30 days of journaling - Day 1

1. My favorite way to spend the day is…

Wrapped in a lover's arms, gazing into his eyes, feeling that otherworldly connection, wholeheartedly understood. (Audible sigh.) But as I am now lover-less... 

I imagine a day... where the weather is beautiful. Sunshine, a breeze. Perhaps 75 degrees. The kind of day where you just can't stop exclaiming, "What a beautiful day!" over and over again. I'm outside, marveling in God's creation, whether it be water, mountains or wide spaces.

I go out on the open water. Gaze into the horizon. Sun on my face. Wind in my hair. I am shrouded in utter peace and calm. The boat rocks underneath me. All is quiet.

Later, my legs are moving. I'm running, hiking, walking... I am thanking Him for blessing me with a body that works, that allows me to move how and where I want, to see and accomplish almost anything. I put my body to the test. Blood pumping, muscles flexing, my body gets me where I want to go. The end of the road, the top of the peak. The incredible high. 

The rest of the day I'm coming down from the high. Perhaps it's time to put my mind to work. Reading, writing, prayer. Introspection, reflection. 

The only thing that could make this day better would be to share it with a partner. 

Patience, my soul. He is out there.

Why would my perfect day lack family or friends? I asked myself that as well. For some reason, I think it's time for me to see perfection in being alone.

6 things I learned by reaching my goal weight

I was not fat. Looking at me a few months ago, you'd see a few extra pounds on a small frame. My shape was proportionate, but not perfect. 

By 1960s standards, I was probably ideal. By today's standards, I was curvy. 

At 5'9", I considered 155 and up the danger zone. To me, 150 was acceptable. 145 was my happy place. And 140, a number I hadn't seen since age 16, was the pie-in-the-sky goal, the number I never expected to see again. 

I now weigh 133. This is how I did it.
 

1. Keep a food diary.

The cold hard truth of what I ate stared back at me in black and white. Seeing that made me change a few things.

I didn't "count calories." But I kept track of what I was eating and how much. I started measuring the cereal in my morning bowl. The cheese on my quesadilla. The handful of nuts on my salad. Being able to ballpark the caloric impact of my meals and snacks, to see where I was overdoing it, was very useful. I turned a 500-calorie meal into a 400-calorie meal with nearly no effort at all. And that 300-calorie snack? My food diary helped me justify whether it was even worth it.

Full disclosure: I was going through a breakup. I had little appetite, and no desire to cook. I used to spend a lot of time preparing elaborate meals for this man, and now that I was alone, I didn't want to do that. I made a lot of small, simple meals like protein shakes and veggie burgers.

2. Move EVERY DAY. 

I made exercise the rule, not the exception. I woke up early to go running before work. I went to boot camp group classes at night. On the weekends, I would go on hour-long hikes. Even on the days when my schedule was packed, I would go on a 20-minute walk during my lunch hour.

I used to exercise pretty regularly, but I've never been so committed to exercise until now. Every day, I made time for activity, even at a minimum of 20 minutes. Anyone can do that and work up.

Besides, now I had loads of free time to fill. And exercise helped me escape from my heartache. It helped clear my mind and was therapeutic. I started to look forward to it, and felt like something was missing from my day if I didn't get my workout in.

3. Give up desserts. 

I knew my weak spot, my source of temptation. It was sweets. And since they can pack a pretty punch in calories, eliminating them completely was the way to go. (I also tied it to Lent, so I definitely couldn't cheat — God was watching.)

For me, going cold turkey was best. I knew otherwise I would try to make rationalizations and justifications on a case-by-case basis. I even went to Cheesecake Factory with the family and had a coupon for a free slice of cheesecake… and I abstained. Pretty proud of that one!

The only thing I allowed myself during Lent was semisweet chocolate chips.

Now that Lent is over, do I eat desserts? Sometimes. Not very often. I no longer need something sweet at the end of every day. Once in a while I'll allow myself a treat, but I'll work it into my daily food consumption. But I don't need it. I can say no. And the realization that I have that power, that food does not control me, is a motivating feeling.
 

4. Cut back on alcohol. 

This one's pretty simple. Extra calories, no nutritional value, and costs money. Did I stop drinking completely? No. I still went to happy hour here and there. I still enjoyed nights out with friends.

