I'm sitting here waiting while Pat is in the operating room getting switched from one Ecmo to the lung only Ecmo support (which is good thing). I thought I'd just share some random stuff that has filled the days lately:
-Kindred spirits are everywhere. Yesterday I spent the better part of 10 hours with Felicity, Pat's nurse for the day. She & I discovered quickly we were the same age with much in common. Pat was shivering so the assistant turned up the Ecmo adjustment that heats the blood. After a while she told us that it said, "the blood is getting too hot, it wants me to turn it down." I said, "Then you mean he is hot-blooded?" Felicity & I looked at each other and burst into Foreigner's "I'm hot-blooded, check it and see. I got a fever of a 103. C'mon baby, can you do more than dance..." You can't buy that kind of instant mind-meld with someone. Look around you - kindred spirits are everywhere.
-Felicity was having neck pain. I wound up teaching a group of nurses and other specialists yoga asanas to loosen things up. It ws fun seeing people across the way showing other people what to do. Surgical cardiac ICU is a very stressful place, lots of tense muscles on these wonderful, beautiful people.
-I ran into a woman here who I substitute for & we have always just hit it off. Sadly, she was here for a problem she has been sharing with me as the reason I needed to come in for her. We were able to pray together for her surgery & all that might follow. Please remember her, Mrs. McP with young kids & a husband who need her to be okay.
-I was able to talk to my neighbor about Jesus & we both cried. He is going through a very difficult & terrifying time. Please lift him up. He needs divine intervention.
-My daughter, Jenna, has helped me with some semblance of normalcy by walking the dogs with me twice late, late late. It was such a blessing to walk & talk as if the world were still turning as usual.
-My daughters are all under extreme stress with this and God has been blessing them with helpers. As Mr. Rogers said, in times of tragedy, there are still helpers.
-My dogs; Sasha is a collie, that said she has her own mind & her own agenda. She has a system where she guards the upstairs, stationing herself either on our bed or on the top of the stairs. Charlie is required to guard the downstairs & to come tell her if she needs to come down (this is an elaborate display, involving up & down the stairs at least twice, a series of barks that say what is going on). WELL, Sasha has begun to force Charlie to do the upstairs (easier) job while she guards the downstairs. He is not thrilled with the change but she is calling the shots. I watched her command him, it's just amazing the level of communication.
-A crazy snobby woman in an Audi SUV nearly broad-sided me in the parking garage. When i honked & stopped in horror, she didn't even acknowledge me - while my heart was beating wildly she...maneuvered herself to continue cutting me off. Lest I seem too holy, I followed her, scaring the tar out of her, all the way past perfectly good parking spaces to the upper deck where I parked far so she'd think it safe...then went to her & yelled at her through her window and took very dramatic pictures of her license plate. There are people with little children in this parking garage, there are people all stressed, all scared, coming to see family, to go to cancer doctors, etc, no one needs the hassle, frustration and nightmare of a parking garage accident especially when they are already under stress. DRIVE SLOWLY and be courteous in parking garages!!! (And everywhere, please).
-Pat always liked to watching mushy movies with me and he always got all sappy and said that he & I were like the Notebook - as well as Wesley & Buttercup in the Princess Bride. Over & over I think of Wesley being "mostly dead" but true love brings him through.
-What does it matter if you gain the whole world and lose your own soul? There is nothing so important here that cannot be taken away from you - there are no people, possessions, dreams that cannot be forever changed in the blink of an eye. But there is assurance and there is hope. There is a hiding place, a shelter from the storm, there is a Mighty King who doesn't just want to be your Savior, He wants to be your Lord.
Saturday, July 9, 2016
Friday, July 8, 2016
In a single evening, my life changed
In single evening, even in a single moment. That is all it took to forever readjust my life and my priorities. I'm not even sure at this point how far the adjustment knob of my life has been turned.
My husband, Pat, and I had a normal weekend. We both felt a bit cruddy and didn't do our planned anniversary hike in the Pennsylvania mountains. Instead, we laid low - we walked the trails at couple of bogs and checked the state of the blueberry ripening. We watched a documentary on Edward Bruce, Robert the Bruce's brother, and his attempt to deliver Ireland from the English. We slept in a bit late on Sunday but made it to church on time. Had relaxing lunch and then went furniture shopping. We didn't see anything we liked but wanted to go home rather than continue shopping around. He napped a little then began his yard work that he loves to do. I made a gluten free black raspberry cobbler and he grilled some ribs.
After our late dinner, he went outside with the dogs to check the pool and make sure all was secure for the night. He was tired, a bit irritable and we were going to go to bed by 9pm. He came inside belching, complaining that after eating two Altoids he had developed heartburn. He was getting agitated and in obvious pain. He took Tums. By almost 10pm the emergency room had been spoken but he had me go to the store to buy Tagamet. He took it and we waited for something to happen. He was pacing. Putting his arms up over head and stretching on our pull-up bar. Sweating, frustrated. I kept asking where the pain was - and it was at the top of the stomach he said. I asked about his arm and he said no. He had me look up GERD and see what the dietary restrictions were and to find out what they would do if you went to the emergency room. When I read the lifestyle changes, when I said "No smoking" he got extremely angry at me and excused me of giving him a lecture. I kept asking him to go to the ER and he kept not wanting to. By midnight, I was exhausted and laid on a yoga mat on the living room floor. He was irritable and in pain, nothing helped. He tried a teaspoon of baking soda in warm water. Horrible tasting a no help. Finally, he agreed to go to the ER. I was exhausted, we argued while we were getting ready. He was unreasonable and that made me really angry. We bickered and he ended up driving his car while I drove mine. It was crazy and so abnormal.
We arrived at the ER and while the triage nurse talked assessed him, I did the financial stuff. They made him sit in a wheelchair. He was still agitated and very irritable. He was wheeled to a room ad rudely complaining about how long it was taking. It was actually very speedy, but time must have been going at a different pace for him. Once in the room, he was saying nasty things about the speed and a nurse came in to hook up an EKG. What she saw led her to rus to the doctor after 30 seconds, the doctor came in and told him that he was having a heart attack and they were sending him to Ahuja by helicopter. When they walked out, Pat got nasty saying that "This is Robinson, they don't know what they are doing, I'm not having heart attack." I had started to cry. I told hi he could always get a second opinion at the other hospital. The doctor and nurses came in giving him nitroglycerin, preparing him for the lifeflight. I kept telling him I loved him and he looked me in the eye and told me, "REMEMBER, I love you more" The lifeflight nurses gave him fentanyl and something else, we said I love you once more and he was wrapped up like a burrito and taken away.
My daughters all had their phones off but one. (I could only imagine how terrifying it would be to awake to those messages). Rhianna got out of bed, got dressed and prepared for me to pick her up. I ran to the house to pick up some important things and got her. We then drove the 25 miles to the next hospital where we were directed to cardiac ICU's waiting room. The team had been waiting for him and he was taken directly in.
It was a nerve-wracking wait - daughters had been waking up and calling, terrified to hear the news. We had even more terror when Rhianna and I suddenly heard, "CODE BLUE Cardiac ICU, CODE BLUE," We knew it was him. We prayed like never before. What an amazing wonder it was when the doctor finally came out and told us, that yes, it was him, but he had made it. They had resuscitated him and he was recovering and being put in a room. He had had a completely blocked artery, had heart catheterization surgery and a stent put in; as he surgery was ending, he had had a massive heart attack and pulmonary failure.
