiting for me. She was ready to go. Her insistence was almost tangible. It was just a fleeting, but powerful moment and it struck me to the core.
Cris eventually pulled into the ranch, got out of his truck and said “I hear you like my horse! I might consider a lease. Do you want to go for a ride?"
Of course I was thrilled at the prospect. Cris let me bring her out, groom her, saddle her up, all under his watchful eye, of course. I was in heaven. It had been a few years. Then we were off! She really moved out, happy and confident, like we were out on some grand adventure! It felt like it had only been a day since I'd been in the saddle, not 7 years. I remember Cris giving me warnings about certain little behaviors to watch for which never quite materialized. Periodically I would hear him say “Huh…!” behind us. She was really putting her best hoof forward!
Needless to say, I was sold on this mare. I also really liked Cris. How was this going to work out? I decided the best way was to be completely honest. I wanted this horse. And while she wasn’t exactly for sale, I was hoping that maybe Cris would recognize something that might convince him to be open to the idea of letting her go. He was very polite, considering that I had appeared out of nowhere, a stranger, informing him that I wanted his horse. He agreed to think it over for a day or so, and we would talk. I let him know that I also had another horse to look at the next day that I had already scheduled an appointment to see. It’s funny now to think of it, but we were both just delaying the inevitable. Maybe to give ourselves some time to wrap our minds around the sudden and unexpected events of the day.
I did try to go to look at that other horse the next day. My car blew up on the way and as I waited on the side of the road for a tow, I sent Cris a text message “Couldn’t see the other horse, car blew up. I just want Maddie. When do you want to meet to talk about it?”
He agreed to a 60 day lease. We would see how it went. He gave me a purchase price in the event it did work out. I felt like I needed to let him know that if I ended up buying her, we would be leaving the ranch. I had no truck, no trailer, and I knew I wanted a big arena to work in, to re-teach myself how to ride, to get in sync with my new horse, and I also wanted access to miles and miles of trails. I also knew that we were going to have to cut familiar ties in order to embark on our own journey, although I had no idea what that journey would look like at the time.
Next came the most excruciating 60 days of my life! I was so afraid that Cris wouldn’t approve of me, that I wouldn’t be good enough for Maddie, that we wouldn’t be the right match after all, that this feeling I had of knowing could somehow be wrong. My husband spent the next two months reassuring me that from an outsider’s perspective, this horse and I were meant to be together and he assured me that Cris would see it too.
For all of his encouragement, all of my “knowing”, I was still not going to believe it was true until I heard it from Cris.
I could try to tell you how Maddie and I spent that first 60 days, but it’s kind of a blur. I was enjoying it immensely, but also worried. I didn’t want to pester Cris. I was afraid he would change his mind and I just didn’t want to hear the wrong thing. Anyone who knows me would be shocked at how well I kept my mouth firmly shut! But Cris seemed to sense that we “fit” together. He and the others at the ranch would sometimes comment that Maddie seemed really happy with me. I remember being a little doubtful. She was a bit more standoff-ish than I thought she would be, given our initial "sparks-flying" meeting. But this was her way, and I would come to understand and appreciate it better in the coming months.
Finally, a couple of weeks before our 60 days was up, Cris walked past me as I was cleaning out Maddie's pasture. He shook his head and said; “Bitch. You stole my horse!” (with a smile, of course). That’s when I knew there was a good chance she would actually be mine!
While the 60 days may have been stressful and uncertain, there are a few things I clearly remember and enjoyed about my stay at Rocking S Ranch.
One of my assigned chores during our trial period was to clean Maddie’s pasture every day. Cris told me that I could pay a little bit extra to have someone clean for me, but in his wisdom (which I am still very grateful for today), he encouraged me to do it myself. This allowed Maddie and I to form our initial bond. For two months, she would look at me with her silly, curious expression, then look away, completely bored and disinterested. I could count on her casually walking over to make a quick surveillance for hidden treats, then just as casually walking off with a swish of her tail to go stand and stare at something more interesting. It wasn’t much, and to be honest I wondered why she wasn’t more interested in me, but it was the beginning of something.