But I used to crack open a bottle of wine a few times a week. I'd settle in on the couch with the boyfriend and we'd have a few drinks and talk and flirt. It was almost a daily occurrence to have some wine with dinner or a few beers.

Since I was feeling down, I could've self-medicated with alcohol. But I didn't. I knew it wasn't going to help. I decided to be more mindful about how much I drank, how often, and the reason why.
 

5. No self-punishment.

I didn't follow a strict diet. I ate some big meals. There were some holidays, some late night snacks. Some days I didn't keep track of food consumption because I didn't want to know.

Too many times, in earlier years, dieting seemed hopeless. I'd do really well but then fall off the wagon. I would feel dejected and give up. But this time, I wasn't dieting. I was changing.

I didn't beat myself up. I respected my journey. I gave myself allowances for bad decisions and moved on, understanding that every day is a new one. Change is fluid. I don't let any negativity enter my mind, and I live every day as its own. I am listening to my body.
 

6. There is a down side.

If you asked me if I'm happy at 133 pounds, I would say I don't know. There are pros and cons. I've saved lots of money on food, only buying the necessities, but now hardly anything fits. I have to go shopping for an entire new wardrobe, or get my clothes altered, both of which aren't cheap. My waist is whittled, but my breasts have shrunk.

If you asked me if I'm happy with my healthier habits, I would tell you a resounding yes. My body is fitter and faster and my mind is at ease. When my stomach expresses its desires, I listen and evaluate. I am in complete control of what goes into my mouth, and every decision is a conscious one.

Will I lose more weight? I might, or I might not. I'm not going to worry about it. At my height, with a small frame, the recommended weight range is 129 to 142. I'm not underweight or overweight, I'm right in the middle.

And I do look pretty great in a bikini. Good thing I have a push-up top.

"Your cat has cancer"

My darling lady Luna, just 5 years old. You wouldn't think such a young healthy animal would have any ailments. She certainly didn't act any differently. The only change was a small hard marble-sized bump to the right of her spine. You never would've thought...

I found out in June that my precious kitty had cancer, a soft-tissue sarcoma. And it has been SUCH a roller coaster.

I took her in for a fine needle aspirate and I was crushed to find out it was an aggressive form of sarcoma. It could travel to her lymph nodes and infect her lungs. She might not have that long to live. I broke down. 

My boyfriend insisted there was something we could do. We could get a CAT scan. We could do surgery. We could biopsy it. She's only 5! She could still live a long and happy life, if we beat the cancer! Bawling and clutching my darling Luna daughter, Jeff convinced me we owe it to her to find out where the cancer was, how far it had metastasized and if surgery was EVEN AN OPTION. I also called my brother's girlfriend, an aspiring veterinary surgeon undergoing her final year of education in Boston, who gave me so much hope that this could definitely extend her life.

So, we got the scan. They drugged my little lady and popped her in the cat-sized machine. She was all teary and bleary eyed when she came out. Then I saw what was really happening inside of her. See the mass on the right side? That's the tumor. Whoa. That thing wasn't messing around.

The vet said since there was still a plane between the tumor and her organs, it could be operated on! And the good news was, her lungs and lymph nodes were clean. And he was very confident it could be done successfully.

Time for the surgery. They chopped her up and took out a lot of tissue. That's because with a soft-tissue sarcoma there are microscopic tendrils that permeate the surrounding tissue. They are supposed to take a large chunk outside of the tumor to make sure they get it all. Owee! Poor baby! We still wouldn't know how fast this tumor was growing (what stage). They do the biopsy after they take it out, not before.

My heart broke for my Luna love. She was not happy. She tried to get to her sutures and being the clever girl she was, didn't like wearing a cone and could pull a magic escape trick. We put her in some 6-month-old onesies, cutting off the bottoms, to keep her back covered. That seemed to help keep her from bothering with her wound, but it limited her mobility and it was tough putting it on her. She eventually got used to it.

It was definitely a full time job taking care of the little baby. She had to take her liquid painkillers twice a day with a syringe squirt to her mouth. She wasn't too fond of that. We also had to make sure she didn't get out of her shirt or her cone. I slept with the light on and one eye open for days, so I could make sure she was still next to me or if I felt her move I could see where she was immediately. Jeff slept in the living room so to give her lots of space in the bed. I truly felt what it was to take care of and ache for a sick child -- she's the closest thing I have to one, at least.