By 6pm, another daughter and her husband arrived, along with our pastor. When we could go back he prayed and we all hung around his bedside. After a time, the doctor said I should go home and sleep so Erin & her husband elected to stay. No sooner than Rhianna and I had gotten home and gotten prepared to rest, Erin contacted me to say he was going to be flown to Cleveland to the best cardiac unit in the state. No sleep - I then got my other daughter, Jenna, who drove while we rushed the 40 mile drive to Cleveland. Poor Jenna had been juggling what to do with three kids at home and praise God her husband was off for the Fourth. In spite of being 37 weeks pregnant and going through so many trials in the past weeks, she got us safely to the hospital.
Once in the heart unit, he had another procedure where a device called an Impella was inserting in his heart to assist the left ventricle and give the heart rest. A dance of adjustments between the respirator, the blood gas levels, machines and procedures I'm too tired to understand or describe. Not enough. After a night with a "suction event" and a mix of forward and backwards steps, he went for a new surgery to attach him to ECMO, extracorporeal membrane oxygenation, the highest form of life support. A mad dash had to take place between the third and second floors, a dance of adjustments and a team of several people for the dangerous journey to the cardiac surgical ICU.
The amazing team of doctors did the job and here it is, I've lost count of when and all. I just know it is Friday. He's on dialysis. His heart is doing better, his vitals have been well controlled by machines and all the blood pressure controlling meds have been discontinued. He is allowed to come out of sedation briefly to be asked to wiggle his toes, blink his eyes, etc. He does well. I had been happy when he squeezed my hand a couple of days go when I asked. Today was better - he turned his head when I spoke to him and tried to say something to me (impossible with the tube down his throat and his very swollen tongue).
So here we are, Friday - and this ordeal started Sunday night. He is going to go back in surgery for a step forward, the ECMO is being switched out to lungs only support. The Impella is down to a super low setting. Things are healing. The nephrologist came and explained the kidney situation and that what has gone on with his kidneys is common to this traumatic injury of the heart and gave me a timeline.
The love and support of friends and family has been overwhelming. It is beyond incredible to know how many hundreds of people are praying for him. To God be all the glory! We have felt His presence and His hand throughout this whole ordeal. Not a moment has gone by when we didn't know that He is in control. Whether Pat lives or dies, we know that God love us and that He is able to lead us and guide us through whatever the future holds.
Family has been amazing - both immediate and extended. The girls have just been fabulous and been able to help and support each other. Mother-in-laws, father=in-laws, great grandparents, have helped out with children so the girls could be with their dad. Friends have dropped everything to be by our side. It is just so humbling and gratifying.
My husband, Pat, and I had a normal weekend. We both felt a bit cruddy and didn't do our planned anniversary hike in the Pennsylvania mountains. Instead, we laid low - we walked the trails at couple of bogs and checked the state of the blueberry ripening. We watched a documentary on Edward Bruce, Robert the Bruce's brother, and his attempt to deliver Ireland from the English. We slept in a bit late on Sunday but made it to church on time. Had relaxing lunch and then went furniture shopping. We didn't see anything we liked but wanted to go home rather than continue shopping around. He napped a little then began his yard work that he loves to do. I made a gluten free black raspberry cobbler and he grilled some ribs.
After our late dinner, he went outside with the dogs to check the pool and make sure all was secure for the night. He was tired, a bit irritable and we were going to go to bed by 9pm. He came inside belching, complaining that after eating two Altoids he had developed heartburn. He was getting agitated and in obvious pain. He took Tums. By almost 10pm the emergency room had been spoken but he had me go to the store to buy Tagamet. He took it and we waited for something to happen. He was pacing. Putting his arms up over head and stretching on our pull-up bar. Sweating, frustrated. I kept asking where the pain was - and it was at the top of the stomach he said. I asked about his arm and he said no. He had me look up GERD and see what the dietary restrictions were and to find out what they would do if you went to the emergency room. When I read the lifestyle changes, when I said "No smoking" he got extremely angry at me and excused me of giving him a lecture. I kept asking him to go to the ER and he kept not wanting to. By midnight, I was exhausted and laid on a yoga mat on the living room floor. He was irritable and in pain, nothing helped. He tried a teaspoon of baking soda in warm water. Horrible tasting a no help. Finally, he agreed to go to the ER. I was exhausted, we argued while we were getting ready. He was unreasonable and that made me really angry. We bickered and he ended up driving his car while I drove mine. It was crazy and so abnormal.
We arrived at the ER and while the triage nurse talked assessed him, I did the financial stuff. They made him sit in a wheelchair. He was still agitated and very irritable. He was wheeled to a room ad rudely complaining about how long it was taking. It was actually very speedy, but time must have been going at a different pace for him. Once in the room, he was saying nasty things about the speed and a nurse came in to hook up an EKG. What she saw led her to rus to the doctor after 30 seconds, the doctor came in and told him that he was having a heart attack and they were sending him to Ahuja by helicopter. When they walked out, Pat got nasty saying that "This is Robinson, they don't know what they are doing, I'm not having heart attack." I had started to cry. I told hi he could always get a second opinion at the other hospital. The doctor and nurses came in giving him nitroglycerin, preparing him for the lifeflight. I kept telling him I loved him and he looked me in the eye and told me, "REMEMBER, I love you more" The lifeflight nurses gave him fentanyl and something else, we said I love you once more and he was wrapped up like a burrito and taken away.
My daughters all had their phones off but one. (I could only imagine how terrifying it would be to awake to those messages). Rhianna got out of bed, got dressed and prepared for me to pick her up. I ran to the house to pick up some important things and got her. We then drove the 25 miles to the next hospital where we were directed to cardiac ICU's waiting room. The team had been waiting for him and he was taken directly in.
It was a nerve-wracking wait - daughters had been waking up and calling, terrified to hear the news. We had even more terror when Rhianna and I suddenly heard, "CODE BLUE Cardiac ICU, CODE BLUE," We knew it was him. We prayed like never before. What an amazing wonder it was when the doctor finally came out and told us, that yes, it was him, but he had made it. They had resuscitated him and he was recovering and being put in a room. He had had a completely blocked artery, had heart catheterization surgery and a stent put in; as he surgery was ending, he had had a massive heart attack and pulmonary failure.
By 6pm, another daughter and her husband arrived, along with our pastor. When we could go back he prayed and we all hung around his bedside. After a time, the doctor said I should go home and sleep so Erin & her husband elected to stay. No sooner than Rhianna and I had gotten home and gotten prepared to rest, Erin contacted me to say he was going to be flown to Cleveland to the best cardiac unit in the state. No sleep - I then got my other daughter, Jenna, who drove while we rushed the 40 mile drive to Cleveland. Poor Jenna had been juggling what to do with three kids at home and praise God her husband was off for the Fourth. In spite of being 37 weeks pregnant and going through so many trials in the past weeks, she got us safely to the hospital.
Once in the heart unit, he had another procedure where a device called an Impella was inserting in his heart to assist the left ventricle and give the heart rest. A dance of adjustments between the respirator, the blood gas levels, machines and procedures I'm too tired to understand or describe. Not enough. After a night with a "suction event" and a mix of forward and backwards steps, he went for a new surgery to attach him to ECMO, extracorporeal membrane oxygenation, the highest form of life support. A mad dash had to take place between the third and second floors, a dance of adjustments and a team of several people for the dangerous journey to the cardiac surgical ICU.