Cris gave me one warning: “Don’t break my pitchfork!” Within the first week, being a bit muck-rusty and also trying to prove myself as the very best care giver possible, I cleaned so fervently that I broke his pitchfork. I felt terrible! When I left the ranch two months later, Cris presented me with the replacement pitchfork I bought for him. He had written “MADDIE” on it with a Sharpie. I still have it today and I’m a little embarrassed to admit that it holds quite a bit of sentimental value. It represents honor and gratitude. We both honored our word. We honor our horses. Caring for them is an honor and an exercise in gratitude. They give us so much. And even though the board at our new ranch included cleaning, I asked that I be the only one to clean my horse’s stall and pasture every day. Miraculously, I’m doing it with that same damned pitchfork.
Another thing about our stay at Rocking S is the friends that I hadn’t expected to make. The people I met seemed to be in my corner from the beginning, offering encouragement, friendship and much needed advice. I am very grateful for my time spent with these people and very happy that they are still my friends.
There was another person I met there, a farrier’s apprentice, who with a simple comment one day, set the course of our future. More on that later….
Friday, February 22, 2013
And Then There Was This Horse (Chapter 2)
I know, I know...two blog entries in one day. But you don't understand! I've decided to "tell our story". And I'm way behind...a year and 5 months behind. We've got to catch up! Read on.....:
After those first wild rides, and a couple of years “figuring things out” with my first pony (Ponies can be pure evil by the way!), I got my first “real” horse. She was a stout, confident, Quarter Horse/Morgan cross with a very kind disposition and plenty of motor. We had 25 years together. I could go on and on about this mare. How versatile she was – barrels, trail, western pleasure. Her stamina – I had to get up at 4am and ride across town 5 miles to the horse shows, show all day, then ride back home. And mostly, how forever grateful I am to her. My childhood was a little “tumultuous”, I guess you could say, and I felt like this horse saved me. We spent so many great years together. She was a mother/protector horse, and an adventure partner. A willing accomplice to any scheme I could cook up. Mandy….She was my pride and joy.
She was put down at the ripe old age of 36. It wasn’t an easy passing. I felt that after all that she had given me throughout her life, I let her down in the end. She deserved a peaceful, sun-drenched, never-ending nap in a meadow. But it was a terrible experience that still makes me sad to think about.
On that day, I walked away from the barn one last time, with a broken heart, leaving all of my tack; my saddle, my bridle, my brushes, everything, never to return. Somebody else could have it all, I didn’t care.
I drove home feeling numb. Then I quickly moved on. I was a very busy, newly divorced mother of a toddler. Things in my life were hectic. It was fun, but a lot of responsibility to own a horse. Besides, there would never be another Mandy. So that was that. I was done with it.
Then one day several years later, I reconnected with my old childhood friend, Linda (of our first wild horseback ride). She had gotten back into horses after a few years without. If you recall, we got our first ponies together. Then later, we got our first “big horses” at around the same time. Her horse Duffy lived to be quite an old man. A few years after Duffy passed, she picked up an Arabian mare and she had horse fever again! She suggested that I just “think about it”. I spent some time out at her ranch with her horses. And that was it. I knew I Must. Have. A. Horse.
Boy, was my husband surprised. For as influential as horses had been in my life, I just never talked about them. I rarely spoke of Mandy. These were private memories I kept quietly and safely tucked away. Could you imagine his reaction when I casually mentioned to him one evening “Oh…my gosh. I have something to tell you! You don’t know this, but horses are my LIFE. And I must get one now. It’s time.” (say what!?!?)
Being the good supportive husband that he is, he was behind me. A little nervously….but behind me.
Of course I wanted a horse like my old mare. A nice thick Quarter Horse type. Steadfast, solid minded and good on trails, but ranchy and fun. Capable.
I spent a few weekends looking at a bunch of Quarter Horses, with no luck. The first one was a beautiful dun QH mare. She charged me when I turned her out in the arena. I mean, really charged like she was going to kill me. I’m not really one for taking on a horse with issues. I passed. I’m sure she might make a great horse for someone, she was probably just testing me, but she failed my test. I looked at several others, but none of them really stood out. I was sure of two things; my horse was out there, and I would know her when I saw her. But I was starting to get a little frustrated. Where was my horse?
Then one day, out of the blue, I decided to take a drive up to a little horse boarding facility not far from my home. I had called a few times but no one answered and I didn’t get a call back. It could have been the vague nature of my message: “Hi. Uh.. I’m looking for a horse?” So I thought I would just go and ask if they had any horses for sale, or knew of any.What did I have to lose, really?
