My Breakfast, My Blessing

Each morning I wake up. Regardless of whether I slept well or slept poorly, no matter if my covers are scattered over the floor or in the same place as when I drifted off the night before, and whether or not I jump up at the sound of Here Comes the Sun or pretend that it doesn’t exist, I wake up with one goal in mind. Get myself some breakfast.

Without fail I joyfully eat breakfast each and every morning. I would not be alive if not for Cheerios and SKIM milk (anything other than skim just seems yucky), though I’ve been known to branch out in favor of fruit, toast, oatmeal, or eggs of the scrambled variety. Sometimes I prepare it simply in my dorm room, other times I’ll mozy on over to the diner, and occasionally I’ll have the kitchen in my home to work with.

cereal smiling

But it truly doesn’t matter where or what I eat, just as long as I can refuel myself in the morning and give myself the energy and positivity that is often the true prize from that box of Cheerios.

And if I have to wake up an extra 10 minutes earlier to ensure that I get my morning off to a happy and healthy start and I’m not a grump-a-lump for the whole day, why that’s no trouble at all.

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A Happy Healthy Challenge

Even at first glance, there are two things about me that are quite obvious.

  1. I enjoy eating
  2. I don’t particularly enjoy that I enjoy eating

My Pail List and mental wish list and list taped to my wall and to-do list have long held the goal of me losing weight. Throughout my childhood and for many years I was under the impression that I needed to lose weight to conform to a certain ideal, and while I still have the desire to lose some of my puppy fat (though my puppy may have grown into a fully sized dog by now), I’ve come to recognize that I should focus first and foremost on fitness and health.

But when my unnatural love of peanut butter coincides with cold months and a lack of willpower, I find myself suddenly starring down at the Papa John’s menu more often than at my Zumba DVDs.

30 day challengeMy other blog (yes, I’m openly cheating), Happiness Through Health, is going to see me attempt to create a 30 Day Challenge revolving around losing weight, logging exercise hours, and blogging out our feelings for fabulous gifts and prizes (well, two averagely exciting prizes for the winner and runner up).

If you’re interested in joining me as I find a way to still enjoy pumpkin pie and cranberry sauce and stuffing in the midst of this challenge, just head over to the original post and mention that you’re interested. Bonus points if you provide a guilt-free pumpkin pie recipe or talk me out of this idea and just let me turn myself orange from pumpkin consumption.

How to Assemble a Grill

Firstly, let me offer you my sincerest congratulations for getting to this point. After days of searching online and creating what is sure to be a permanent indentation in the couch cushions, after hours of checking shipping updates until you could recite your order confirmation number from memory, after countless time spent wiping drool off of your lower lip at the mere thought of this heavenly gift, it has arrived. The Weber 22 ½ -inch One Touch Silver Grill.

weber grill

Standing in the doorway of your home, looking at your bundle of joy sitting neatly wrapped up at the end of the driveway, it’s understandable that your eyes begin to tear up as if the grill could already be creating a smoky atmosphere from within the confines of its box. There is nothing separating you from untold happiness besides some feeble packaging and a bit of assembly.

And yet, there seems to be a purity that the white cardboard box seems to convey. A sense of delicacy that dictates this box be opened with the gentleness and caressing care of a lover. More than willing to oblige, it seems natural to run your hands over the One Touch description, shivering as you read of its porcelain enameled bowl and lid. However, your hands dare not touch the Weber logo; there are still things in this world too sacred to suffer such defilement from mere common folk.

But now, it is time. Gently picking up the sides of the box, you shuffle to the backyard as to allow yourself a more intimate setting when bringing life into this world. Instinctively, it seems quite obvious to grasp the top of the lid and slide your fingers underneath the binding tape (tape which you may want to save for scrapbooking purposes). The lid opens effortlessly. Styrofoam packaging next greets your sight, but its job is no longer needed; you are now the guardian of the grill. There seems to be more tape placed onto the actual grill itself, containing certain parts and pieces for later assembly. The secret to life, the universe, and everything is not as heavily defended as this grill, and rightfully so.

The directions are placed neatly on top. But this process is your birthright. No instructions necessary. The only decision you have to make is whether to trash or recycle this worthless pile of paper. And seeing as the recycling bin is much longer of a walk, and therefore would mean much longer time spent away from your Precious, it is perfectly acceptable to carelessly chuck that once great beauty of a tree into the garbage can.

I’m aware that by now you’re starting to worry about how much effort and energy you’ve sunk into this project. You’ve already missed your 11 o’clock showing of The Price is Right; what if they were playing Plinko today?! But you just need to keep going, because I know you can do this, I know you’ve been working your whole life to arrive at this point, I know that you can give it at the very least, 80%. I understand that your desire may be beginning to wane just a tad, but I can assure you that the Southern Smokehouse Burger, as shown in the complimentary Weber cookbook, is indeed as mouthwatering as it appears.

southern smokehouse burger

Enthusiasm sufficiently renewed? I thought so.