The amazing team of doctors did the job and here it is, I've lost count of when and all. I just know it is Friday. He's on dialysis. His heart is doing better, his vitals have been well controlled by machines and all the blood pressure controlling meds have been discontinued. He is allowed to come out of sedation briefly to be asked to wiggle his toes, blink his eyes, etc. He does well. I had been happy when he squeezed my hand a couple of days go when I asked. Today was better - he turned his head when I spoke to him and tried to say something to me (impossible with the tube down his throat and his very swollen tongue).
So here we are, Friday - and this ordeal started Sunday night. He is going to go back in surgery for a step forward, the ECMO is being switched out to lungs only support. The Impella is down to a super low setting. Things are healing. The nephrologist came and explained the kidney situation and that what has gone on with his kidneys is common to this traumatic injury of the heart and gave me a timeline.
The love and support of friends and family has been overwhelming. It is beyond incredible to know how many hundreds of people are praying for him. To God be all the glory! We have felt His presence and His hand throughout this whole ordeal. Not a moment has gone by when we didn't know that He is in control. Whether Pat lives or dies, we know that God love us and that He is able to lead us and guide us through whatever the future holds.
Family has been amazing - both immediate and extended. The girls have just been fabulous and been able to help and support each other. Mother-in-laws, father=in-laws, great grandparents, have helped out with children so the girls could be with their dad. Friends have dropped everything to be by our side. It is just so humbling and gratifying.
Friday, September 13, 2013
To tell it like it is... or not
There was an object lesson that I used once with a group of children which involved squeezing a tube of toothpaste out and writing “words” on a piece of paper with the paste. The group soon discovered that while the “Words” came out easily enough, it was next to impossible to return the paste to the tube. It is just as hard to remove words from the atmosphere once they have been said.
In the movie, You’ve Got Mail, Kathleen Kelly bemoans her inability to come up with a response when provoked; she gets tongue-tied and later spends hours mulling over the things she should have said. Joe Fox responds that he has the opposite problem. He finds that, instead of smiling and moving on when irritated, his “Mr. Nasty” appears, revealing all of the arrogance, condescension and the secret hateful parts that should not be out and about. He says to Kathleen, “Wouldn't it be wonderful if I could pass all my zingers to you and then I would never behave badly and you could behave badly all the time and we'd both be happy? On the other hand, I must warn you that when you finally have the pleasure of saying the thing you mean to say at the moment you mean to say it, remorse inevitably follows.”
Kathleen does indeed experience that release, that surge of power in saying what you are thinking at the moment you think it. And as Joe Fox warned her, she feels remorse. “And as I waited, someone else showed up: a man who has made my professional life a misery. And an amazing thing happened. I was able, for the first time in my life to say the exact thing I wanted to say at the exact moment I wanted to say it. And, of course, afterwards, I felt terrible, just as you said I would. I was cruel, and I'm never cruel. And even though I can hardly believe what I said mattered to this man - to him, I am just a bug to be crushed - but what if it did? No matter what he's done to me, there is no excuse for my behavior.”
There has been a trend in recent years, a sad trend, involving abrasive people believing they have a right to “Tell it like it is.” The problem is that “telling it like it is” is only from their perspective. Abrasively, persons of this ilk feel that their opinion on a situation or another person is supreme and that they somehow are more than entitled to share their unkind thoughts, but actually deserve to speak them loudly and pointedly. Is it the feeling of momentary power or feeling of such self-rightness that it cannot be contained? Generally, the response is not one of “Thank you, buddy! You really set me straight! I’m so very glad you decided to tell me exactly how you feel about me or this situation in such straight-forward and strong language.” No, that is a highly unlikely reaction. The usual response is a burnt bridge. If there ever is something that needs to be discussed, my mother used to say “You catch more flies with honey than you do with vinegar.” Given a bouquet of flowers, one tends to celebrate roses not thorns.
“It is a wise thing to be polite; consequently, it is a stupid thing to be rude. To make enemies by unnecessary and willful incivility is just as insane a proceeding as to set your house on fire. For politeness is like a counter--an avowedly false coin, with which it is foolish to be stingy,” wrote Arthur Schopenhauer in Wisdom of Life and Counsels and Maxims. Rudeness, albeit with great conviction, does not build up relationships – it tears them down. Edmund Burke once said that “Rudeness is the weak man’s imitation of strength.”
These individuals who are infatuated with the idea of speaking their minds and “telling it like it is” don’t do this merely when confronted or irritated. They unleash their opinions or judgments on any manner of occasion. I’ve seen it released when someone was trying to be helpful, when someone was providing a listening ear, when someone was under a great deal of stress and hoping for advice. The unsuspecting recipient is left feeling devalued – and really, only the self-absorbed can feel powerful in devaluing another being.
As for me, I would rather be Kathleen Kelly, unable to have zingers roll of her tongue when faced with provocation. Walking away politely is much more dignified. Yes, mental rolling about of those things that could have been said is bound to happen – but those things are so much better locked tightly away in Pandora’s box rather than allowed unbridled rampage. Indeed, I would rather lose sleep over not saying unkind things than to feel terrible and lose sleep over having said words that can never be taken back.
In the movie, You’ve Got Mail, Kathleen Kelly bemoans her inability to come up with a response when provoked; she gets tongue-tied and later spends hours mulling over the things she should have said. Joe Fox responds that he has the opposite problem. He finds that, instead of smiling and moving on when irritated, his “Mr. Nasty” appears, revealing all of the arrogance, condescension and the secret hateful parts that should not be out and about. He says to Kathleen, “Wouldn't it be wonderful if I could pass all my zingers to you and then I would never behave badly and you could behave badly all the time and we'd both be happy? On the other hand, I must warn you that when you finally have the pleasure of saying the thing you mean to say at the moment you mean to say it, remorse inevitably follows.”
Kathleen does indeed experience that release, that surge of power in saying what you are thinking at the moment you think it. And as Joe Fox warned her, she feels remorse. “And as I waited, someone else showed up: a man who has made my professional life a misery. And an amazing thing happened. I was able, for the first time in my life to say the exact thing I wanted to say at the exact moment I wanted to say it. And, of course, afterwards, I felt terrible, just as you said I would. I was cruel, and I'm never cruel. And even though I can hardly believe what I said mattered to this man - to him, I am just a bug to be crushed - but what if it did? No matter what he's done to me, there is no excuse for my behavior.”
There has been a trend in recent years, a sad trend, involving abrasive people believing they have a right to “Tell it like it is.” The problem is that “telling it like it is” is only from their perspective. Abrasively, persons of this ilk feel that their opinion on a situation or another person is supreme and that they somehow are more than entitled to share their unkind thoughts, but actually deserve to speak them loudly and pointedly. Is it the feeling of momentary power or feeling of such self-rightness that it cannot be contained? Generally, the response is not one of “Thank you, buddy! You really set me straight! I’m so very glad you decided to tell me exactly how you feel about me or this situation in such straight-forward and strong language.” No, that is a highly unlikely reaction. The usual response is a burnt bridge. If there ever is something that needs to be discussed, my mother used to say “You catch more flies with honey than you do with vinegar.” Given a bouquet of flowers, one tends to celebrate roses not thorns.
