Hey guess what?

O to the M to the G, can you believe it! I don't want to make a big deal in real life because I can't figure out any way to say the phrase "working on a novel" without sounding like a jerk but seriously I'm so proud of myself right now I can hardly stand it.

Make no mistake, it stinks so out loud that if I printed it it would actively smell bad, but I think it has good bones and I think I'm going to pursue making it into to something I wouldn't mind if other people read. But even if it never leaves my computer, I literally cannot remember a time in my life where I haven't wanted to write a book, academic, fiction, whatever, just a book. In fact, I used to write Ninja Turtles fanfic when I was a kid (seriously, my little brother illustrated them and I think my mom still has them) but when I got older and learned to doubt myself I gave novel writing a shot several times and always crapped out after like twelve pages. But something about having to cram all of this into such a short time period took all the pressure off and it just came out. I did the last 10,000 words in 48 hours.

So, in summary, Today is a pretty good day for walking around like I own the place.

I ran in front of people...

and nothing bad happened!

I ran my first 5k this weekend. It was such a wonderful experience, I can't wait to do it again. I have never in my life run any significant length outdoors where everyone can see me and due to my unfortunate PE experience I was really anxious about that aspect of it. Also, I knew it was going to be cold and hilly which I don't have to deal with on the treadmill so I was concerned with how this would effect my performance.

The first hill appeared about half a mile in and when I saw it I immediately thought "I can't believe I'm going to crap out in the first mile." It was steep and winding and I have never been good at climbing. Even when I was spending four hours a day at the gym right before my wedding, and could carry my husband from the back of the Walmart parking lot to the door, an incline on a treadmill or 2 minutes on a stair climber would kill me. Those muscles just seem to be the last to respond to anything I do. For a moment I even considered stopping before I reached the hill in an effort to avoid the eventual disappointment/humiliation.

But I kept going and before I even knew it I was at the top high fiveing the boy scouts who were cheering us on at various points along the route (So cute!) and on my way down again. And that just kept happening, just up and over. It wasn't easy, but it was doable and sustainable, and I'm just crazy proud of that because I've never been able to achieve that before.

Oh yeah and I placed 3rd in division and got a friggin medal! So, yeah I'm hot stuff right now. I went to Kohl's and got a fancy running jacket and I'm going to try running outside once a week now in my neighborhood which has got some impressive hills in order to improve for next time. I'm hoping there will be something going on around my hometown in late December so my mom can come.

Sorry I'm not more articulate but it's late and I'm doing NaNoWriMo because I'm crazy so I'm at the end of my writing rope for the evening.

Cheers!

MJtBA Part 3: Shifting Perspectives

My life seems to be divided into noticeable blocks of time where I saw the world in one particular way and then something happens and I have a drastically different viewpoint that makes it hard for me to relate to the person I was before. I'm not talking about external things like political, social, or religious views. Even as a child I was pretty agnostic, pro-choice, and (though of course I didn't learn the term until I was older) socially progressive. I'm talking about perspectives about myself which affect how I interact with the world around me.

For example, there was a time in my life when I accepted facts given to me by authority figures completely at face value without examination of their merit. There was a time that I would nervously pretend that I agreed with my peers just to fit in. Or kept secrets about benign likes and dislikes to avoid being made fun of. This letter could have been addressed to me just two short years ago.

I'm not ashamed of any of this. Personal development is a natural part of growing up and it's not surprising that there are situations I've come across even as an adult that I would probably handle differently now.

One of the major things that changed me was having my son. Before my pregnancy I was pretty willing to allow toxic people into my life to run all over me. I knew that these people were bad for me, but it was like I felt sorry for them or like I was obligated to help them along in life because they were misfits just like I felt I was. Plus I will admit I got some pleasure out of being told how great I was for putting up with all the bullshit. Being a martyr is kind of intoxicating. Getting together with my husband definitely started chipping away at that behavior, but it wasn't until I got pregnant that I drew a line in the sand when it came to my codependent tendencies. I can't do that anymore. I'm a mom and I have to be mentally healthy for my boy.

