when your body's in trouble blah blah TMI TMI blah blah, ginger

A light went on yesterday. It was the light of Oh, I see. I get it. Wow, this is different. The light of This isn't gonna be as easy as I thought. The Welcome to your Body, Mid-life light.

For some strange reason, I kind of thought I was gonna skate into (and through) the menopausal interlude without an issue. Perhaps this comes from not really identifying as feminine, and therefore disqualifying myself from usual female issues. This has, for the most part, been my story. Easy periods, predictable, and thanks to Chinese herbs, mostly free of PMS. And then, about 8 months ago, things changed a bit. Things still come and go with relative ease, but my clockwork 28 days turned into 21 or 23 or 24. Things got lighter and brighter and didn't last so long. (ding!)

Whiskers. Can we talk whiskers? I used to think it was from having my face out in the cold. The fuzz is fuzzier, the chin-sprouts more frequent. Still not a ton, but they come more often. And those blonde little catfish whiskers drive me nuts. (ding!)

I can live with all of the above. But the thing that's driving me nuts is the weight. The lingering weight. The gaining weight despite my best efforts. The exercising and gaining. It's entirely possible that it's all hormonal. So I'm looking into my herbal options, and I'm working through the bit where I have to admit to myself that the old 60 minutes of cardio 5 days a week may have to turn into 90 minutes of cardio 7 days a week. Or something. I'm still working through judgments on all of this-- as I move away from all of that I see it as simple facts: my body needs what it needs. If it wants to store fat, and I have lots of fat cells available to it (remember: I was well over 200 pounds as a 13 year old, and fat cells never die), this will be a struggle. I want to honor my body's needs, but right now, there's a conflict between the hormonal hankerings and the need to maintain a healthy weight.

And that's where I am. The perspective has deepened. I act accordingly.

oh my lucky stars

We got a foot of snow here yesterday. For some, this is just an inconvenience and annoyance. For me, it's like magic. I don't care that it took me an hour to dig my car out this morning...heck, it's a great work out...or that the roads are sheets of ice covered by layer after layer of wet snow. I drive slow, unlike some of my Colorado bretheren who think owning an SUV means you can drive as fast as you want in any kind of weather. My co-worker almost got caught in a pile-up on the highway because of one such idiot driver; three 360 degree spins right in front of said co-worker after idiot sped past him and then hit a patch of ice. Smart, these western drivers. They obviously didn't grow up in REAL snow.

Tonight my wife returns from her great Danish adventure. She is now in LOVE with Denmark: the people, the food, the culture, the weather (fickle, like Colorado, but with a sea out your door instead of mountains). From the sounds of it, she consumed a pound of butter and loaves of bread, and lots of soup. Her sister, who met S. there, was a fan of the herring. AH my people and their food!

And speaking of food...I did pretty well while my haus frau wiffy was away. I ate well, cooked often (instead of grabbing thai take out every night, which has been my tendency in the past) and eshewed alkeehall for the most part. The house does not look like a bachelor has been living there and entertaining every night. I got a fair amount of exercise, not including this mornings shovel workout. My forearms are sore! Hoisting pile after pile of wet snow must be some of the best resistance training on the planet.

I didn't fall into a depression in S's absence. This has not always been the case. My friends checked in on me often, which was very thoughtful. I watched many movies, including Rachel Getting Married, which I loved, but also knocked me for an emotional loop. Jonathan Demme nails it once again. The live score was brilliant, and the script--written by Sidney Lumet's daughter--is sharp, full of keen observations and great dialogue.

And if you're so interested, the coming-of-age lesbo film Itty Bitty Titty Committee is worth a watch, if only for the exploding phallus that is the Washington Monument.

a wee bit o' gratitude

Yesterday afternoon I rode to the sculpture park to greet L and bike home with her. She was genuinely surprised and happy to see me, and we had a fun pedal home. Later, as I was fixing dinner (bean tacos w/ arugula), I realized how blessed I am that I can get on a bike, (get off the bike and briskly walk it across the locks, then get back on and) pedal with some vigor, do it for an hour, round trip (12 mile jaunt), and have fun. I've worked hard to stay in shape, to keep at the exercise, and far more seems possible from this space I now inhabit.

I am thankful. Very thankful.

the same ol' bike and trance

I'm sick of the rain so I'm dragging my ass (spandexed, even) out for a ride for the sake of riding. The spandex is a kind of insurance policy against doing errands.

Here I go, dammit!

cancelling the gym membership

I've got my hands in too many pots lately. My blog for the newspaper has received some attention; I was made a "featured blogger" and so far three of my pieces have found their way to the print edition of Your Hub, out on Thursdays. The editors hack the work to death, of course, since they have to in order to make the words fit (damned column inches!) but I accept their edits in exchange for the exposure. Mostly I write about my 'hood here in Denver, but occasionally I make forays out into other subjects, like race relations and local politics.

Today is a banner day, however. Today I am cancelling my gym membership. It's time. No longer can I afford to pay $70 a month for use of a gym I do not use more than 5x in that month, nor can I keep my personal locker in the Gold Club locker room, where no one is ever in there and I can walk around naked to my heart's content and I can get free lotion and sanitary products and Q-tips...and iron my clothes while watching t.v. It was fun while it lasted but it's time to wrench this security blanket from myself, like Linus releasing his tattered scrap of blue, and find another way.

Little by little, we've been clearing the basement. This past weekend we hauled all of our old electronic equipment to a (responsible) e-recycling center. We've cleared out three huge old boxes that we'd been storing for a friend for 8 (yes 8) years, and S. is working on plans for an enclosed cabinet where we can keep towels and washclothes and sheets...as it is, they're on open shelving by the washer and dryer, and after awhile, you have to wash them all over again because they get dusty and grimy. S. wants a recumbant bike; I want an elliptical. In the meantime, we're clearing out a space for our exercise ball and weights; I'm going to invest in some interlocking mats, kinda like fatigue mats in a restaurant kitchen, so we can gae a soft surface for stretching and the like. I'd also like to create a little meditation/yoga space down there, complete with a simple altar. If I can manage just 10 minutes a day of quiet contemplation, I think I'll be more capable of continuing my lifelong quest for true BALANCE.

So right now, right this second, I'm getting up and walking over to the gym. I've needed to do this for months, but kept putting it off, thinking "no, I'll go..." but I don't think that's where I am meant to be. Yoga, walking, hiking, biking, gardening...getting back with my trainer in her new studio...moving my body in new ways. That is what I need right now. I've got the momentum and S. and I are staying the WW course together. She's really working the program, and it's hard as hell for her, as she's concurrently dealing with body issues as they come up. I could not be more supportive of her, or more proud, though I wish there was another word for "proud"--it's not a maternal pride that I feel, or one laced with condescension, but rather this kind of awe at the hard work she's doing, and a newfound respect for her as a person who is continually changing and growing and trusting herself enough to risk...not falling back on the same patterns, not blaming it on not smoking, or genes, or depression. She's just taking it all one step at a time, and I've got her back and she's got mine. Forever.

But today, for me, it's about letting go of that security blanket. I'm posting this, and then I'm going to the gym. Without my gym bag.