“It is a wise thing to be polite; consequently, it is a stupid thing to be rude. To make enemies by unnecessary and willful incivility is just as insane a proceeding as to set your house on fire. For politeness is like a counter--an avowedly false coin, with which it is foolish to be stingy,” wrote Arthur Schopenhauer in Wisdom of Life and Counsels and Maxims. Rudeness, albeit with great conviction, does not build up relationships – it tears them down. Edmund Burke once said that “Rudeness is the weak man’s imitation of strength.”
These individuals who are infatuated with the idea of speaking their minds and “telling it like it is” don’t do this merely when confronted or irritated. They unleash their opinions or judgments on any manner of occasion. I’ve seen it released when someone was trying to be helpful, when someone was providing a listening ear, when someone was under a great deal of stress and hoping for advice. The unsuspecting recipient is left feeling devalued – and really, only the self-absorbed can feel powerful in devaluing another being.
As for me, I would rather be Kathleen Kelly, unable to have zingers roll of her tongue when faced with provocation. Walking away politely is much more dignified. Yes, mental rolling about of those things that could have been said is bound to happen – but those things are so much better locked tightly away in Pandora’s box rather than allowed unbridled rampage. Indeed, I would rather lose sleep over not saying unkind things than to feel terrible and lose sleep over having said words that can never be taken back.
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
Sticks, Stones, Rush Limbaugh & Double Standards
Sarah Palin is fair game to be called every nasty, degrading term for females and their anatomy by the liberal press. It is crude and repulsive, yet she's "Sarah Palin," hated by liberals and therefore, non-human. We see a different standard in effect when it comes to Sandra Fluke, who testified before Congress that women can pay more than $3,000 for contraception during three years of law school. She noted that her school, a Catholic institution, does not provide birth control coverage. In questioning why the government should be expected to pay for Ms. Fluke's recreational activities, Limbaugh crossed the line from sound argument into sexist insult. “What does it say about the college coed . . . who goes before a congressional committee and essentially says that she must be paid to have sex?” Mr. Limbaugh asked on his Wednesday program. He said this makes her a “slut” and “prostitute.” Apologies have since been made for his remarks, yet the uproar still continues. While I completely agree that it is positively ludicrous for anyone, male or female, to stand before Congress and say that it is too expensive for them to buy their own birth control - they want to have fun so someone else should pay for it for them - I completely disagree with his rude remarks. Ms. Fluke, if you want to screw around, pay for it yourself; Mr. Limbaugh, bite your tongue and show some common decency.
I would like to point out that Rush is far from alone in making rude and derogatory comments about females. Unfortunately, conservative women are fair game. Where was the outrage, the hue and outcry from females and liberals when these remarks were made? Apparently, Sarah Palin is less than human. The faithful wife of one man, who did not ever stand before Congress asking for her birth control to be paid for, has been called a bitch, a slut, a twat and other lovely terms while liberals have sat back and chuckled. Here is a small listing of the vile & reprehensible sexist comments made in the media about conservative women, Sarah Palin, included:
--Keith Olbermann calls Michelle Malkin a lipstick meatbag
http://www.mediaite.com/online/olbermann-calls-michelle-malkin-a-lipsticked-meatbag-malkin-responds/
--Left-wing Rolling Stone editor Matt Taibbi wrote on his blog in 2009, 'When I read [Malkin’s] stuff, I imagine her narrating her text, book-on-tape style, with a big, hairy set of balls in her mouth.'" Taibbi, in a profile of congresswoman and presidential candidate Michele Bachmann, called her “batshit crazy.”
-- Bill Maher calls Sarah Palin a “dumb t*at”
http://libertylog.org/?p=2367
---Ed Schulz calls Laura Ingraham a right-wing slut (He's also called Sarah Palin a "bimbo")
http://taylormarsh.com/blog/2011/05/ed-schultz-calls-laura-ingraham-a-right-wing-slut
--- Sandra Bernhard issues “gang rape” warning to Sarah Palin
http://www.nydailynews.com/gossip/sandra-bernhard-issues-gang-rape-warning-sarah-palin-article-1.321411
--Sly Sylvester (talk show host) said “…I had heard at one point Rebecca Kleefisch (Republican Lieutenant Governor of Wisconsin) pulled a train, but that must have been a different story I was reading about.”
http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=pull%20a%20train (just the definition of pulling train)
-- David Letterman calls Sarah Palin a slut
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vEvkOPidWkY
--Keith Olbermann implied that female conservative commentator S. E. Cupp should never have been born
http://www.examiner.com/conservative-in-spokane/keith-olbermann-implies-female-conservative-should-never-have-been-born
--Jimmy Fallon’s drummer played “Lyin' Ass Bit*ch” song during Michele Bachmann’s appearance on his show (ABC called it “quite the trick”)
http://abcnews.go.com/blogs/politics/2011/11/jimmy-fallons-drummer-grounded-for-bachmanns-bitch-song/
--Cloris Leachman calls Sarah Palin a slut on the Wendy Williams show
http://www.wendyshow.com/2011/01/04/cloris-leachman-sarah-palin/
If there is going to be all sorts of outrage, disgust and clamor over Limbaugh's asinine behavior, let's kick this double standard and be just as outraged and disgusted over the foul comments made about these Republican women.
I would like to point out that Rush is far from alone in making rude and derogatory comments about females. Unfortunately, conservative women are fair game. Where was the outrage, the hue and outcry from females and liberals when these remarks were made? Apparently, Sarah Palin is less than human. The faithful wife of one man, who did not ever stand before Congress asking for her birth control to be paid for, has been called a bitch, a slut, a twat and other lovely terms while liberals have sat back and chuckled. Here is a small listing of the vile & reprehensible sexist comments made in the media about conservative women, Sarah Palin, included:
--Keith Olbermann calls Michelle Malkin a lipstick meatbag
http://www.mediaite.com/online/olbermann-calls-michelle-malkin-a-lipsticked-meatbag-malkin-responds/
--Left-wing Rolling Stone editor Matt Taibbi wrote on his blog in 2009, 'When I read [Malkin’s] stuff, I imagine her narrating her text, book-on-tape style, with a big, hairy set of balls in her mouth.'" Taibbi, in a profile of congresswoman and presidential candidate Michele Bachmann, called her “batshit crazy.”
-- Bill Maher calls Sarah Palin a “dumb t*at”
http://libertylog.org/?p=2367
---Ed Schulz calls Laura Ingraham a right-wing slut (He's also called Sarah Palin a "bimbo")
http://taylormarsh.com/blog/2011/05/ed-schultz-calls-laura-ingraham-a-right-wing-slut
--- Sandra Bernhard issues “gang rape” warning to Sarah Palin
http://www.nydailynews.com/gossip/sandra-bernhard-issues-gang-rape-warning-sarah-palin-article-1.321411
--Sly Sylvester (talk show host) said “…I had heard at one point Rebecca Kleefisch (Republican Lieutenant Governor of Wisconsin) pulled a train, but that must have been a different story I was reading about.”
http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=pull%20a%20train (just the definition of pulling train)
-- David Letterman calls Sarah Palin a slut
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vEvkOPidWkY
--Keith Olbermann implied that female conservative commentator S. E. Cupp should never have been born
http://www.examiner.com/conservative-in-spokane/keith-olbermann-implies-female-conservative-should-never-have-been-born
--Jimmy Fallon’s drummer played “Lyin' Ass Bit*ch” song during Michele Bachmann’s appearance on his show (ABC called it “quite the trick”)
http://abcnews.go.com/blogs/politics/2011/11/jimmy-fallons-drummer-grounded-for-bachmanns-bitch-song/
--Cloris Leachman calls Sarah Palin a slut on the Wendy Williams show
http://www.wendyshow.com/2011/01/04/cloris-leachman-sarah-palin/
If there is going to be all sorts of outrage, disgust and clamor over Limbaugh's asinine behavior, let's kick this double standard and be just as outraged and disgusted over the foul comments made about these Republican women.