Interestingly though, developing my body image has gone a long way toward easing my fear of confrontation that created a lot of the shenanigans listed above. I'm not overly confrontational or anything. I'd still prefer to keep the peace on most occasions. But I'm genuinely not suffering from the delusion that if I make myself invisible, no one will notice I'm fat.

I think this is a problem a lot of fat people suffer from. The word "fat" is super loaded in our culture. It implies smelly, lazy, stupid, gluttonous, etc. , and it pretty much shuts down any argument because most of us (even a lot of thin people) are mortified by this accusation. It was like this imagined silver bullet just hovering out there waiting on me. I would rehearse a confrontation in my head and get maybe four lines in before my would-be opponent made a fat joke and all was lost as I slunk home with my tail between my legs. IN MY OWN FIGHT FANTASY! Sheesh.

And here's the weird part. I never ever ever ever once in my life ever believed any of those fat stereotypes to be true of other people. I have always been around a wide range of body diversity and I've pretty well always been on the small side of fat. I've never found fat to equal automatically unattractive in anyone but me. I know people who weigh over 400 pounds and live active lives (one of them plays college football and baseball and no he is not all muscle) with friends and romance and families and all the other things Sanjay Gupta wants you to think you can't have while fat. I have absolutely always believed that a fat person can simultaneously be a beautiful person. I've seen it with my own eyes on many occasions. Yet, it's almost like I saw myself as the one and only really fat person on the face of the planet. No one else deserved all the torment and shame heaped upon fat people in this culture. You know, except me and my lazy fat ass deserved it in spades apparently.

It has been hard to shake this mentality and believe things like my husband loves me for attributes that include my body not in spite of my body. Or that no, in fact I'm not lazy and if I were it would be no one else's business because I have no moral obligation to be otherwise. I spent a lot of time afraid of being fat or fatter even when I was thin and that hampered me quite a bit. The notion that I am fat and that is totally fine has made a huge difference in my life. I still have doubts and hard days but I'm no longer afraid of speaking up.

Watch out world. There is no silver bullet, no kryptonite, no Avada Kedavra. I'm free now to be exactly who I am.

My Journey to Body Acceptance Part 2: Feeling at Home

I ran 4 miles last night.

I'm just going to let that stand on its own because I am SO proud of it. I don't really know why even. I feel like I did something really important though and I'm deciding to relish it.

However, I am simultaneously experiencing a rush of resentment towards my school PE teachers. You see, last night I met a goal that I never consciously set simply because I would have never believed I was capable of such a thing. I was just feeling pretty good when I got to the end of my third mile (I have a 5k coming up which is what I've been "training" for.) and so I decided to keep going and all of the sudden there it was. And I find myself thrilled, but very very angry.

I have been building up to this since April. If I remember right I could not even do a half mile then at a slower pace than I am running now. I've gotten here because I was patient with myself. If was hurting, tired, or injured I didn't run. I didn't go faster or longer until I was sure I was ready. And I was finally and honestly working out to do something for my health and for myself rather than pursuing the goal of making myself take up less space in the universe.

Running makes me feel great. It clears my head. I can tell that I've gained strength as well as speed. I have more energy during the day than I used to. Most importantly, I feel very at home in my body in a way I never really have before. (I plan to write more about this feeling.)

I'm just bitter mostly at a particular teacher, Coach J, for making me intentionally avoid running because I have found that I really really really enjoy it. Starting in elementary school Coach J would make us run a mile as a class. He clearly delineated what was a good time and made sure we knew anything less was unacceptable and was pretty effective at pushing the POV that anyone who could not achieve said time or better was somehow defective. There was no discussion of what running could do for your health, no starting benchmarks from which improvement could be made.Nothing. Just a whistle, a stopwatch, and an unnatural affinity for humiliating little kids. Among other bad behavior, Coach J allowed an ENTIRE 6th grade class to make fun of me for running slowly. I don't know what he was going for, but I didn't run again on purpose until my last year of grad school.