I pulled up the driveway and got out of my car. It’s not good etiquette to show up at a private boarding facility without an appointment so I needed to find the person to apologize to, and then ask about horses! Shelly was very nice and after explaining my purpose for wandering on to her property, she pointed me down the hill to the “end corner pasture on the right”. “There’s a young mare down there. She’s not for sale but I know the owner was considering maybe leasing her out a while back. Why don’t you take a look and I can call him if you’re interested.”
So I made my way down the hill. As I got close to the last pasture I thought, “Well, maybe I didn’t hear right.” I stopped and looked around. Could there be any other “end corner pasture on the right” that the woman may have been referring to? I was thinking that there really wasn’t any point in going any further. In front of me was one of the gangliest, funniest looking, upside down built horses I had ever seen. She didn’t know if she was spotted or painted. Half her mane stuck up on end and the other half lay flat. Her conformation wasn’t what I was used to, expecting, or hoping for. I didn’t see a hind end to speak of. She definitely was not a “Quarter Horse” type.
I was about to turn to go when she walked up to the gate to see who I was. What did I want? Did I have a treat? A scratch, perhaps? Did I come for her? She looked so darned hopeful and insistent that I thought it would be mean not to go and say hello. So I walked down to the gate and gave her a little pat on the neck. She wasn’t so bad really. Kind of pretty. Definitely unique. I was a little stumped, quite possibly captivated, and I couldn’t turn away. I decided to lift up her fly mask to get a look at her eyes. You can tell a lot about a horse by their eyes. I remember that feeling. My breath catching in my throat.
Well, hello my beautiful girl. You are the one. Yes. In fact, I did come for you.
I practically ran up the hill to Shelly and breathlessly (damn, I came to hate that hill) panted…”Call him. Please. CALL HIM!”
And so she did.
After those first wild rides, and a couple of years “figuring things out” with my first pony (Ponies can be pure evil by the way!), I got my first “real” horse. She was a stout, confident, Quarter Horse/Morgan cross with a very kind disposition and plenty of motor. We had 25 years together. I could go on and on about this mare. How versatile she was – barrels, trail, western pleasure. Her stamina – I had to get up at 4am and ride across town 5 miles to the horse shows, show all day, then ride back home. And mostly, how forever grateful I am to her. My childhood was a little “tumultuous”, I guess you could say, and I felt like this horse saved me. We spent so many great years together. She was a mother/protector horse, and an adventure partner. A willing accomplice to any scheme I could cook up. Mandy….She was my pride and joy.
She was put down at the ripe old age of 36. It wasn’t an easy passing. I felt that after all that she had given me throughout her life, I let her down in the end. She deserved a peaceful, sun-drenched, never-ending nap in a meadow. But it was a terrible experience that still makes me sad to think about.
On that day, I walked away from the barn one last time, with a broken heart, leaving all of my tack; my saddle, my bridle, my brushes, everything, never to return. Somebody else could have it all, I didn’t care.
I drove home feeling numb. Then I quickly moved on. I was a very busy, newly divorced mother of a toddler. Things in my life were hectic. It was fun, but a lot of responsibility to own a horse. Besides, there would never be another Mandy. So that was that. I was done with it.
Then one day several years later, I reconnected with my old childhood friend, Linda (of our first wild horseback ride). She had gotten back into horses after a few years without. If you recall, we got our first ponies together. Then later, we got our first “big horses” at around the same time. Her horse Duffy lived to be quite an old man. A few years after Duffy passed, she picked up an Arabian mare and she had horse fever again! She suggested that I just “think about it”. I spent some time out at her ranch with her horses. And that was it. I knew I Must. Have. A. Horse.
Boy, was my husband surprised. For as influential as horses had been in my life, I just never talked about them. I rarely spoke of Mandy. These were private memories I kept quietly and safely tucked away. Could you imagine his reaction when I casually mentioned to him one evening “Oh…my gosh. I have something to tell you! You don’t know this, but horses are my LIFE. And I must get one now. It’s time.” (say what!?!?)
Being the good supportive husband that he is, he was behind me. A little nervously….but behind me.
Of course I wanted a horse like my old mare. A nice thick Quarter Horse type. Steadfast, solid minded and good on trails, but ranchy and fun. Capable.