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
No Room for Christian Cliques
Years ago my friend, Diane, and I took our children to the kick-off meeting for a Christian homeschool group in south central Florida. It would be our first year homeschooling and our daughters were just kindergarten age. Games were being formed for the children of various ages so that they could get to know each other - kickball for the older kids and a game of duck-duck-goose for the younger. Diane and I happily brought our girls over to the duck-duck-goose circle, looking forward to watching our girls have some fun and play with the many children their age.
Four families that seemed to know each other well were there and were organizing the game. Their children already knew each other well and took seats near each other in the circle. (It turned out they all held positions of leadership at the same church). Our girls sat side by side, eager to be a part of the fun. It was not to be.
As the game progressed, it was apparent that the children who knew each other would only pick their friends. Over and over they kept picking from amongst themselves. The parents watching laughed and cheered them on. No regard was paid to our little girls or the few others that were new to the group. One of the children from those four families yelled, “Mommy, you play, too!” and with that two of the mothers joined the circle. We watched as these mothers also picked from amongst their own children. Kids were being picked, two, three, four, five times. The mothers were repeatedly being picked by the children. Not one of the adults running the game suggested that only children who hadn’t had a turn could be chosen so that everyone would have a chance to play. Needless to say we were shocked. Sorry to say, our dealings with this particular group of “Christian” homeschoolers never got much better.
When I was little my parents enforced various rules rather strictly. One of those rules was that you never went outside with a snack unless you had something to share with everyone. Another rule was that you never handed out birthday invitations in a group setting unless everyone present was being invited. You didn't make plans with one friend in front of another unless you were inviting that friend, too. My mother used to tell me, "The more, the merrier. You wouldn't want to be left behind, would you?" If you saw someone sitting alone, you were to make sure that person did not feel alone. You didn’t ditch one friend for another friend but made the situation inclusive, not exclusive. Do not, absolutely, do not leave anyone out. In short, you were to treat other people the way you wanted to be treated: “…thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself.” Leviticus 19:18
I’ve seen the bad behavior above many times over the years. Too often it was delivered at the hands of “Christian” children and parents. I had a friend who became very disillusioned when time after time, she tried to get her children involved in church activities – youth group, kids clubs, etc., only to have them left out, excluded not warmly welcomed into the fold. Mother and daughters alike were made to feel of no importance, not worth getting to know. It wasn't for wont of trying to be friendly. The mom eventually turned to rec league sports feeling that there was more actual kindness and exclusiveness. I have to add that her girls didn’t have six eyes or big green horns. They were sweet, pretty little girls and after years of this treatment, the mother and children developed a cynical attitude toward the church. A "friendly" church or group where the friendships are insular repels newcomers.
However, instead of illustrating only bad behaviors - it is important to recognize the good behavior as well. I have seen particular groups of believers who are not only loving and welcoming, but expect it of their offspring. I remember the welcome, the patience and the kindness extended to one girl who arrived to attend a weekly kids’ club. She was not an easy child but that group showed so much love to her. She didn’t a family willing to drive her places and so a few parents in the church took it upon themselves to make sure she had rides and did not miss the opportunities available to the other children. This child, who had been bullied at school for years, had new-found confidence. The efforts of parents and children who were taught to be inclusive gave her church kids who stuck by her at school – a support system. She was no longer alone and easy pickings. She was transformed.
In 1 Peter 5:8 the Bible teaches that the devil is on the prowl like a lion, seeking out someone to devour. Who is more vulnerable than those not protected by the group? It's the weak or the stragglers that are easy prey. As believers, we should be edifying one another. Walls crumble, not just from the battering onslaught of an enemy; walls crumble due to the erosion of neglect.
Friendliness is a gift. I like to think of my Uncle Gene who “Never Met a Stranger,” my friend’s father, John, and Pastor Rick, who never failed to make a person feel welcome. None of these men stopped at the first meet and greet with their welcoming – they made a point of always recognizing the people around them. I also think of youth pastor, Mark, who never allowed a child in his presence to feel left out. Even if a child stopped coming to youth group, he made it clear that that child was a person worthy of his continued care. He called. He went to games. The Bible says that “He who has friends must show himself friendly,” and it has been warming to know that there are those who recognize the shyness and uncertainty of others and take the first steps….and often the second and the third…in order to bring others into the fold, into a sense of unity and belonging.
We all need role models like this – and we should follow their lead. Being imperfect humans, we will fail. However, we need to correct ourselves. We need to look around, open our eyes to those around us. Is anyone sick? Lonely? Having a difficult time fitting in? There will be those people that it is harder to get to know or more difficult to understand. Many people are not outgoing or just simply feel awkward in social situations. Not everyone is a kindred spirit; yet everyone is of value. No amount of youth retreats, mission trips, etc. will teach this - and what good is it to teach ourselves or our children to reach out into the unknown, if it is second-nature to neglect those in our own circles? It is our responsibility to show kindness, compassion and welcome. Not pity – for it is we that are pitiable if we neglect the potential friends that God has placed in our path.
James 2:1 – 4 My brothers and sisters, believers in our glorious Lord Jesus Christ must not show favoritism. Suppose a man comes into your meeting wearing a gold ring and fine clothes, and a poor man in filthy old clothes also comes in. If you show special attention to the man wearing fine clothes and say, “Here’s a good seat for you,” but say to the poor man, “You stand there” or “Sit on the floor by my feet,” have you not discriminated among yourselves and become judges with evil thoughts?
1 Corinthians 10 Now I exhort you, brethren, by the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that you all agree and that there be no divisions among you, but that you be made complete in the same mind and in the same judgment.
Luke 10:27 You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself.
Romans 13:8 Owe no one anything, except to love one another; for the one who loves another has fulfilled the law.
Romans 13:10 Love does no wrong to a neighbor, therefore love is the fulfilling of the law.
Romans 12:13 Contribute to the needs of the saints; extend hospitality to strangers.
Hebrews 13: 1 Let mutual love continue. Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it.
Matthew 25: 35 I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me.
Matt. 25:40 Truly I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of my brethren you did it to me.
Four families that seemed to know each other well were there and were organizing the game. Their children already knew each other well and took seats near each other in the circle. (It turned out they all held positions of leadership at the same church). Our girls sat side by side, eager to be a part of the fun. It was not to be.
As the game progressed, it was apparent that the children who knew each other would only pick their friends. Over and over they kept picking from amongst themselves. The parents watching laughed and cheered them on. No regard was paid to our little girls or the few others that were new to the group. One of the children from those four families yelled, “Mommy, you play, too!” and with that two of the mothers joined the circle. We watched as these mothers also picked from amongst their own children. Kids were being picked, two, three, four, five times. The mothers were repeatedly being picked by the children. Not one of the adults running the game suggested that only children who hadn’t had a turn could be chosen so that everyone would have a chance to play. Needless to say we were shocked. Sorry to say, our dealings with this particular group of “Christian” homeschoolers never got much better.