I guess our teaching philosophies differ. I think teachers are charged with providing safe spaces and opportunities for growth and learning. He thinks he should blow a whistle and be a jerk.

The sad thing is that I really believe that proper Phys Ed is important and can be a positive force in a kid's life. In a proper PE class I would have been TAUGHT to find and honor my physical comfort zone and provided with reasonable and appropriate opportunities to expand that zone rather than just being shamed and barked at.

Running has been so important to me. Meeting and exceeding these goals makes me feel so accomplished and confident. And like I said, my relationship with my body has improved dramatically as a direct result. I think this would be true as I progressed in any physical activity that I liked. Feeling like this would have been very useful growing up and him and others like him cheat kids out of that everyday. It's shameful and it really is putting a cloud of spite over my happy time.

First Night-Night Alone

I put my son down in his crib to go to sleep by himself for the first time tonight. He cried when I put him down but I scratched his back for a little while and he stopped and sat down. I said "Night night" and I left. He was lying down as the door closed. He hasn't cried yet. It's been about 20 minutes. I've been crying since I shut the door. I don't even know why.

Psst!

Hey y'all as it turns out, brussels sprouts are freakin' delicious!

Via the How to Cook Everything app on my iPhone I bring you the recipe that made me love this much maligned vegetable. (So maligned in my life in fact, that I have never bothered trying them before.)

Sauteed Brussels Sprouts with Bacon

Ingredients:

6 Ounces Bacon, Chopped

1 Pound Brussels Sprouts (trim off hard edge of stems and remove first layer of leaves)

1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar

1 tablespoon thyme

( I added one handful of parmesan cheese at the end)

Steps:

1) Put the bacon in a large skillet over medium-high heat. When it starts to sizzle, reduce the heat to medium and cook until crisp and the fat is rendered. (about 5-10 minutes). Meanwhile, cut each sprout into thin slices or shreds, or cut them into quarters.

2) Add the sprouts and 1/4 cup water to the pan with the bacon; sprinkle with salt and pepper, turn the heat to medium, and cover. Cook, undisturbed, until nearly tender, about 5 minutes.

3) When the sprouts are ready, uncover and raise the heat back to medium-high. Cook, stirring occasionally, until any remaining water evaporates and the sprouts are fully tender, about 5 more minutes. Stir in the vinegar and thyme. Sprinkle cheese over top if desired.

Dew it!

ETA: OMG I just realized this isn't a Rachael Ray recipe!

Recipe Review: Buffalo Chicken Chili Mac

I made this Chili Mac recipe for dinner tonight.

Surprise! Surprise! It's a Rachael Ray recipe! I know. I'm eventually going to have to branch out, but there's a reason they call it a comfort zone.

Anyway, I'd recommend giving this a try if you like spicy stuff. It is pretty economical, simple, and makes a lot of food. It's even the kind of thing you could make the night before and then just pop in the oven for a little while after you get home. I used regular macaroni instead of whole wheat because that's what I already had, but I think whole wheat would work just as well in this kind of dish.

That being said, there were some problems for me.

1) For me, it was bit too spicy. The recipe calls for 1/4 to 1/2 cup hot sauce and I only used 1/4 and it still overwhelmed the rest of the flavors. I did leave it simmering for a really long time because I started making dinner early when I convinced myself it was an hour later than it really was so that could have been a contributing factor. You be the judge.

2) It needed more cheese. Next time I make it I'll probably add close to two cups worth of cheese to it. I'll probably pick a milder cheese (like either cheddar or mozzarella) for the additional gooeyness and while I'll definitely keep the pepper jack and blue cheesy crust on top ( I added some parmesan to that even), I plan to poor the chili mac mixture into the baking dish a little at a time and add cheese to each layer. I think that would balance things out and hold things together better.

3) There could have been more chicken. Budget-wise this probably stretches a buck pretty well with less meat and less cheese plus more pasta, and it is definitely filling. I just think that even one more chicken breast would have made it feel more substantial. But I think that's just a personal preference issue. It's totally fine without it too.