Already removed the nuts and bolts from the box? That’s 80% worth of effort if I’ve ever seen it! Now look how they’re all scattered throughout the grass; look how in tune with nature we are today. Finally seeing the light of sun, the promise of greasy goodness to come, and now we’ve taken a comfortable seat on the ground to search for those screws, our hard work is most definitely paying off and soon we’ll be enjoying the finer things in life.

But as you prod and poke at the metal frame, the aluminum vents and ash catcher, the glass reinforced nylon handles, you may begin to notice the distinct change of sunlight. Despite the copious amounts of free time in your possession, you now reach the cardio section of the program, as with renewed vigor, bolts are beaten in and screws and screwed into place before the light disappears (Note: It may be more effective, in the retelling of this harrowing feat if you were to search the Internet for some real construction phrases). Despite the time taken to puzzle over the involvement of extra bolts and question why any sane human being would design a black grill with black screws, you come to the conclusion that good things are worth waiting and working for. And the memory of that Southern Smokehouse Burger sure is a good thing. With hunger and a gluttonous desire to drive you forward, the grill will begin to resemble something that you could actually use while cooking.

Once the grill comes together in a manner not entirely unlike the diagram in the instructions booklet, with a faint marking on the side that is slightly resembles Jesus Christ, comes the most important part of assembly: the test phase. I know you’ve really worked up an appetite by moving that arm back and forth while screwing in some of those pieces. And the fact that you had to miss lunch is now probably starting to catch up with you. Believe me, I understand the effort required in sitting down in the lukewarm sunlight while debating which cut of beef you’d like to allow to first grace the fruits of your labor (not that a fruit would get within 10 yards of your Precious). You’ve really worked up quite an appetite, and it’s time that that appetite was rewarded with what your doctor has frequently and loving referred to as “heart attack inducing bundles of grease and fats yet unbeknownst to man”.

As you hurry back into the house to grab that classic hamburger patty (an old favorite deserving this ceremony of honor), be careful not to trip over that Groupon-bought elliptical that’s still lurking in its battered box in the hallway. You’ll really need to open that box on a day when you have enough free time to find that pair of scissors…

battered elliptical

From Bucket List to Daily Gift

One day I got it in my head that I would like to run an official race before I eventually and inevitably kicked the bucket. While I had always had a rocky roady relationship with running, I was unsure where this decision would lead me and was faced with the real possibility that my Pail List would contain an item that I may never cross off.

DSCN0843Yet, earlier this summer, I did indeed get to cross off “run an official race” after completing the Baltimore Women’s Classic 5K in Maryland. Despite twisting my ankle a bit I came out of the race with the feeling of glowing accomplishment and a decent time of a bit after 36 minutes.

And then I kept running.

And I compiled a workout playlist

And I bought nice shoes.

And I printed more training schedules.

And I felt good about myself.

And I learned the words to Mambo No. 5

And I kept running.

Just today I ran a 5K at the University of Maryland. My time hovered between 29:30 and 32:30 minutes. I ran the whole entire way. I smiled throughout the hills. I laughed at the twists and turns. I high-fived the volunteers. I had a beautiful time.

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I am so grateful for having comprised a pail list. Had I not had the courage to acknowledge what I wanted to get out of life, I would never have pushed myself as hard as I did, and I never would have discovered my love of running. Yes running, I can say it now! I love you! And it all started back when I began my first training plan and discovered my love of the treadmill with a well timed episode of Say Yes to the Dress and the rolling and gentle hills of my neighborhood and the springy track at school which makes me feel as graceful as a gazelle despite looking like an awkward antelope.

Though singing karaoke will probably not lead to me becoming a world famous singing sensation, I am quite satisfied knowing that I’ve chosen to explore such different and fulfilling areas of life with the activities/events/circumstances that preside on my Pail List.

For me, life isn’t always about having momentary bouts of fun, it’s about living each day pleasurably with a contentment that provides a sustainable happiness. That’s why I have my Pail List, and that’s why I’m grateful for my list leading me to more of life’s pleasurable moments.