I spent a few weekends looking at a bunch of Quarter Horses, with no luck. The first one was a beautiful dun QH mare. She charged me when I turned her out in the arena. I mean, really charged like she was going to kill me. I’m not really one for taking on a horse with issues. I passed. I’m sure she might make a great horse for someone, she was probably just testing me, but she failed my test. I looked at several others, but none of them really stood out. I was sure of two things; my horse was out there, and I would know her when I saw her. But I was starting to get a little frustrated. Where was my horse?
Then one day, out of the blue, I decided to take a drive up to a little horse boarding facility not far from my home. I had called a few times but no one answered and I didn’t get a call back. It could have been the vague nature of my message: “Hi. Uh.. I’m looking for a horse?” So I thought I would just go and ask if they had any horses for sale, or knew of any.What did I have to lose, really?
I pulled up the driveway and got out of my car. It’s not good etiquette to show up at a private boarding facility without an appointment so I needed to find the person to apologize to, and then ask about horses! Shelly was very nice and after explaining my purpose for wandering on to her property, she pointed me down the hill to the “end corner pasture on the right”. “There’s a young mare down there. She’s not for sale but I know the owner was considering maybe leasing her out a while back. Why don’t you take a look and I can call him if you’re interested.”
So I made my way down the hill. As I got close to the last pasture I thought, “Well, maybe I didn’t hear right.” I stopped and looked around. Could there be any other “end corner pasture on the right” that the woman may have been referring to? I was thinking that there really wasn’t any point in going any further. In front of me was one of the gangliest, funniest looking, upside down built horses I had ever seen. She didn’t know if she was spotted or painted. Half her mane stuck up on end and the other half lay flat. Her conformation wasn’t what I was used to, expecting, or hoping for. I didn’t see a hind end to speak of. She definitely was not a “Quarter Horse” type.
I was about to turn to go when she walked up to the gate to see who I was. What did I want? Did I have a treat? A scratch, perhaps? Did I come for her? She looked so darned hopeful and insistent that I thought it would be mean not to go and say hello. So I walked down to the gate and gave her a little pat on the neck. She wasn’t so bad really. Kind of pretty. Definitely unique. I was a little stumped, quite possibly captivated, and I couldn’t turn away. I decided to lift up her fly mask to get a look at her eyes. You can tell a lot about a horse by their eyes. I remember that feeling. My breath catching in my throat.
Well, hello my beautiful girl. You are the one. Yes. In fact, I did come for you.
I practically ran up the hill to Shelly and breathlessly (damn, I came to hate that hill) panted…”Call him. Please. CALL HIM!”
And so she did.
In the Beginning....There Was a Horse. (Chapter 1)
I'm changing the name of my blog. I was trying to come up with a name that would incorporate all of my favorite things, but "Smiling Yoga Cowgirl I Love Food And Martinis So MUCH Why Can't I Lose Weight?!" Doesn't have the right ring to it. It doesn't exactly roll off the tongue. I also decided to change the focus from weight loss/fitness (ha ha ha to that anyway!) and food (I will probably still talk about food, I can't help it!) to my horsemanship journey.
What is my horsemanship journey? Well, to be quite specific: The Making of A Californio Vaquero Style Bridle Horse.
What's that, you ask?
Here is a fairly succinct, easy to read article on the origins of the California Vaquero Bridle Horse. Keep in mind that today's competitive "reined cow horse" has little in common with the historic Vaquero trained bridle horse from a time long forgotten by many but the most passionate of cowboy historians.
A horse trained in the Vaquero tradition of old probably wouldn't stand a chance competing against today's reined cow horse in the modern show pen. But that isn't the point of it anyway. (see the HISTORY section in the link below)
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Reined_cow_horse
Now why would someone like me - a middle aged, suburban Volvo driving wife and mom, with no horse training experience other than banging around on my old horse as a kid, end up choosing this particular and decidedly "old-timey" path? Especially with a horse like mine, who is clearly not a ranch-type horse. She's a great trail horse, don't get me wrong. But she's the wrong horse for the job, as they say. Well, that is a story for another day, but I'll just leave you with this for now: I didn't choose this path, and I certainly didn't choose the horse who is walking it with me. They both chose me. More on that in a future chapter!