Then we got the results of the biopsy. There were dirty borders. The vet didn't cut far enough. One of those microscopic tendrils went to the edge of the sample. So those damn cancer cells were still inside her. Not only that, but it was aggressive. Think stage III or IV in human cancer. It may only be a matter of time until it comes back.

Nearly 3 months later... and we're struggling with something else. Luna got another bump on the opposite side of her back. We've taken her in several times to get another sample taken. But both times, there's been a lot of fluid and the results have been inconclusive. The second time they drained it, there was evidence of an infection. The third time they lanced it and it drained bloody pus for days. We've had her on antibiotics a few weeks now. The bump has slimmed down some, but we still don't know for sure what it is. Inflammation from a reaction to the sutures under the skin? Or possibly the tumor reoccurring?

All I can do is hope and pray that my little Luna is a fighter and can hold it off as long as possible. I mean, my friends wouldn't call her "Lunatic" for nothing. She's a survivor.

$3,000 later, but so much richer for the time spent with my kitty, feeling her trust, her acceptance, and her reliance. I don't care if people gasp or roll their eyes about the number. Can you put a price on the love between an pet parent and her daughter? On a little one that is there for you and trusts you no matter what you say or do? And even if we have only two more years with her, that's only $4 a day. I can skip a cappuccino if it means another day with my baby girl.

P.S. Special thanks to my boyfriend for his support and his love (not only to me, but to Luna!) and also his financial contribution to her surgery. Thanks to my brother's girlfriend Jess Giannetto, who gave me lots of helpful advice and lended me her vast knowledge of veterinary medicine to help me in my decision-making. And thank you to my mom, who understood everything I was going through and was a virtual shoulder to cry on. It was she who imparted her love of animals onto me.

Grown-up pizza party

I love cooking, and I love taking care of my boyfriend. So it's a little selfish of me to tell him I'm going to make him any meal he wants -- because it turns out pretty damn good for me. I asked Jeff earlier this week what he wanted for dinner Saturday, and pizza is what he told me. And so Operation Grown-Up Pizza Party commenced. 

I established a menu featuring 1) mushroom, artichoke, ricotta, and white garlic sauce pizza 2) tomato, fresh mozzarella and basil pizza 3) buffalo "chicken," red onion, and bleu cheese pizza. I chose the buffalo combo as the wild card pizza, cuz my baby loves buffalo sauce. (I had also considered pesto and barbeque chicken pizza as well.)

There were a lot of moving parts so I had to consider time management. Some of the first things I did was chop basil, prep and saute mushrooms and onions, and toast fennel, and set aside. I also cooked up the "chicken" (I'm vegetarian, so this was Quorn) and let sit in buffalo sauce.

Then Jeff and I started on the dough. We used about half and half white and wheat flour. (I wouldn't recommend any more wheat than that. Otherwise you get a very wheaty flavor that overpowers the pizza taste.) 

I taught Jeff how to properly measure flour. Guess he missed Home Ec class! Then I made the garlic sauce on the stove for the first pizza, the mushroom, and set aside to thicken. We made a no-yeast crust, very simple, made of flour, baking soda, oil, and water. We mixed the toasted fennel seeds into the dough. Jeff did all the flattening and stretching!

Boy do I love ricotta cheese on pizza. It's important too to fold over the crust. The sauce was really juicy, so it would've just spilled over otherwise. This one baked up reaaaaaaal nice!! 

Then onto the next pizza. Buffalo chicken. The cilantro is a nice little touch.





Meanwhile, Jeff made some more crusts. Onto the margherita pizza -- a classic! I had to use real mozzarella here. The log kind. 

Large beefsteak tomatoes, sliced thin, with the wet seedy parts pulled out, were put on the pizza with abandon. Nobody likes soggy pizza! For the sauce, plain tomato worked just fine. The kind that costs like 79 cents. No need for pricey "pizza sauce" -- tomato sauce pretty much has all the same ingredients. The extra fennel seeds went on this as well.

Add a healthy dose of shredded basil and dusting of parmesan... Pop it in the oven at 400 degrees. 18 minutes was about perfect (separately, not together, in the oven).

I mean, look at that mozzarella (right). How brown and toasty it got. Seriously, they kicked ass!! We ate happily! Grown up pizza night was a huge success. And if I had to choose, the mushroom was the best... but the margherita was a close close second. The buffalo was for my baby -- so I didn't mind that one wasn't fabulous. Although, buffalo sauce lovers would say it was -- fabulous. :)

What will we come up with next pizza night? There is plenty of mozzarella left....