Our Daily Torture

Could you even imagine being enclosed in a space so small that there is hardly any room for you to turn around, let alone move. You wonder what could have happened to bring you to this terrifying enclosure of slick and sickly walls. Then, before an explanation can even enter your head half-formed, water comes cascading down from above, so hot that you instinctively jump away, though there’s no where for you to escape the bombardment of fierce droplets as your skin threatens to blister. And suddenly, as if the box’s true torturous purpose was revealed, the water turns ice cold, practically forming into shards that bite and anger the already delicate skin. An impulsive glance downward in an effort to lessen the anticipated facial mutilation reveals that you are stark naked. Vulnerable. Unprotected. Unsheltered. Unmasked and unveiled. You shutter recognizing that your feet are bare to the mysterious substances ever-present in this torturous chamber. The water continues to pour down in icy sheets from above with a vengeance that a furred Poseidon would be in no position to summon. And if your reddened and raw skin weren’t suffering enough, a bristly device is applied to every inch of your exposed self. Pressing, pushing, scratching, scolding. Back and forth the fibers now begin to remove layers of skin with the help of colorfully applied chemicals that have forever ingrained their distinct odor into your very being. As your body begins to shed its abused skin, you don’t even shed a tear. You have no choice but to remain upright and unaffected, or suffer the well-documented fear of ridicule and social expulsion. Just as you begin to think of escaping from this house of horrors, breaking free from this place of pain and site of suffering, when it almost becomes too much to even keep your eyes open through the torrential downpour that is now this never ceasing stream of water that will surely continue rising until your lungs are as exposed to its presence as your outer body, once your knees begin to weaken and your strength is nearly sapped from the tremendous endurance and strength that you have shown in the face of an unknown adversary that may just prove to be Satan himself-

You step out of the shower, and it’s back to reality.

The Early Bird Gets the Sleep

I go to college. I hang with friends. I get homework done. I go to clubs and events. And I get a full eight hours of sleep each and every night.

garfield sleeping

Garfield really represents a lot of my interests

I’ve often felt that I need three things out of life:

  1. A complete and completely delicious breakfast.
  2. My cat and a camera with which to take pictures of my cat.
  3. Enough sleep.

No matter what it is that I’m working on that day, I always find time to get the necessities out of the way so that when it comes to bedtime around 11 pm (outlandishly early for a rockin’ college kid, I know), I’m free to hit the hay and end the day. Some people can go on three hours of power naps, a can of Red Bull, and the sheer desire to outsmart mother nature. I am not that person. I am the person who cozies up in bed with bright tie dye covers and a pillow as fluffy as the cats I envision jumping over a fence.

While I may miss out on some parties, I never feel as though I’m missing out on a crucial college experience, as I plan my life in the daylight hours. Pretty revolutionary, right?

Yes, I go to bed early, but the relaxation and happiness that I’m granted as a result of my delightful night’s sleep is worth ten times as much as the drunken stories of arrest and evasion that most kids have to show for their early morning hours.

A Pescetarian Proposition

I don’t have any qualms about smushing a spider if it sneaks up on me in the house, but on the whole I’d say that I was an animal lover. I actually think that you’d be hard pressed to find someone who isn’t, what with puggles (an adorable mix between a pug and beagle) gracing the world with their cuteness.

puggle

Just recently, it was pointed out to me in a randomly life-altering article that if you wouldn’t eat your cat, why eat a chicken, or a pig, or a cow. What makes the life of a pig so different from that of a cat? Pigs are just as personable, fairly intelligent, and their oinks sound just as adorable as a soft little meow. I know that this may seems silly to some, as the differences are abundantly clear to a good portion of the population, but for me, this realization was devastating. In one brief comment, I saw that all animals lives (except perhaps spiders) were worth the exact same and were worthy of the exact same protection.

cute animals

I don’t really eat a lot of meat to begin with. I once went 2 years without eating pork, I don’t have a taste for steak, I enjoy veggie burgers, and chicken is simply an addition to many meals that can be substituted out.  For me, becoming a vegetarian would be fairly easy (though more challenging once I return to UMD). Fish/seafood, however, is not something that I could see myself giving up, both due to the particular way my mouth waters when I see it, and its nutrient content.

When it comes down to it, there are tons of reasons WHY becoming a pescetarian would suit my lifestyle:

  • Because it’s healthier
  • Because it increases energy levels
  • Because it saves money
  • Because it’s better for the planet
  • Because it’s an easy transition for me
  • Because all animals deserve to be treated humanely

But mostly, it’s the fact that if we hadn’t domesticated certain animals, they could be on our menu too. And I just couldn’t bear the thought of someone eating my cat instead of brushing her fur.

cat vs. chick

Animals are not food. They are animals. And as animals, they deserve to be loved and petted and adored and have cute and smile-inducing pictures of themselves taken. No exceptions.

snuggly pigs

Terp Thon: Dancing for the Greater Good

Last spring, I danced, laughed, cried, took pictures, sang to 90’s music, won a raffle, met the UMD soccer team, and realized how truly blessed I am. Last spring, I participated in Terp Thon, an event hosted by the University of Maryland where students pledge to remain standing (but mostly dancing) for 12 hours straight in order to raise money to benefit Children’s National Medical Center.

Last year, I signed up for this expecting to have a fun night dancing with my friends while taking some fun and colorful pictures.