When I was little my parents enforced various rules rather strictly. One of those rules was that you never went outside with a snack unless you had something to share with everyone. Another rule was that you never handed out birthday invitations in a group setting unless everyone present was being invited. You didn't make plans with one friend in front of another unless you were inviting that friend, too. My mother used to tell me, "The more, the merrier. You wouldn't want to be left behind, would you?" If you saw someone sitting alone, you were to make sure that person did not feel alone. You didn’t ditch one friend for another friend but made the situation inclusive, not exclusive. Do not, absolutely, do not leave anyone out. In short, you were to treat other people the way you wanted to be treated: “…thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself.” Leviticus 19:18
I’ve seen the bad behavior above many times over the years. Too often it was delivered at the hands of “Christian” children and parents. I had a friend who became very disillusioned when time after time, she tried to get her children involved in church activities – youth group, kids clubs, etc., only to have them left out, excluded not warmly welcomed into the fold. Mother and daughters alike were made to feel of no importance, not worth getting to know. It wasn't for wont of trying to be friendly. The mom eventually turned to rec league sports feeling that there was more actual kindness and exclusiveness. I have to add that her girls didn’t have six eyes or big green horns. They were sweet, pretty little girls and after years of this treatment, the mother and children developed a cynical attitude toward the church. A "friendly" church or group where the friendships are insular repels newcomers.
However, instead of illustrating only bad behaviors - it is important to recognize the good behavior as well. I have seen particular groups of believers who are not only loving and welcoming, but expect it of their offspring. I remember the welcome, the patience and the kindness extended to one girl who arrived to attend a weekly kids’ club. She was not an easy child but that group showed so much love to her. She didn’t a family willing to drive her places and so a few parents in the church took it upon themselves to make sure she had rides and did not miss the opportunities available to the other children. This child, who had been bullied at school for years, had new-found confidence. The efforts of parents and children who were taught to be inclusive gave her church kids who stuck by her at school – a support system. She was no longer alone and easy pickings. She was transformed.
In 1 Peter 5:8 the Bible teaches that the devil is on the prowl like a lion, seeking out someone to devour. Who is more vulnerable than those not protected by the group? It's the weak or the stragglers that are easy prey. As believers, we should be edifying one another. Walls crumble, not just from the battering onslaught of an enemy; walls crumble due to the erosion of neglect.
Friendliness is a gift. I like to think of my Uncle Gene who “Never Met a Stranger,” my friend’s father, John, and Pastor Rick, who never failed to make a person feel welcome. None of these men stopped at the first meet and greet with their welcoming – they made a point of always recognizing the people around them. I also think of youth pastor, Mark, who never allowed a child in his presence to feel left out. Even if a child stopped coming to youth group, he made it clear that that child was a person worthy of his continued care. He called. He went to games. The Bible says that “He who has friends must show himself friendly,” and it has been warming to know that there are those who recognize the shyness and uncertainty of others and take the first steps….and often the second and the third…in order to bring others into the fold, into a sense of unity and belonging.
We all need role models like this – and we should follow their lead. Being imperfect humans, we will fail. However, we need to correct ourselves. We need to look around, open our eyes to those around us. Is anyone sick? Lonely? Having a difficult time fitting in? There will be those people that it is harder to get to know or more difficult to understand. Many people are not outgoing or just simply feel awkward in social situations. Not everyone is a kindred spirit; yet everyone is of value. No amount of youth retreats, mission trips, etc. will teach this - and what good is it to teach ourselves or our children to reach out into the unknown, if it is second-nature to neglect those in our own circles? It is our responsibility to show kindness, compassion and welcome. Not pity – for it is we that are pitiable if we neglect the potential friends that God has placed in our path.
James 2:1 – 4 My brothers and sisters, believers in our glorious Lord Jesus Christ must not show favoritism. Suppose a man comes into your meeting wearing a gold ring and fine clothes, and a poor man in filthy old clothes also comes in. If you show special attention to the man wearing fine clothes and say, “Here’s a good seat for you,” but say to the poor man, “You stand there” or “Sit on the floor by my feet,” have you not discriminated among yourselves and become judges with evil thoughts?
1 Corinthians 10 Now I exhort you, brethren, by the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that you all agree and that there be no divisions among you, but that you be made complete in the same mind and in the same judgment.
Luke 10:27 You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself.
Romans 13:8 Owe no one anything, except to love one another; for the one who loves another has fulfilled the law.
Romans 13:10 Love does no wrong to a neighbor, therefore love is the fulfilling of the law.
Romans 12:13 Contribute to the needs of the saints; extend hospitality to strangers.
Hebrews 13: 1 Let mutual love continue. Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it.
Matthew 25: 35 I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me.
Matt. 25:40 Truly I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of my brethren you did it to me.
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Day 2 in Vibram FiveFingers
Yesterday Rhianna and I took our new Vibrams for a spin around our normal cemetery route. I was amazed by how different it felt to run with this barefooting feel. It seemed to "open up" my calves. My calves are notoriously tight and well, I don't have a problem with shape or muscle there. Running in these shoes made it feel like I was elongating everything. Also, it felt good the way the toes grip the ground.
I was anxious to see how this good feeling translated to cross-training so we wore them to Body Boot Camp. You get so used to the idea of shoes with shock absorption and cushioning that the thought of plyometrics without that is a little curious. Well, there is a lot to be said for no cushioning and shock absorption except the God-given kind. It was AWESOME. Rhianna was so impressed by how she felt - she said it made her feel like she could jump even higher (and that would be impressive, indeed, because she is like a Tigger). Plyometrics felt great; everything did. The balance benefits were noticeable immediately, but particularly with the single legged deadlifts. Also, they made all of the yoga stretching feel more natural.
It was as if someone had dropped off a black suitcase with a superhero suit (like in Greatest American Hero). We felt injected with energy. So torqued were we, that even after the 65 minute kick-butt class I had put together, we still felt like running. We head out for a 55 minute trail run, cell phone cams ready for the beautiful scenery. I got to experience stubbing my foot on a big root - almost wiped out - but it DID NOT hurt more than when I do it in standard running shoes. Rocks were no problem. Now there were some acorns on steroids that did feel uncomfortable, but I'm pretty sure they would have felt uncomfortable in any shoe. Running on the trails - which have experienced a bit of erosion since our last run there - gave our feet an amazing sensory buffet of different textures. Rocky ground, sandy ground, pine needles, grass, roots and clay, stubbly who-knows-what. Rhianna likened it to a massage. And hills - running up hills felt good. Actually good. Really! And I usually am not a fan of hills.
I can't imagine going back to regular Asics or Sauconys. The freedom to feel the ground beneath you like never before is just too wonderful. Then there is the way it seems makes all my muscles feel more fluid. The Vibram site talks about the biomechanical advantages of barefooting running...well, now I'm a believer.
And...I really don't mind if my feet look funny! Rhianna plans on getting a pair of hot pink ones for in the gym. I wouldn't mind going with grey or khaki.