Honestly, I don't really know how far we'll get, or if we're any good at any of it at all! There have been many days I've almost given up. I have seen the futility in it, the insanity of it. We have so many obstacles. So. Many. Obstacles. But as many on this journey well know - it quickly morphs from a flirtatious little curiosity to a GRAND PASSION bordering on obsession. And we all know that the very best journeys are the ones we stumble upon accidentally. And after taking a few tentative steps we decide, against our own better judgement and the advice of the wise, to lose ourselves on the path. We know instinctively that we will find our way, eventually. And if we are lost...what a grand world to lose oneself in!
Besides, it's not really so much about where we end up, but what we are experiencing along the way. And if the last year is any indication....we're in for a long, fun, exhilarating, crazy, frustrating, tears on my pillow one night, heart bubbling with joy the next day, kind of ride!
And so - Away we go!
First, we should probably start in the beginning with a little of my own horse history:
When I was 6, my family was in Half Moon Bay one sunny fall day and I begged and begged to go on a pony ride. My thumb got caught up against the saddle horn with the rein and I screamed until the poor pony attendant could untangle me and help me off. It was horrible. Terrifying and embarrassing. But for whatever reason - that horrific ride set the wheels in motion and I just knew that I. Must. Have. A. Pony. And so the begging, wheedling and whining commenced.
Fast forward a couple years. My friend Linda and I went to grade school together and there was a pasture with two horses behind the schoolyard. We were probably 8 years old. When we weren't galloping around the playground pretending we were wild horses, we were stealing apples from the auditorium garbage cans after lunch and feeding them to the horses.
One day after school, we brought a few boxes of sugar cubes back to the pasture and started feeding them to the horses....the entire box! One for each horse. Smart, right?
We must have been eating them too because we got hopped up enough to think it was a good idea to dare each other to climb the fence and hop on. We had both read The Black Stallion series, and probably ever other horse book we could find, so we knew exactly what we were doing and how it was going to go, of course.
One horse took off at a gallop and the other one followed. They ran across the field, down a hill, jumped across a creek, then into the woods, zig zagging all over the place (and going under every low branch they could find!). We hung on for dear life, sometimes with our arms flung around their necks, pressing ourselves as flat to their body as we could to avoid the lowest branches, hootin' and hollerin', terrified and thrilled at the same time! I remember feeling like I was one with this powerful, graceful (and very large) animal. There was nothing else like it, I was sure.
They finally galloped out of the woods and into a clearing, then hung a sharp right into the barn. We slid off their backs, shaking and laughing like crazy, and realized we were trapped in the barn because the house was right across the driveway and we didn't want to get caught! We weren't sure, but thought maybe you could get shot for riding someone's horse without permission.
Eventually we managed to sneak out of the barn and ran back down through the woods - VERY impressed with our horseback riding skills.
Of course we were hooked after that and spent many afternoons testing our bareback, bridle-less riding skills on two great beasts who looked for all kinds of ways to get us off their backs without actually harming us. That was how we learned to ride. We were very lucky to have survived it, yes we know.
We both got our first ponies within a year or two of that first wild ride.
What is my horsemanship journey? Well, to be quite specific: The Making of A Californio Vaquero Style Bridle Horse.
What's that, you ask?
Here is a fairly succinct, easy to read article on the origins of the California Vaquero Bridle Horse. Keep in mind that today's competitive "reined cow horse" has little in common with the historic Vaquero trained bridle horse from a time long forgotten by many but the most passionate of cowboy historians.
A horse trained in the Vaquero tradition of old probably wouldn't stand a chance competing against today's reined cow horse in the modern show pen. But that isn't the point of it anyway. (see the HISTORY section in the link below)
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Reined_cow_horse
Now why would someone like me - a middle aged, suburban Volvo driving wife and mom, with no horse training experience other than banging around on my old horse as a kid, end up choosing this particular and decidedly "old-timey" path? Especially with a horse like mine, who is clearly not a ranch-type horse. She's a great trail horse, don't get me wrong. But she's the wrong horse for the job, as they say. Well, that is a story for another day, but I'll just leave you with this for now: I didn't choose this path, and I certainly didn't choose the horse who is walking it with me. They both chose me. More on that in a future chapter!
Honestly, I don't really know how far we'll get, or if we're any good at any of it at all! There have been many days I've almost given up. I have seen the futility in it, the insanity of it. We have so many obstacles. So. Many. Obstacles. But as many on this journey well know - it quickly morphs from a flirtatious little curiosity to a GRAND PASSION bordering on obsession. And we all know that the very best journeys are the ones we stumble upon accidentally. And after taking a few tentative steps we decide, against our own better judgement and the advice of the wise, to lose ourselves on the path. We know instinctively that we will find our way, eventually. And if we are lost...what a grand world to lose oneself in!