This year, I’ve registered as a fully involved member on the Events committee who is dedicated to ensuring that the children and families Children’s National helps are further sustained by our fundraising efforts.

(For a full list of how revolutionary and life changing this event was for me, check out my post from last March.)

I guess over the summer I’ve forgotten how much I love helping others, and I haven’t really volunteered my time to help those in need. But, now that I’m registered for this year’s Terp Thon, I’ve recommitted myself to service and helping children put a smile on their face.

389781_10151579696395695_2051817362_n (1)I don’t think I could ever again be involved in something quite as meaningful and revolutionary as Terp Thon, and I am absolutely thrilled to continue my fundraising efforts and shake my tail feather on that dance floor one last time during my senior year of college.

That being said, *cough* you knew this was coming *cough*, if anyone would like to donate, my new and shiny donor page (with a rather lofty donation goal) is listed HERE. All I’m asking for is a dollar or two, just enough to make you realize that you’ve contributed to drastically improving someone’s life. Not a bad way to spend a Tuesday.

Last year we raised over $300,000, and I'm just asking for a donation of a dollar or two

Last year we raised over $300,000 for the most inspirational kids you’ve ever met

But even better than a donation, would be a pledge to help out someone in your local community. Donate your time and efforts to a cause that you really care about, and you’re bound to make a difference.

I know that it’s easy to say you’ll get around to it, or that it’s a nice thought and you’ll do it later, but I mean right now. I’m telling you to Google volunteer opportunities near you, and actually and immediately follow through with them. You might be surprised the impact that it has on your life.

Because I was hooked on volunteering as soon as I saw the smile on Trevor’s face.

A Delicious Addition to My Bucket List

recipe folderSomewhere in the shady recesses of my kitchen, sprinkled with cobwebs, browning with age but taut with neglect, all neat and pristine, without a drop of oil or a splash of vinegar, lays my recipe folder.

Just because I have failed, on many occasions, to follow through with the cooking, baking, sautéing, broiling, grilling, steaming, boiling, or mere mixing of ingredients to create such decedent delicacies, does not mean that I have given up on collecting recipes. In fact, it seems that the fewer meals I cook, the more recipes I store.

guac and chicken kabobsSo watch out Cheesy Cauliflower Rice, because I’m coming after you with all of the fury and fire of a woman who has free time on her hands. Sleep with one eye open Loaded Guacamole with Chicken Kababs, because I’m locked and loaded to make you up with a knife and then take you down with a fork. Tuna Melt, don’t for a second think I’ve forgotten about you. Oh, and Greek Shrimp Bruschetta and Pizza Pasta, you better sleep with one eye open.

Because I have a new addition to my Pail List.

Official Pail List addition:

Cook all of the recipes I’ve collected.

Goals for this addition:

  • I’m going to aim for preparing one dish each week (while it’s summer time, as a college dorm is not conducive to creating culinary works of art)
  • Most of the dishes are healthy, so I’d like to document my experience with a few of them on Happiness Through Health
  • I’d like to feel more confident and comfortable, and less awkward and frightened in the kitchen
  • Get one person from my circle of support to try each week’s mystery meal
  • Continue collecting inspiring recipes and embrace any food mess battle scars they may receive

cute apron

I’m excited to see how this Pail List addition will turn out, because it will be requiring constant attention to get completed on time. For now, I’m going to get psyched for my sudden enthusiasm with cooking by perusing some cute aprons online.

1 Bucket List, 2 Shoes, 5Ks

bwc realI had been signed up for the Baltimore Women’s Classic 5K for the past couple of months. Ever since I began working on my health and saying yes to life, I’ve been looking for ways to appreciate myself, the community around me, and everything that is capable of being achieved. And this morning, I found all of those things and much more when I finally completed the race.

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Two months ago I was running consistently, focusing on obtaining a quality education, eating healthy foods with conviction, stretching every morning, avoiding TV time, planning for my career-oriented future, and taking care of my personal appearance.

Preparing for this race has provided me with a deep and profound appreciation for myself and my body.
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Showing up to the Inner Harbor today I looked out upon the 3,211 other female participants and was overwhelmed by the support and positivity exuding from these lovely and lively ladies who were all prepared to reach their goals and prove their worth. Attending this race has strengthened my sense of community.

I have failed. I have struggled. I have thrown in the towel, given up, stayed down, and vowed to never care about trying again. But I have also risen to the occasion, succeeded, pushed myself, and reached beyond my grasp only to find my fingertips brushing the stars.

Associating myself with this race has shown me that anything is possible.

I ran a 34 minute race. I came in 1,410th. I was 108th in my age division. And none of that matters.DSCN0852

What matters is that I crossed a life goal off of my bucket list and showed myself exactly what wonders this life is capable of holding.