I was anxious to see how this good feeling translated to cross-training so we wore them to Body Boot Camp. You get so used to the idea of shoes with shock absorption and cushioning that the thought of plyometrics without that is a little curious. Well, there is a lot to be said for no cushioning and shock absorption except the God-given kind. It was AWESOME. Rhianna was so impressed by how she felt - she said it made her feel like she could jump even higher (and that would be impressive, indeed, because she is like a Tigger). Plyometrics felt great; everything did. The balance benefits were noticeable immediately, but particularly with the single legged deadlifts. Also, they made all of the yoga stretching feel more natural.
It was as if someone had dropped off a black suitcase with a superhero suit (like in Greatest American Hero). We felt injected with energy. So torqued were we, that even after the 65 minute kick-butt class I had put together, we still felt like running. We head out for a 55 minute trail run, cell phone cams ready for the beautiful scenery. I got to experience stubbing my foot on a big root - almost wiped out - but it DID NOT hurt more than when I do it in standard running shoes. Rocks were no problem. Now there were some acorns on steroids that did feel uncomfortable, but I'm pretty sure they would have felt uncomfortable in any shoe. Running on the trails - which have experienced a bit of erosion since our last run there - gave our feet an amazing sensory buffet of different textures. Rocky ground, sandy ground, pine needles, grass, roots and clay, stubbly who-knows-what. Rhianna likened it to a massage. And hills - running up hills felt good. Actually good. Really! And I usually am not a fan of hills.
I can't imagine going back to regular Asics or Sauconys. The freedom to feel the ground beneath you like never before is just too wonderful. Then there is the way it seems makes all my muscles feel more fluid. The Vibram site talks about the biomechanical advantages of barefooting running...well, now I'm a believer.
And...I really don't mind if my feet look funny! Rhianna plans on getting a pair of hot pink ones for in the gym. I wouldn't mind going with grey or khaki.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Obsessed or Dedicated?
Obsessed or Committed?
“Probably millions of Americans got up this morning with a cup of coffee, a cigarette and a donut. No wonder they are sick and fouled up.” Jack LaLanne
I saw a great quote a few weeks back: “Obsessed is just a word the lazy use to describe the dedicated.” As a fitness enthusiast I have been called obsessed to my face a few times and I’m sure behind my back many more. Other fitness fanatics that I know have received the same scorn from those firmly planted on the couch. The above quote explains in a nutshell just how I feel about the label.
The dictionary definition of obsessed reads:
–verb (used with object)
1. to dominate or preoccupy the thoughts, feelings, or desires of (a person); beset, trouble, or haunt persistently or abnormally: Suspicion obsessed him.
–verb (used without object)
2. to think about something unceasingly or persistently; dwell obsessively upon something.
The connotation is negative. However, the definition for “dedicated” is quite positive.
–adjective
1. wholly committed to something, as to an ideal, political cause, or personal goal: a dedicated artist.
2. set apart or reserved for a specific use or purpose: We don't need a computer but a dedicated word processor.
Michelangelo said it well when he stated, “The great danger for most of us is not that our aim is too high and we miss it, but that it is too low and we reach it.”
Ever since I can remember I loved the feeling of movement. The wind in my face, the spring in my step, the stretch of a limb. As a young girl I was always flipping around on gymnastic mats, running around the block, swirling around on a frozen pond. One of my earliest memories is of watching Jack LaLanne and his exercise show, I had pulled up a chair and was following along doing chair squats along with Jack. I think I was age 3 at the time. My friend, Michele, and I spent hours creating gymnastic routines so we could do what Nadia and Olga before her had done. On the pond, we were Dorothy Hamil and Peggy Fleming. My parents never supported me doing any school athletics; although in elementary school I was in rec league softball. However, I read all the fitness tips in Glamour and Mademoiselle and after the high school day was done, Michele and I walked and we ran together. As a teenager I discovered yoga and then at age 17, aerobics. Around that time I also purchased my first copy of Runner’s World and quietly dreamed of running a marathon someday. By age 18 and 19, I had discovered Rachel McLish and “Flex Appeal,” Gladys Portugues’ “Hard Bodies.” I was hooked.
At that time I was working at a Department of Defense facility outside my hometown. There I had my first experience pumping iron. I loved the gym facility and happily got up extra early to start my day lifting and running. I would hit the gym for some weight training and then run around the back roads that were encased in the Army facility. A quick shower, a long time blow drying and off to my office. It was wonderful and I *felt* wonderful.
Eventually, I moved away and to another state – New Mexico. There I hiked and walked, did body weight exercises at home. The money wasn’t flowing freely and there was no affording a health club. When I moved to FL just after the birth of my first child I availed myself of the sunny weather to walk and run some more…and it was there that I discovered step aerobics. I especially loved the dance step videos created by Victoria Johnson. She was an inspiration!
Three children came along and I still worked out in whatever way I could. Walking – a lot, step aerobics, light weights. Fitness was a part of my life and never left. It was as much a part of me as were my hazel eyes.
Sometime around 1999 I discovered Oxygen fitness magazine and Muscle & Fitness Hers. Gone were the magazines I considered “fluffy.” This was *real* meat and potatoes fitness advice. Bill Philips published “Body for Life” and it seemed the world was learning how to pump iron. I wanted badly to get back to the lifting days and around that time we bought a Weider home gym and some free weights.
Time passed and I joined a gym, I began to run in 5K races with my friend, Julie. I was never Speedy Gonzales, but if the turnout for my age group was low I sometimes ended up with an age group award. I didn’t matter – I did for the T-shirt and for the sheer joy of movement and fellowship with others who enjoyed it the way I did. I ran a 10K, then a 15K and eventually I ran that marathon I always dreamed about.
There were definitely trials and tribulations along the way. I suffered from Graves’ disease in 1996 and that slammed me back a bit. When training for the marathon, I *gained* weight and found that my thyroid had gone the other way – hypo. I had to go through the whole slow, arduous process of getting my thyroid back in order (and that is another story entirely)…but I kept at it. Even when my legs felt like they were made of wood, I ran. I lifted. I moved....and it helped me.
I’ve explained how fitness was such a part of my life – and at first glance you might say, “Okay, so maybe she IS obsessed with it.” BUT hold your horses! During that time my life was full of so many other things – fitness was just a part, a dearly loved part, but not the whole. During those years, I worked, I had babies, I taught Sunday school, children’s church, AWANA club – I wrote poems, published a few articles, homeschooled my children, taught Shakespeare appreciation from a Christian perspective, became an outreach childbirth educator, volunteered for a presidential campaign…I had a very rich life, a life of many facets.
And here’s where I make my stand take issue with “obsessed” and say a resounding “NO!” to that misnomer and “YES!” to the adjective of choice, DEDICATED.
Through thick and thin, ups and downs, busy seasons, dry seasons, regardless of what was going on in my life – I made fitness and movement a PRIORITY. As necessary to my life as the air I breathe, I made a commitment to serving my body well, with doing my utmost best to take care of my physical health. I’d been to the scary side of disease and had been forced to lay low after surgeries and thyrotoxicosis. I knew my body wanted to be well and to function at its best, so I fought back for fitness and health.
My hero, Jack LaLanne said this, “By exercise. I'll tell you one thing, you don't always have to be on the go. I sit around a lot, I read a lot, and I do watch television. But I also work out for two hours every day of my life, even when I'm on the road.” It’s not an obsession – it’s a dedicated part of each day. It’s about DISCIPLINE. Accountability to the only body you have, to take care of it and help it to function at it’s best.