Besides, it's not really so much about where we end up, but what we are experiencing along the way. And if the last year is any indication....we're in for a long, fun, exhilarating, crazy, frustrating, tears on my pillow one night, heart bubbling with joy the next day, kind of ride!
And so - Away we go!
First, we should probably start in the beginning with a little of my own horse history:
When I was 6, my family was in Half Moon Bay one sunny fall day and I begged and begged to go on a pony ride. My thumb got caught up against the saddle horn with the rein and I screamed until the poor pony attendant could untangle me and help me off. It was horrible. Terrifying and embarrassing. But for whatever reason - that horrific ride set the wheels in motion and I just knew that I. Must. Have. A. Pony. And so the begging, wheedling and whining commenced.
Fast forward a couple years. My friend Linda and I went to grade school together and there was a pasture with two horses behind the schoolyard. We were probably 8 years old. When we weren't galloping around the playground pretending we were wild horses, we were stealing apples from the auditorium garbage cans after lunch and feeding them to the horses.
One day after school, we brought a few boxes of sugar cubes back to the pasture and started feeding them to the horses....the entire box! One for each horse. Smart, right?
We must have been eating them too because we got hopped up enough to think it was a good idea to dare each other to climb the fence and hop on. We had both read The Black Stallion series, and probably ever other horse book we could find, so we knew exactly what we were doing and how it was going to go, of course.
One horse took off at a gallop and the other one followed. They ran across the field, down a hill, jumped across a creek, then into the woods, zig zagging all over the place (and going under every low branch they could find!). We hung on for dear life, sometimes with our arms flung around their necks, pressing ourselves as flat to their body as we could to avoid the lowest branches, hootin' and hollerin', terrified and thrilled at the same time! I remember feeling like I was one with this powerful, graceful (and very large) animal. There was nothing else like it, I was sure.
They finally galloped out of the woods and into a clearing, then hung a sharp right into the barn. We slid off their backs, shaking and laughing like crazy, and realized we were trapped in the barn because the house was right across the driveway and we didn't want to get caught! We weren't sure, but thought maybe you could get shot for riding someone's horse without permission.
Eventually we managed to sneak out of the barn and ran back down through the woods - VERY impressed with our horseback riding skills.
Of course we were hooked after that and spent many afternoons testing our bareback, bridle-less riding skills on two great beasts who looked for all kinds of ways to get us off their backs without actually harming us. That was how we learned to ride. We were very lucky to have survived it, yes we know.
We both got our first ponies within a year or two of that first wild ride.
Tuesday, January 22, 2013
No Harm, No Fowl
Two weeks! I've stuck with something for two weeks! That's gotta be a record.
I made the world's worst bacon wrapped chicken thighs (I know, right? How can something with bacon be bad?) but redeemed myself on game day with chicken wings.
We had company for the weekend and while I did make them suffer through a grainless/dairyless supper Saturday night, I decided I needed to at least offer bread - the staff of life - so I added a loaf of french bread to the menu. I also bought some cheese and crackers to serve. Of course it would be rude not to eat with our guests, so the weekend was sort of a mix of Paleo and crackers. I only gained one pound and I know that will come off this week, and then some.
Last night I made Spaghetti Squash Bolognese. It turned out really well!
I got a really nice ride in on Monday, just me and my horse, and now all is right with the world.
I made the world's worst bacon wrapped chicken thighs (I know, right? How can something with bacon be bad?) but redeemed myself on game day with chicken wings.
We had company for the weekend and while I did make them suffer through a grainless/dairyless supper Saturday night, I decided I needed to at least offer bread - the staff of life - so I added a loaf of french bread to the menu. I also bought some cheese and crackers to serve. Of course it would be rude not to eat with our guests, so the weekend was sort of a mix of Paleo and crackers. I only gained one pound and I know that will come off this week, and then some.
Last night I made Spaghetti Squash Bolognese. It turned out really well!
I got a really nice ride in on Monday, just me and my horse, and now all is right with the world.
Thursday, January 17, 2013
The Science of Obsession
I'll make this quick - gotta get to work!