The easiest way to lose weight without trying

Losing weight by eating cookies and chocolate and decadent holiday meals? Sound impossible? No. Just sign up for a half marathon. 

I took on my 4th half marathon this winter. Having done this before, I was determined to really train this year. No half-assing it. Last year I felt miserable after those 13.1 miles, and actually did 20 seconds worse than the year before. If I was doing this again, I was doing this for real. 

About about 8 weeks before the race, I buckled down. I started a program where I was running about 5 days a week, of varying distances, including speedwork. At minimum I was doing sets of sprints or 3 mile slow runs. And every weekend I would have a long run (that got progressively longer). I saw my pace creeping faster and faster. And I'm telling you, this is the only way to keep your weight under control during the holidays (I started training in mid-November).

Of course, I missed a few workouts. Like on Christmas... and New Year's... and when it was raining out... but I would estimate I completed about 85-90% of the runs that were required of my regimen. I even got super sick a few times -- apparently your digestion shuts down while running long distances because all the oxygen in your blood is going to your muscles -- anyway, not a fun thing to experience. 

And somehow through it all, I started and kept losing... bonus side effect of all the miles I was putting on my body. Looking back, I have lost about 8 pounds since I began training.

The PF Changs Rock 'n' Roll Marathon race day came Sunday, just a few days ago. Weather was perfect, and my trusty and loyal sidekick Jeff was there before the crack of dawn having VIP breakfast with me. But unfortunately he's not trusty and loyal enough to run it... just cheer me on. Oh well! Thanks for being at the start, the 6-mile mark, and the finish line for me babe.

Fast forward 2 hours, 24 minutes and 5 seconds later, I crossed that finish line. 2:24:05 -- a scratch under an 11 minute mile. And I felt great. And all the pain and soreness and training was worth it. 

AND...... the scale hasn't been this low since senior year of high school --> almost a better achievement than crossing that finish line. Almost.

Celebrating the holidays with family and food

It's a rare thing, when you move away from home as an adult, to spend the holidays with your family. You're so much more appreciative of the simplicity of spending time with your parents once you don't have the opportunity.

Christmas and Christmas Eve with my family and off of work. What a wonderful dose of domesticity!

Mom and Dad flew in on the 20th, Thursday night, and Jeff picked them up. Call me crazy, but I tracked their plane's arrival and then Jeff delivering them home on "Find my Friends." Even though I was due not to see them for another few hours, being at work. Let's skip ahead to Saturday, when my vacation really began. 

Mom and I went to the spa, Dad and Jeff went to see a movie. We rendezvoused at the mall. My parents' Christmas gift to us was a wonderful set of nice Anolon frying pans - 3 skillets of varying sizes, a square skillet for pancakes, and a nice chopping knife. Oh, the things we get excited about when we grow older. 

Saturday night, I tried to make a reservation for the Salt Cellar, but it was full until 8 p.m. Old people don't eat that late (sorry Mom and Dad). So I decided to throw something together. 

This creation is a mix between Asian and Italian - yes, I know, a curious combo.

I absolutely despise deveining shrimp. It's gross. And my boyfriend was conveniently not home to participate. The marinade for the shrimp was lemon juice, cilantro, ginger-honey balsamic vinegar, onions, garlic, and oil -- emulsified in a blender. No butter or cream here! We marinated the shrimp for about a half hour due to time constraints, then I cooked up some soba noodles. All I had, ok? Well, it turns out Asian and Italian foods make a delicious food baby. Everyone enjoyed.

We went to church Sunday morning and afterwards, I made banana oat and nut pancakes. No pictures of that one, sadly.

Sunday night we went to the Salt Cellar and ordered our delectable fish dinners. Of course, Jeff and Dad fought about who was going to pay. Age trumped, and Jeff drove home in a huff. I thought it was kind of amusing that both my men are so generous. 

I got up Monday to make a brunch quiche -- one of my favorites ever -- kale, shallot and Gruyere cheese. It didn't turn out exactly like I remembered. Those of you who know Gruyere knows how bold it tastes. This variety was pretty weak-tasting. That made me sad, because it's my favorite cheese. Still, it turned out pretty good, and everyone raved.