Another quote from Jack, “I do it as a therapy. I do it as something to keep me alive. We all need a little discipline. Exercise is my discipline.”
Isn’t that the truth? Discipline is not a popular concept nowadays, but I believe we need it just as much as ever – if not more. I’m glad I have it – that discipline that allows me to keep a regular exercise program also serves me in other areas. It helps me to do what needs to be done, it helps me to be organized and productive. It just plain helps (and that is another blog, as well).
To the folks that have called me obsessed, I’m sorry for you. I’m sorry that you haven’t discovered the joy of purpose and of a healthy habit. I’m sorry that you are blind to the difference between obsession and commitment – oh, that you would receive your sight! It’s my wish for you that you find the exuberance of movement and you work to make it a regular part of your life. I hope that you are never satisfied with just the status quo, but that you find the exhilaration that comes from pushing harder, going further, doing more. May you find peace, love and fitness.
“Probably millions of Americans got up this morning with a cup of coffee, a cigarette and a donut. No wonder they are sick and fouled up.” Jack LaLanne
I saw a great quote a few weeks back: “Obsessed is just a word the lazy use to describe the dedicated.” As a fitness enthusiast I have been called obsessed to my face a few times and I’m sure behind my back many more. Other fitness fanatics that I know have received the same scorn from those firmly planted on the couch. The above quote explains in a nutshell just how I feel about the label.
The dictionary definition of obsessed reads:
–verb (used with object)
1. to dominate or preoccupy the thoughts, feelings, or desires of (a person); beset, trouble, or haunt persistently or abnormally: Suspicion obsessed him.
–verb (used without object)
2. to think about something unceasingly or persistently; dwell obsessively upon something.
The connotation is negative. However, the definition for “dedicated” is quite positive.
–adjective
1. wholly committed to something, as to an ideal, political cause, or personal goal: a dedicated artist.
2. set apart or reserved for a specific use or purpose: We don't need a computer but a dedicated word processor.
Michelangelo said it well when he stated, “The great danger for most of us is not that our aim is too high and we miss it, but that it is too low and we reach it.”
Ever since I can remember I loved the feeling of movement. The wind in my face, the spring in my step, the stretch of a limb. As a young girl I was always flipping around on gymnastic mats, running around the block, swirling around on a frozen pond. One of my earliest memories is of watching Jack LaLanne and his exercise show, I had pulled up a chair and was following along doing chair squats along with Jack. I think I was age 3 at the time. My friend, Michele, and I spent hours creating gymnastic routines so we could do what Nadia and Olga before her had done. On the pond, we were Dorothy Hamil and Peggy Fleming. My parents never supported me doing any school athletics; although in elementary school I was in rec league softball. However, I read all the fitness tips in Glamour and Mademoiselle and after the high school day was done, Michele and I walked and we ran together. As a teenager I discovered yoga and then at age 17, aerobics. Around that time I also purchased my first copy of Runner’s World and quietly dreamed of running a marathon someday. By age 18 and 19, I had discovered Rachel McLish and “Flex Appeal,” Gladys Portugues’ “Hard Bodies.” I was hooked.
At that time I was working at a Department of Defense facility outside my hometown. There I had my first experience pumping iron. I loved the gym facility and happily got up extra early to start my day lifting and running. I would hit the gym for some weight training and then run around the back roads that were encased in the Army facility. A quick shower, a long time blow drying and off to my office. It was wonderful and I *felt* wonderful.
Eventually, I moved away and to another state – New Mexico. There I hiked and walked, did body weight exercises at home. The money wasn’t flowing freely and there was no affording a health club. When I moved to FL just after the birth of my first child I availed myself of the sunny weather to walk and run some more…and it was there that I discovered step aerobics. I especially loved the dance step videos created by Victoria Johnson. She was an inspiration!
Three children came along and I still worked out in whatever way I could. Walking – a lot, step aerobics, light weights. Fitness was a part of my life and never left. It was as much a part of me as were my hazel eyes.
Sometime around 1999 I discovered Oxygen fitness magazine and Muscle & Fitness Hers. Gone were the magazines I considered “fluffy.” This was *real* meat and potatoes fitness advice. Bill Philips published “Body for Life” and it seemed the world was learning how to pump iron. I wanted badly to get back to the lifting days and around that time we bought a Weider home gym and some free weights.
Time passed and I joined a gym, I began to run in 5K races with my friend, Julie. I was never Speedy Gonzales, but if the turnout for my age group was low I sometimes ended up with an age group award. I didn’t matter – I did for the T-shirt and for the sheer joy of movement and fellowship with others who enjoyed it the way I did. I ran a 10K, then a 15K and eventually I ran that marathon I always dreamed about.
There were definitely trials and tribulations along the way. I suffered from Graves’ disease in 1996 and that slammed me back a bit. When training for the marathon, I *gained* weight and found that my thyroid had gone the other way – hypo. I had to go through the whole slow, arduous process of getting my thyroid back in order (and that is another story entirely)…but I kept at it. Even when my legs felt like they were made of wood, I ran. I lifted. I moved....and it helped me.
I’ve explained how fitness was such a part of my life – and at first glance you might say, “Okay, so maybe she IS obsessed with it.” BUT hold your horses! During that time my life was full of so many other things – fitness was just a part, a dearly loved part, but not the whole. During those years, I worked, I had babies, I taught Sunday school, children’s church, AWANA club – I wrote poems, published a few articles, homeschooled my children, taught Shakespeare appreciation from a Christian perspective, became an outreach childbirth educator, volunteered for a presidential campaign…I had a very rich life, a life of many facets.
And here’s where I make my stand take issue with “obsessed” and say a resounding “NO!” to that misnomer and “YES!” to the adjective of choice, DEDICATED.
Through thick and thin, ups and downs, busy seasons, dry seasons, regardless of what was going on in my life – I made fitness and movement a PRIORITY. As necessary to my life as the air I breathe, I made a commitment to serving my body well, with doing my utmost best to take care of my physical health. I’d been to the scary side of disease and had been forced to lay low after surgeries and thyrotoxicosis. I knew my body wanted to be well and to function at its best, so I fought back for fitness and health.
My hero, Jack LaLanne said this, “By exercise. I'll tell you one thing, you don't always have to be on the go. I sit around a lot, I read a lot, and I do watch television. But I also work out for two hours every day of my life, even when I'm on the road.” It’s not an obsession – it’s a dedicated part of each day. It’s about DISCIPLINE. Accountability to the only body you have, to take care of it and help it to function at it’s best.
Another quote from Jack, “I do it as a therapy. I do it as something to keep me alive. We all need a little discipline. Exercise is my discipline.”
Isn’t that the truth? Discipline is not a popular concept nowadays, but I believe we need it just as much as ever – if not more. I’m glad I have it – that discipline that allows me to keep a regular exercise program also serves me in other areas. It helps me to do what needs to be done, it helps me to be organized and productive. It just plain helps (and that is another blog, as well).
To the folks that have called me obsessed, I’m sorry for you. I’m sorry that you haven’t discovered the joy of purpose and of a healthy habit. I’m sorry that you are blind to the difference between obsession and commitment – oh, that you would receive your sight! It’s my wish for you that you find the exuberance of movement and you work to make it a regular part of your life. I hope that you are never satisfied with just the status quo, but that you find the exhilaration that comes from pushing harder, going further, doing more. May you find peace, love and fitness.
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