10 days no grains/dairy (except my little indiscretions that I mentioned in a previous post). I'm down 6 pounds and feel fantastic!
I'm getting a little bit concerned though, because when I visualize myself eating a piece of bread, I see myself spontaneously combust. Like....literally. Explode. Hmmmmm....I'm beginning to think that I may be becoming obsessed with the no grain/dairy thing.
I did some "research" and read that up to 80% of the human population have some sort of gluten and/or dairy intolerance. It might actually be 60% or 40%? Who knows, who cares? I didn't get as far as the studies and such, and maybe there weren't any. I tend to skim these types of articles looking for important University names and Doctor titles to validate what I already believe to be true, and then promptly forget the sources, facts and figures as soon as my browser closes. But in the larger scheme of things, does it really matter? I'm relying pretty much solely on my "own experiences" and have decided that 100% of ME thinks that this is awesome. So that is the basis of my scientific "research", don't believe anything I say, or say I read for that matter...try it for yourself if you'd like to though!
So yes, I may have become slightly obsessed, because I'm a true believer!
I made THE best pesto shrimp & squash fettuccine, or as I like to call it "faux-ttucine".
Here's the recipe: (from Practical Paleo by Diane Sanfillippo) WARNING: This dish will make your husband/wife/partner/dog fall in love with you all over again. Use caution when clearing the dishes!
Ingredients:
2 dozen large shrimp
4 zucchini or yellow squash (I couldn't decide so I used two of each)
sea salt and black pepper to taste
Pesto: (make this first)
1/2 Cup macadamia nuts
1 bunch cilantro
1 clove garlic
1/2 Cup extra-virgin olive oil
sea salt and black pepper to taste
(combine all of the Pesto ingredients in a food processor & blend, ok? You're done!)
Use a vegetable peeler (or julienne peeler if you've got one!) to peel the squash down until you've reached the seeds. Steam the "pasta" for 3-5 minutes, set aside.
Steam the shrimp for 3-5 minutes - toss it all together and enjoy the pure awesomeness!
Enjoy!
10 days no grains/dairy (except my little indiscretions that I mentioned in a previous post). I'm down 6 pounds and feel fantastic!
I'm getting a little bit concerned though, because when I visualize myself eating a piece of bread, I see myself spontaneously combust. Like....literally. Explode. Hmmmmm....I'm beginning to think that I may be becoming obsessed with the no grain/dairy thing.
I did some "research" and read that up to 80% of the human population have some sort of gluten and/or dairy intolerance. It might actually be 60% or 40%? Who knows, who cares? I didn't get as far as the studies and such, and maybe there weren't any. I tend to skim these types of articles looking for important University names and Doctor titles to validate what I already believe to be true, and then promptly forget the sources, facts and figures as soon as my browser closes. But in the larger scheme of things, does it really matter? I'm relying pretty much solely on my "own experiences" and have decided that 100% of ME thinks that this is awesome. So that is the basis of my scientific "research", don't believe anything I say, or say I read for that matter...try it for yourself if you'd like to though!
So yes, I may have become slightly obsessed, because I'm a true believer!
I made THE best pesto shrimp & squash fettuccine, or as I like to call it "faux-ttucine".
Here's the recipe: (from Practical Paleo by Diane Sanfillippo) WARNING: This dish will make your husband/wife/partner/dog fall in love with you all over again. Use caution when clearing the dishes!
Ingredients:
2 dozen large shrimp
4 zucchini or yellow squash (I couldn't decide so I used two of each)
sea salt and black pepper to taste
Pesto: (make this first)
1/2 Cup macadamia nuts
1 bunch cilantro
1 clove garlic
1/2 Cup extra-virgin olive oil
sea salt and black pepper to taste
(combine all of the Pesto ingredients in a food processor & blend, ok? You're done!)
Use a vegetable peeler (or julienne peeler if you've got one!) to peel the squash down until you've reached the seeds. Steam the "pasta" for 3-5 minutes, set aside.
Steam the shrimp for 3-5 minutes - toss it all together and enjoy the pure awesomeness!
Enjoy!