The fam and I took Monday afternoon to drive around the valley. We toured Fountain Hills, and I tried to convince my parents they could rent a little townhouse there for half the year and really enjoy themselves once they retire. Then we drove down to South Mountain and up to Dobbins Point, where a little pueblo sits on top of a large staggering mountain. 

Monday night - Christmas Eve - came and gave me yet another chance to feed my parents and let my mom relax from cooking and hosting, something I'm sure she's been exhausted of doing after hundreds of holidays. I don't like seeing her running around and serving and stressing and never getting to sit and enjoy a bite. This time I made meaty meatless chili, with Gardein crumbles, mixed chili beans, peppers, onions, and corn. Topped with shredded cheese and cilantro, with crusty bread on the side. This chili could've fooled any meat-eater. These leftovers were very much enjoyed by Jeff and I.

Then Mom and I started making cookies. Mom is the cookie queen. I guess when you make something every Christmas for 3-4 decades, you get pretty good at it. First it was making the dough, chilling it, then we cut half the dough and left the other half to continue chilling. 

Rolled it out to the perfect thickness, and cut. Cut dozens of trees, stars, hearts, candy canes, gingerbread men, and flowers. Thank God for Wal-mart, that's where these little cookie cutters came from, the last in the store on Christmas Eve. We had about 6 baking sheets going into and coming out of the oven like a relay race. We then cut and baked the other half. Next came the decorating.

We made three different kinds of frosting -- 1 vanilla, 1 almond, and 1 chocolate. And we got a little bit creative with the sprinkles, as you can see. Even dug out the shredded coconut.

Christmas is here! We woke up and went to church, then came home and made cinnamon rolls, a Rose family Christmas morning staple. Then we opened presents in the living room. Jeff and I took turns opening up our presents for each other. I think he really liked everything. Best... girlfriend... ever??

Then we went down to the theatre to see Les Miserables. Jeff and I saw this earlier this summer on Broadway, when we were visiting in San Fran. It was his first acquaintance with the show. I had been soooo looking forward to seeing this movie. I teared up every time I saw a preview. Tissues in hand, it definitely met all expectations. Sooooooo good! Anne Hathaway and Hugh Jackman killed it. And Russell Crowe somehow made Javert just a little likeable. But I digress...

We came home and now it was time for the Christmas finale, the meal. We had bought lobster from Brazil, which may be a little off-the-beaten-path for lobster, but it was crazy good. As you will soon find out. Jeff did the dethawing and butterflying of the lobster tails. But he got off easy because there were no veins to devein. Pssssthhht.

We threw on a butter, lemon juice, and paprika marinade, pepper, and baked the lobsters up, while I worked on the mash potatoes. I roasted garlic and shallots in a dish in the oven, and was very impressed to see shallots roasted much like garlic, if not in a little more time. Throw it in the potatoes with butter and cream, and viola! Creamy garlickly shallotly mashed potatoes. The rest was greens tossed with raspberry orange balsamic vinegar, oil, tomatoes and cucumbers. Magnifico!!! My crowning victorious moment. Most delicious lobster ever. Good thing we made 6 tails, because I was definitely having half of another one.

And so, a superb and spectacular Christmas visit.  The only thing to worry about is, how am I gonna top this next year.

Nothing better than family

Earlier this year I was hanging out with my family - my dad, my sister in law, and all the kids - and my dad casually mentioned he was a Pearl Harbor baby. Huh?
 

He believes he was conceived just after the bombing of Pearl Harbor in December of 1941, so that his dad would be less likely to go to war. Indeed - he was born September of 1942. Making him….. 70 YEARS OLD this year! Dang, I didn't even realize, I better do something special for his birthday!

So Jeff and I planned a surprise visit back home to my hometown. We told my mom, who was going to pick us up from the airport and chuckle, "Look who I found wandering around?" I could just imagine my dad - eyes open wide, mouth agape, mind boggled.

Well Mom is getting old too, and at age 64, left our flight itinerary up on the computer for when Dad got home, spilling the beans. 

Sigh… so much for a surprise...

This same weekend, one of my best friends, a wonderful person who everyone loves, Maggie, is getting married. (Made sense to combine both events in one weekend.) No one deserves happiness more than she does. 

Meanwhile, this will be Jeff and I's 3rd wedding to attend this year, two more to go. And yet, still not anywhere closer to the altar ourselves. Don't judge me for picking out a venue, setting a prospective date and creating a list of invitees….