Monday, January 14, 2013
RIP Sparky, and My Confessional
I've gone a whole week with no grains or dairy except for:
Three Wheat Thins at 2am Sunday morning (remember I mentioned a little soiree I was planning?). We were about ready to go to bed at a reasonable hour but then I discovered that our beloved bearded dragon, Sparky, had passed. I was crushed. So we had to spend the next several hours toasting her amazingly uneventful life, crying and hugging, and more toasting. Well... I was the only one crying. I really liked that dumb old lizard. Note to self: Overdoing it on the alcohol while not consuming grains is a very bad idea. And if you DO drink too much, three wheat thins are not going to save you. I still have a headache.
I also had a hand full of Ruffles potato chips on Sunday because I felt sorry for myself.
The one dairy I allow is a little half and half in my coffee each morning - I think it would be ridiculously cruel to give that up, so I won't.
But other than that...no grains or dairy! And other than the headache, I feel fabulous!
I really wish I could upload photos (I need to figure out why I can't!), because I would love to share photos of some of the dishes I've been making!
Saturday night's chicken wings and curried crispy sweet potato chips ("battered" in almond flour!) were awesome!
We had my mom, my nephew and sister in law over for dinner last night and the braised short ribs served over candied carrots with mashed faux-tatoes were a hit!
I'll see if I can fix the photo uploading issue. Meanwhile, I'm going to take another aspirin and get ready for work!
Friday, January 11, 2013
5 Days, I'm Winning!
I made it 5 days with no grains and no dairy! I shouldn't say I "made it", because that implies it was difficult. It wasn't. I haven't slept so well, heartburn free, in a long time. I also don't crave or miss anything. Maybe I really am "something" sensitive. Not sure what though, since I cut out a lot of food all at once. But it feels good. I have lots of energy and it's constant instead of the usual highs and lows.
I'm also 5 pounds down, which is a nice bonus!
Rob told me that he can sense a change in my motivation this time, like the time I really quit smoking for good. That's a good sign. I'm hopeful! It doesn't hurt that I ordered an exorbitantly expensive saddle a size smaller than I should have. It's not like buying a pair of jeans that you're sure you'll get into "in a week or two" and then letting them sit in your closet.
My favorite food finds this week were a shrimp stuffed avocado (I ate an ENTIRE avocado smothered with chilled cooked shrimp and onion, drizzled with a little olive oil and red wine vinegar), and braised swiss chard in onion and apple juice, tossed with apple cider vinegar, sea salt and pine nuts. The chard was a great side dish to the Bobotie which is a favorite WW South African meat pie recipe. We both loved it!
Now it's the weekend and I've got a little entertaining to do! I'll see how I do with the no grain/dairy thing over the weekend and report back Monday! The Paleo plan is supposed to be 85/15, so I've got some wiggle room anyway.
Saturday night, I'm making chicken wings with aioli dipping sauce and crunchy curried sweet potato chips for a girl's get-together. Sunday night, we'll be having balsamic braised short ribs, candied carrots and mashed faux-tatoes (cauliflower) for a small dinner party I'm hosting.
News flash!
Lard is back!! (click here for an interesting article!)
My goal is to be a total lard-ass in 2013. And I mean that in a good way!
I'm also 5 pounds down, which is a nice bonus!
Rob told me that he can sense a change in my motivation this time, like the time I really quit smoking for good. That's a good sign. I'm hopeful! It doesn't hurt that I ordered an exorbitantly expensive saddle a size smaller than I should have. It's not like buying a pair of jeans that you're sure you'll get into "in a week or two" and then letting them sit in your closet.
My favorite food finds this week were a shrimp stuffed avocado (I ate an ENTIRE avocado smothered with chilled cooked shrimp and onion, drizzled with a little olive oil and red wine vinegar), and braised swiss chard in onion and apple juice, tossed with apple cider vinegar, sea salt and pine nuts. The chard was a great side dish to the Bobotie which is a favorite WW South African meat pie recipe. We both loved it!
Now it's the weekend and I've got a little entertaining to do! I'll see how I do with the no grain/dairy thing over the weekend and report back Monday! The Paleo plan is supposed to be 85/15, so I've got some wiggle room anyway.
Saturday night, I'm making chicken wings with aioli dipping sauce and crunchy curried sweet potato chips for a girl's get-together. Sunday night, we'll be having balsamic braised short ribs, candied carrots and mashed faux-tatoes (cauliflower) for a small dinner party I'm hosting.
News flash!
Lard is back!! (click here for an interesting article!)
My goal is to be a total lard-ass in 2013. And I mean that in a good way!
